{Why Roger Bacon?--Easy!--In the nineteenth century he
was proclaimed the first experimental scientist of the modern era--- a
distinction to reckon with. His legend was rather overblown, but that should
not be our reason to cut him down beneath his actual size, and the fact that he
was a towering historical figure cannot be diminished by exaggerated claims of
superstardom.
In fact, he was indeed a bona
fide scientist. He was also a passionate critic of the special brand of
“cultural illiteracy” of his age, which consisted in linguistic deficiency of
the Biblical and Aristotelian scholars who all knew Latin, of course, but only
a tiny handful could understand the Greek of Plato and Aristotle and of the New
Testament, or the Hebrew and Aramaic of the Bible, or the Arabic of Avicenna
and Averroes, for that matter, which was inevitably leading to gross
mistranslations, misinterpretations, and other grotesque deficiencies of his
contemporary scholarship, all of which he was eager to expose, for which he had
proper credentials, being fluent in several languages.
He was equally appalled by the
scientific illiteracy of most churchmen and tried to encourage the inclusion of
science in educational curricula. In matters theological, he suggested paying
less attention to miniscule, unimportant details, which had been the
predominant bones of contention before and in his time, and more attention to a
serious study of the Bible, envisaging in this view the revolutionary
theological reorientation of the Reformation. Generally speaking, he was never
trying to set up science in opposition to religion, as some of his
“hagiographers” would claim, but explicitly promoted the need to incorporate
philosophy and science into the super-discipline of theology, which he never
intended to disparage, but always considered to be paramount.
…Why Roger Bacon?--Ask no
more.}
***
Proceeding from teacher to
student, from Albertus to Thomas would have been the most natural transition,
except that a foreign body has inserted itself into the normal course, by
virtue of formal chronology. There is a span of thirty-two years between those
two, and now a third party born after one, but before the other is calling for
an intermission in the Scholastic saga, so that it can be heard in procedural
order. I have called him a foreign body because, whereas there is a
continuity and similarity between the said Scholastics, this new subject of
ours shows a distinctly different frame of mind from any regular thinker’s, in
the emerging Thomistic tradition.
Doctor Mirabilis, such was
the nickname of the Englishman Roger Bacon, never to be confused with his
latter-day countryman Francis Bacon, whom we shall visit in a later entry.
Roger Bacon (1212-1292) was particularly famous for the reverential legend,
which grew around his name in the nineteenth century, not unlike the story of Doctor
Albertus Magnus and the Philosopher’s Stone, which credits him with
being an empirical genius, a modern-type scientist several centuries ahead of
his time, who ceaselessly struggled to promote scientific experimentation
against the forces of darkness, which vowed to stop scientific progress, in the
name of religion. There is a lot of truth in this legend, as Roger Bacon was,
indeed, a scientific and philosophical genius, keen on experimentation, and in
some of his experiments coming close to presaging Newton and other scientists
of modern history. The legend, however, does him a disservice by
overstating his wild unorthodoxy and anti-scholastic combativeness, as well as
understating the Church’s receptivity to scientific progress, which was
definitely much greater than the way in which it has been caricatured.
This is why a more balanced view
of Roger Bacon and his empiricist emphasis has been bound to emerge. Bacon’s
powerful positives must not be diminished by jumping into the opposite extreme
of calling him a standard thinker of his time. In many ways he was ahead, and,
very importantly, he was not a scholastic in the sense prevailing to describe
those times. But he was not an uncompromising rebel either. It is true that on
several occasions he was censured for his views, and even imprisoned, but never
for lengthy periods of time, and he was never harshly persecuted either. That
he managed not to cross the line of martyrdom is a testimony both to his own
prudence and also to the fact that the Church of that time was not as bigoted
as customarily portrayed and almost universally believed.
No comments:
Post a Comment