This is a trilogy of historical fiction about, among many other things, the invention of the modern monetary system and the Scientific Revolution. Yes, it’s a heavy lift, as it’s nearly three thousand pages long, but it’s an incredible read. And if you want to get a sense of the sheer weirdness of the early days of science—both the people involved in it, as well as the ideas that they were playing with—these books are absolutely fantastic.

Webster’s book is one of the best assessments of psychoanalysis.

Freud persistently claimed that psychoanalysis was a serious science. It met with hostility because it had insulted the world: by emphasizing the influence of the Unconscious on our behaviour and the role of sexuality in human life. Naturally, Freud’s claims came under scrutiny.

Webster criticizes psychoanalysis as "one of the most subtle attempts to use reason in a magical manner." Psychoanalysis is not explanatory and protects itself against refutations. Webster traces the history of the psychoanalytic movement.

The book is excellent because of Webster’s grasp of primary and secondary literature, his lucid prose, and his understanding of Freud’s influence. My book also comes to the conclusion that psychoanalysis is not some kind of physics of the psyche.    

Shapin makes the audacious claim that there never really was a scientific revolution in Early Modern Europe, despite the fact that “the scientific revolution” has been a central organizing idea in the history of science and the history of Western culture more generally.

His provocative book provides a useful and engaging assessment of the utility of the concept of “the scientific revolution” for making sense of developments in the history of science.  He challenges us to think about the place of radical changes in the history of science, and whether the claims scientists make about such changes are merely rhetorical constructions.

Despite Shapin’s arguments, I am inclined to think something very significant happened in the sciences in the 16th and 17th Centuries, something that deserves to be called “revolutionary”. But Shapin’s book will certainly make readers reflect on what they mean by scientific revolution.

I appreciate this book because it provides an excellent historical overview of an important aspect of science, i.e., the occurrence of scientific revolutions from the 17th to the 20th century, and it does not include psychoanalysis.

Cohen’s book proposes an interesting "theory" of scientific revolutions which inspired me to develop a philosophical model of scientific revolutions, which I dubbed the "chain-of-reasoning" model.

Cohen was a renowned historian of science. His book is very well written and does not require technical knowledge of particular theories. It is very long but it can be studied selectively. 

Freud has had a massive influence on Western culture: he created the "psychological human." People interpret slips of the tongue, strange dreams, or neurotic behaviour almost automatically in Freudian terms. Freud never wrote a textbook on psychoanalysis.

In these lectures, which were held at the University of Vienna during World War I, he presented the full range of his theories and observations. It covers Freudian slips, dreams, neuroses, and sexuality. (The unfinished Outline of Psychoanalysis, 1938, includes the Id, Ego, and Superego.)

Freud is a very persuasive and stylish writer who presents his theory as if it were a natural science, comparable to physics. He claims that his contemporaries were hostile to psychoanalysis because of its explosive revelations about human nature. He explains why his theory allegedly completed the Copernican revolution. Freud describes his findings and sets them in a cultural context.

This book is a delightful read, full of interesting evolutionary details and a rigorous defence of Darwinism.

Steve Jones was a professor of genetics at UCL, London. His book is an updated version of Darwin’s The Origin of Species, faithfully following Darwin’s chapter plan. However, it adds to the discussion what is lacking in Darwin’s book, namely genetics. For instance, it discusses AIDS as an example of descent with modification and the evolution of whales and wolves.

There is one exception to the faithful retracing of Darwin’s topics. After Chapter XIII on Mutual Affinities, Jones inserts an Interlude in which he shows that Darwin’s argument is applicable to humans. He argues that evolution is still ongoing but at a slower pace.

While this book is not about science, it gives the social context for how ancient scientific and anti-scientific ideas developed in slave-owning societies and before. It is the best description of the development of human society to the end of the ancient period that I’ve ever read.

Unfortunately, some of the anti-science ideas of ancient slave-owners, discredited in the scientific revolution, are still with us today, and Child explains how they came to be.

Edward Grant’s book begins, as mine does, with the medieval rediscovery of Aristotle’s works, but he focuses more intensively than I do on the impact of the new learning on scientific education and discovery. Writing clearly and gracefully, Grant demonstrates that a real scientific revolution began three hundred years before the “Scientific Revolution” of the sixteenth century. Along the way, he has some fascinating things to say about the curriculum of medieval universities and life among the first generation of European scientists. A valuable and enjoyable read.    

If you know anyone who still holds on to the belief that science can operate in a political vacuum, please thrust this book upon them! In 1673, a brave philosopher called Francois Poullain de la Barre publicly observed that he saw no reason why women could not be treated as the equals of men in all spheres of influence, including science. The Mind has no Sex, he declared! In this wonderfully readable book on the history of women in science, Londa Schiebinger shows us just how that belief played out. Track the jaw-dropping arrogance of science’s male gatekeepers as they systematically used every trick in their power to exclude women, weaponising their biology against them (Blame the Brain!), demeaning and downgrading their annoyingly evident talents. This book will make you angry – and so it should!