Home » class issues » the mismeasure of man [sic]

the mismeasure of man [sic]


Stephen J. Gould is one of the finest writers on science I have read. He writes clearly and thoroughly about both the technical details of science and its larger philosophical issues. When his analysis of the history of attempts to measure human intelligence, The Mismeasure of Man, was published (1981), it was an almost instant classic. In it he exposes the bias inherent in the studies of intelligence and ranking, focusing primarily on the logical and statistical flaws, though he also spends time on the cultural and political contexts in which such errors flourished and on the bias—cultural and linguistic—in the tests themselves. Almost without exception, he writes with a humility about science and its possibilities, while still affirming the need to try, that I find refreshing and helpful in a world that is too often filled with disciplinary arrogance.

Technically, this book is about biological determinism. Although there are many versions of biological determinism, the idea is essentially that one’s genes and the biology with which you are born determine your potential. Another way to think about this is that biological determinism is primarily about limits for a person’s growth: according to this argument, a baby’s physical being creates a maximum for how smart he/she can ever be, how talented she/he can ever be, and to what socio-economic class he/she can ever rise. I hear the ghosts of biological determinism when students say things like “I’ve reached my math limit” or “I’ve gone as far as I can in math.” Indeed, there is a fairly common belief that people either have math ability or they don’t and there’s no changing it no matter what you do, but I have seen no research to back up that idea. And this kind of idea is not limited to math ability; it’s often applied to all kinds of mental and other abilities.

Gould “seeks to demonstrate both the scientific weaknesses and political contexts of determinist arguments.” He places deterministic thought within the Platonic tradition in which it belongs, but his message is not that determinists were evil or even always wrong, but that science is a “social phenomenon, a gutsy human” act of creativity, filled with “hunch, vision, and intuition.” For Gould and for me, science is an imaginative process of understanding and explaining the world, a process in which we try to, and sometimes succeed, in come closer to the truth, but that—because we are human and because this creative process is cultural bound and culturally influenced—does not always bring us closer to the truth. Gould criticizes “the myth that science is itself an objective enterprise, done properly only when scientists can shuck the constraints of their culture and view the world as it really is.”

One of the large themes in the book is the error of reification: the conversion of an idea into a concrete object. A good example of this in our every day life is the idea of love. Most of us have ideas about what love is and how it operates in the world, but I don’t think anyone would suggest that love is a concrete object that can be measured or assessed. Rather, it is an idea we use to describe certain feelings and events and commitments. The biological determinists Gould describes try to reify intelligence by turning it into a unitary object that can be measured through tests of what we have learned to call IQ. That intelligence is more complex and interesting than that seems obvious and good to me, but the attempts to measure human intelligence are numerous and continue today.

More than that, once we have a number attached to intelligence, we can rank people and groups of people, and that is precisely what was done. Cranial capacity, IQ scores, and other supposed measures of intelligence were used to rank people—and with unsurprising results, considering who was doing most of the measuring: middle-class, white men came out on top and other gender, racial, and class groups fared less well.

If you read the book, you’ll find the details of many of the historical attempts to measure and rank intelligence, starting in the 19th century and up to the 1970s, along with a broad view of the scientific and political contexts of those attempts. It is a fascinating and cautionary tale—and one with a positive message, at least in my mind: humans and our endeavors, including science, are complex and full of potential; that we cannot accurately measure that potential means that our limit is not known.



  1. chen019 says:

    Unfortunately, ‘The Mismeasure of Man’ is more a work of propaganda than science. It is a popular book because it tells people what they want to hear, but it got seriously panned in specialist academic journals. Gould misrepresents the position of those he criticises and omits studies that contradict his argument.

    I’d recommend Nevan Sesardic’s article here, pages 593-596 particularly document how Gould’s allegations of bias against Morton are baseless.

    Philosophy of Science that Ignores Science: Race, IQ and Heritability, Philosophy of Science 67 (2000), pp.580-602.


  2. chen019 says:

    ***with unsurprising results, considering who was doing most of the measuring: middle-class, white men came out on top..

    other gender, racial, and class groups fared less well.***

    Actually, Ashkenazi Jews have consistently averaged above other groups. The Nazis banned psychometric testing for this reason.

    Another hiccup for this idea of a white middle class bias is that East Asians tend to perform slightly above average on them. In fact, a National Academy of Science panel and a Taskforce following the Bell Curve, both concluded that tests have equal predictive value across groups.

    Also, there are a number of neurobiological correlates that neuroscientists are identifying. These are set out in this recent paper.

    Nature Reviews Neuroscience 11, 201-211 (March 2010) Deary et al


  3. halshop says:


    I think you’re missing Gould’s point, which is (in my opinion) that “objective” science is a misnomer and that knowledge is constructed, not discovered. This is a philosophical and epistemological position and his arguments attempt to support that. If he made specific errors in parts of this argument, that would only prove his point–though ironically. And, naturally, many scientists (and others) find such a conclusion disturbing, objecting in the strongest terms. I support that discussion, but it doesn’t negate the power of Gould’s overall criticism of science as it is sometimes perceived and represented.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: