Pythagoras's Trousers: God, Physics, and the Gender War

by Margaret Wertheim

A spirited look at the relationship between physics and religion―and the implications for both sexes. Here is a fresh, astute social and cultural history of physics, from ancient Greece to our own time. From its inception, Margaret Wertheim shows, physics has been an overwhelmingly male-dominated activity; she argues that gender inequity in physics is a result of the religious origins of the enterprise.

Pythagoras' Trousers is a highly original history of one of science's most powerful disciplines. It is also a passionate argument for the need to involve both women and men in the process of shaping the technologies from the next generation of physicists.

Genres: Science, History, Nonfiction, Philosophy, Physics, Gender, Feminism

320 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1995

Reviews

[Manny · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm kind of annoyed with this book. Margaret Wertheim, a feminist science writer, is making some excellent points about the absolutely disgusting way that women have been treated in the world of physics. She argues that this could have something to do with the much-denied links between physics and religion, and puts together an interesting case. I can well believe there's some truth to her claim that physicists, often without realising it, feel deep down that they're interpreting the Word of God as revealed through the Book of Nature, and that this is something only men can do. As she says, it's easy to imagine that Newton saw things that way, and he's just the most obvious example. She names others. And it's not far-fetched to make this part of a historical process which has systematically excluded women from the mental sphere. These are the themes of the first two-thirds of the book, which I liked a lot.

Unfortunately, as we get closer to the present day, a serious problem emerges: the author doesn't actually seem to know that much about physics, and comes across as sketchy on the recent history of science. She did a degree in physics once, but it seems to me that she's uncertain about some pretty basic stuff. She complains about the large number of elementary particles: if she's aware that QCD sorted out the greater part of this problem in the 70s, she could certainly have made that clearer. She incorrectly says that the compactified six-dimensional structures needed by superstring theory are hyperspheres, when as any fule kno they are Calabi-Yau manifolds. She talks about the Big Bang, but never mentions that the person who originally suggested it as an explanation for Hubble's redshift measurements was Georges Lemaître, a Catholic priest who had to spend a large part of his life listening to people who called his idea religious propaganda.

When we reach the last chapter and she tells us that we shouldn't be spending vast amounts of money building high-energy colliders, which she characterises as masculine quasi-cathedrals whose covert purpose is more religious than scientific, she fails to impress. Maybe she's right, but she doesn't come across as knowing enough about the issues. She is good when she describes the appalling treatment that Emmy Noether suffered, but when she gets to electroweak unification she doesn't mention that this breakthough has a direct link back to Noether's Theorem. Yes, maybe the LHC is the end-product of the mystical cult founded by Pythagoras. But you can also think of it as the logical continuation of Noether's ideas about symmetry. She tells us to look more at female thinking in science, but waves her hands instead of discussing this extremely important example of real female thinking that has had a real effect on modern thought.

Dammit, Margaret Wertheim! I'm on your side. I just wish you'd loaded up with some more high-calibre weaponry before going off to fight this particular battle.

[Kara Babcock · Rating 4 out of 5]

I want to start this review by inviting you to read my review of A Short History of Nearly Everything, so you can understand my feelings about science going into this book.

If that’s tl;dr, then allow me to reiterate the main thrust of the review: science is fucking awesome. Got it?

Margaret Wertheim would agree with me, but in Pythagoras’ Trousers she explores how the general absence of women from mainstream scientific endeavours has affected the development of the sciences—specifically, physics—in the West. In particular, Wertheim argues that the dominance of men in physics resulted in the field becoming like a “priesthood”, and that this has created a feedback loop in which physics as an institution continues to exclude women despite advances in gender equity elsewhere in society.

This book pushes all the right buttons for me. I’m interested in gender issues, and as an educator, I’m specifically concerned about gender gaps in math (my speciality) and the sciences. On a broader level, I’m interested in the philosophy of science and examining critically the way we currently do science versus how we might do science better. In this sense, Pythagoras’ Trousers is the latest milestone in an ongoing personal journey of mine as my attitude towards science develops and changes over time. Like most children, my first ideas about science were very monolithic and certain. Thanks in part to my privileged position as a white male, this opinion hasn’t changed much until recently—and that’s exactly Wertheim’s point. Even with the best of intentions, it’s difficult to reflect critically on a discipline biased in favour of people like oneself.

We are fed this line that science is something objective, with physics being the most objective science of them all. The xkcd comic “Purity” reinforces this in a way that I, as a mathematician, appreciate:



From this perspective, science is supposed to be free of political or social agendas. This is supposed to be the great strength of science. And a lot of work goes into eliminating perceived bias from scientific work. Unfortunately, this perception of science is a lie. One need only look at all the times throughout history when “science!” has been the authority used to denigrate and oppress people based on the colour of their skin, the relative size of their skulls, etc. Science is a human endeavour, and therefore like any human endeavour, it is inherently political and biased.

As a basic concept, this notion is easy to understand and wasn’t difficult for me to accept. Yet I remained wary. When I read Feminism: Issues and Arguments , one chapter concerned philosopher of science Sandra Harding’s arguments regarding our need for a new subjectivity in science, a science as a social construct. I rejected that type of argument—I don’t know if it’s because of how it was framed (the book is back in Canada and I am not, at the moment) or if I simply wasn’t ready to acknowledge that this is really what science needs to be.

So in this sense, Wertheim’s detailled, historically-focused analysis of the exclusion of women from physics has provided a better argument to persuade me about subjectivity in science. It’s essentially given me the framework to let me say, “Ah, yeah, I’ve known this for a while—but now I understand why.”

Beginning with the eponymous Pythagoras (who, actually, wore robes and not trousers, it turns out), Wertheim establishes how, throughout history, the male powers-that-be in physics have established cults of personality and faith within their domains of knowledge. I particularly enjoyed how she deconstructs some of the myths behind well-known, oft-invoked examples of scientists who rebel against society—the Galileos and Brunos of history. Of the latter, she says:

The irony is that today Giordano Bruno is often portrayed by scientists as a martyr—a man who paid with his life for supporting heliocentric cosmology. However, as historian Francis Yates has shown, it was not his views about science that were the problem. The “genuine” physicists of his own time were as much opposed to his ideas as the clerics themselves.

This resonated with me because the martyr narrative is exactly how Bruno is portrayed in the Neil de Grasse Tyson remake of Cosmos. Bruno was a light shining in the darkness perpetuated by the Church, when actually he was a man with an interesting idea that didn’t have much in the way of evidence behind it at the time.

Don’t get me wrong, watching Cosmos has been a pleasure. I wasn’t born when Carl Sagan hosted the first version of the series, so I’m pleased that someone so eminent as de Grasse Tyson has resurrected the format to introduce a whole new generation to the wonders of science and the imagination. Cosmos joins Bill Nye the Science Guy and The Magic School Bus on my list of shows that help kids realize that they can ask questions about the world around them and, more importantly, they might even be able to answer them.

But if we want to be honest with ourselves, it behoves us to critically examine the narratives we tell about science. I love the interesting anecdotes about figures in the history of science—but at the same time, I don’t like how it perptuates the idea that science has been driven by “great men” (and women), geniuses who are somehow singular in their abilities. It’s a myth/hero narrative the seems counterproductive if our goal is to motivate the ordinary, average child to go into the sciences. Children figure out pretty early on whether they are geniuses or not.

Anyway, I still love the way in which Cosmos educates about science in a way that invokes the wonder of discovery. And, to be fair, de Grasse Tyson does a good job of avoiding language that might be construed as too religious. This is the other bone that Wertheim has to pick, and it’s one that has niggled at me for a while prior to reading the book. When scientists or the media invoke God—“the face of God”, “the mind of God”, the “language of God”, “the God particle”—I cringe. In particular, it bothers me quite a bit when people start seizing upon the counterintuitive discoveries in quantum mechanics and assign New Agey interpretations to them. It’s not good to conflate science and religion. I agree with Wertheim when she argues that the two are not diametric opposites, but they should also be separate.

So it’s a dirty little bit of laundry that Wertheim airs when she argues that, throughout history, many of our celebrated scientists actually had agendas of faith. This shouldn’t come as a surprise—humans are complex, conflicted creatures, and being an atheist is not a requirement for doing science. And even scientists who claim no religion can often substitute the pursuit of science itself as a kind of faith. This is a straw-man argument often invoked by opponents of science that, alas, has a grain of truth (where they go wrong is in a supposition that all of science is based on faith, when in fact the faith portion is involved in the conjecture and discovery part of the process). It’s also not something to be ashamed of—provided it doesn’t colour a scientist’s opinion of the field to the point of rejecting other ideas without reason.

Wertheim argues that the absence of women throughout the development of physics has led to a proliferation of this physics-as-priesthood, discovery-as-religion type of thinking. It’s an imbalance caused by too much of a certain type of thinking. We need a diversity of views, a diversity of ideas, to move forward. So towards the end of the book, she argues that if we can bring more women into the conversation, then perhaps we could refocus the emphasis in research in directions more beneficial for society. She questions the worth of spending billions of dollars searching for the Higgs particle and pursuing other “big questions” like the Theory of Everything—another substitute for God.

I’m ambivalent about this part of the book. On one hand, I agree that the search for the Theory of Everything feels anticlimactic. On the other hand, I think that our pursuit of these big questions is valuable because it’s part of the human quest for knowledge. Moreover, it’s difficult to predict what avenues of exploration led to the most useful results. Perhaps our experiments in particle accelerators will lead to a better understanding of mass and gravity in such a way that allows us to invent anti-gravitation devices. Who knows?

Whatever the case, though, I can see Wertheim’s point in that too many of the same type of people can bias the pursuit of any goal, science or otherwise. Her historical overview of science as a men-only club is informative and fascinating. The style is accessible, backed up by plenty of reference to other writers in the field. Overall, Pythagoras’ Trousers is another useful installment in my reading about science, philosophy, history, and gender. If you like these topics, then you really need to pick up a copy.

[Trevor · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is hot. Read it.

She says some really, really interesting things here about how physicists see themselves are reading the mind of god and are sort of the priesthood of science. She also gives high energy physicists a kicking over wanting to spend billions of dollars getting a unified field theory. Okay, I think she is wrong and billions of dollars is actually cheap for finding out these things - but I do think she has a point worth considering (and rejecting, obviously) in that there are one or two people in the world starving and perhaps those billions would be better spent on that.

Yeah, yeah, yeah - but it won't, will it? And I think three in five scientist on the planet make weapons and billions are spent on making weapons that are then sold to poor countries to help them not feed their people. So, spending money on pure research seems positively benign in comparison.

But Margaret is smart and sexy and a damn good read.

[Margaret Wertheim · Rating 5 out of 5]

I wrote this book as a way to introduce physics as a culturally embedded activity, one that doesn't spring out of the blue but rather is deeply embedded in a matrix of philosophy and theology going back 2000 years. I didn't set out to write about the history of physics and religion, but that story gradually emerged during 4 years of research as a central issue in a story going back to the origins of physics with Pythagoras. The fact that there are so many physicists today writing about "the mind God" isn't a coincidence – it's been a thread in the development of physics since the start and can be seen as the latest iteration of the age-old quest for the "music of the spheres." The nexus of physics and religion has also served throughout its history as a powerful barrier to women.

[Kogiopsis · Rating 2 out of 5]

Physics is not my scientific field of choice. I’ve struggled with it since middle school, for a variety of reasons. Still, it’s an important field and one which drives much of our modern society – and also one in which women have comparatively little participation. Pythagoras’s Trousers was loaned to me by my grandmother, who read it for her book group, and thought I might find it interesting, and I did… though not precisely as the text it purports to be. Wertheim has produced a sound history of physics, and of sexism and religiosity within the science, but I left the book feeling like she hadn’t really presented a case for a causal relationship between those qualities.

(Full review on Kogi Reviews.)

[Melissa · Rating 5 out of 5]

It's a shame this book is out of print and hard to source. It gives a fresh perspective on the history of physics.
It's facinating how our culture shapes and influences the way we see the world and interpret scientific facts. Pythagoras' Trousers does a great job of arguing that the Christian religion has shaped physics both as a science and as an instiutuion.
While the history of women's contribution was interesting (and, as a woman, frustrating), this part of the book wasn't it's strength. As other reviewers have pointed out, the gender arguement was repetitive. But then again, maybe that's a reflection of the reality of women in science: repeatedly coming up against the barriers of exclusion by men.
All in all, an easy bit insightful book to read, and an interesting thesis regarding influence if religion on the history of physics.

[Lakmus · Rating 4 out of 5]

Although the focus of the argument is on physics and the gender disparity there, the argument very clearly generalises to science and diversity more broadly. The general point is that science is never entirely objective in the sense that some lines of research have to be prioritised over others, and the findings then are interpreted to find meaning, both specific to the science itself and about what it says about the world in general. Having old white men do science robs us of both balance and discoveries. (For gender specifically, it looks like since the book's publication the numbers have been slowly rising, but given that it's been 25 years, the rate seems embarrassingly slow: https://www.aip.org/statistics/report...)

Most of the book is dedicated to the other half of the equation – the connection between physics and religion throughout history. The author highlights the continued dialogue and connections between Western science and Christianity, and their common attempts to understand the heavens.

An interesting line of argumentation is that as physics and science more broadly became more successful, religion lost ground because it initially made the mistake of drawing on scientific evidence to back itself up, even if its issues are somewhat perpendicular to the material construction of the world. As a scientific cosmology replaced the religious one, physics managed to also steal some of its spiritual powers, and a certain brand of physicist gaining almost a holy halo around themselves.

The author (correctly, I think) asks whether we should be dumping billions of dollars into particle accelerators to develop a theory that has essentially no value except the spiritual. I can imagine the common objection to this would be to say that we might invent nice technical nick-knacks along the way like we did with microwaves and somesuch, but I would object that it seems more probable that we will get nice things if we set out to invent the nice things with all the billions of dollars we aren't spending on slamming particles together. If Theory Of Everything is essentially a spiritual quest, it can proselytize like every other sect and religion and crowdfund, and the public money can go towards uhhh the public good??

[John · Rating 5 out of 5]

A very interesting, readable, and novel history of physics and its interactions with faith. Not too detailed as to get tedious, but not too broad as to leave the reader without any personal connection to the individuals involved.
Wertheim re-introduces the reader to the history of modern physics, noting especially the conscious and unconscious religiosity of science and the very conscious barring of women from the scientific realm. The truly remarkable fact that she reveals, however, is the continued lack of women from the realm of modern physics--as opposed to the life, biological, and chemical sciences. She compares modern physics and the search for the Theory of Everything to the all-male priesthood in the Catholic Church. Both of which, she notes, will be slow to change.

A great and very interesting read for anyone interesting in the interaction between faith and science, or really all educated people.

[Morgan Lewis]

My science brain needs some work, but this book is written so clearly that it distills a vast history of scientific and philosophic thought and simplifies it for anyone to understand. Learning about the intersections of religion, philosophy, science, and feminism was really interesting to me. It was a little frustrating at the end because not much progress has been made for women in the sciences—especially in physics—but the tone is hopeful and positive, and Wertheim brings to light many of the women that made significant contributions but who were lost or repressed over time.

[E. · Rating 3 out of 5]

Die (Geschichte der) Beziehung zwischen Naturwissenschaft/Physik und Religion, die oft als komplett antagonistisch dargestellt wird, ist hier durchaus ausführlich und verständlich beschrieben. Leider kommen viele der genannten Frauen in der Wissenschaft immer noch zu kurz. Zum Teil wird Männern, die Bildung von Frauen unterstützt haben, mehr Platz gegeben.
Außerdem wird die Physik in den späteren Kapiteln laut ein paar anderen Rezensionen nicht immer korrekt erklärt.

[Anna · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ahhh! So good! An awesome overview of the history of physics, simultaneously explaining the connection between the science and its priest-like religiosity, as well as its continued exclusion of women. Well researched and executed. Such a delight.

[Terry Tonon · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you like to think, you'll like this book--that simple.

[Alex Lee · Rating 4 out of 5]

Interesting book from the framework of feminism regarding science and religion. Wertheim connects science with religion and notes the gender disparity as a historic trend. The primary argument however relies on an auxiliary argument which I think she does successfully make (although she could cite others to help her make it, but does not).

That auxiliary argument is also interesting. Wertheim rejects science's mythology of objectivity. Without addressing this claim (with their claim that "girls are bad at math") Wertheim has no leg to stand on in order to make her argument for gender disparity in science.

As a historic text, Wertheim does a fairly good job, hitting all the major developments that are well known AND addressing major developments that are not well known (that women have done). This unacknowledged aspect in science works well to illustrate the problem involved with gender discrimination.

[David Giesige · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book essentially rewrites history by shining a light on the oft-overlooked minutia that shaped some of the major events in our scientific past. By presenting mathematics as the religion it once was and evaluating it through a feminist lens, Wertheim proves that our equations are not as simple as they might appear on the surface. That is essentially what this book is - a proof. It is an extended examination and explanation of why we want to make sense of the world, how we go about it, and who has captained those explorations. The stories are told with humor and zeal, transforming recounting of formula formation into quotable, enjoyable anecdotes. An accessible and powerful work, I would recommend it to anyone who loves to challenge perspectives and "common knowledge."

[Searchingthemeaningoflife Greece]

[...]Ο Αϊνστάιν με τη θεωρία του, είχε κατορθώσει αυτό που τόσους αιώνες πριν είχε ονειρευτεί ο Πυθαγόρας: είχε βρει μια σειρά μαθηματικών σχεδόν που απέδιδαν την ίδια τη μορφή των ουρανών.[...]

[...]το πως βλέπουν τον ουρανό οι άνθρωποι αντανακλά το πως βλέπουν τον εαυτό τους.[...]

[...]Η μεγάλη εποχή της ελληνικής μαθηματικής επιστήμης που άρχισε με τη γέννηση ενός άντρα, τελείωσε με το θάνατο μιας γυναίκας.(Υπατία)[...]

[Dr Susan · Rating 5 out of 5]

In the van of my reading on how women fare in their scientific endeavours. Wertheim gives us a goodread and exposes most ofthe problems women havehad in getting intoscience and making a career- still impossible for so many millions today usually for the age-old reasons of running up against parental, state or religious disapproval-stick at it girls! Margaret will give you great tips inthis history of how women got into physics.

[Joseph Patterson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Though dated, the discussion of barriers to female entry into physics is still sadly relevant. Margaret Wertheim patiently weaves an insightful story, bringing light to the historical connections between physics and religion. It seems physicists started their own fire, either by intention or through ignorance. Leave it to politics to deliver the King Midas touch.

[Sara Rocutto]

L'avevo già letto anni fa, è veramente un'opera interessante, tratta del rapporto tra scienza e religione e del pessimo affare che ci hanno fatto le donne in 2500 anni!!! consigliato a tutt*!!

[Karen · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sporadic -

[Karina · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sporadically interesting.

[Maria-Myrsini Derboki · Rating 5 out of 5]

A great book! Very well written and an excellent combination of historical and social knowledge, physics and religion!

[Αντώνης Χαρατσής · Rating 1 out of 5]

Very academic and dry language. Too many historical facts. Impossible to read.

[Júlia Heredia · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really easy to read. First chapters are the most interesting. Even though the book is almost 30 years old, it brings an interesting perspective over the social that involves the STEM world.

[Truc Anh · Rating 5 out of 5]

Putting this on my revisit shelf. Captivating arguments about the relationship between religion, physics, and barriers to physics for women.

[Sophiealka · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Pythagoras' Trousers" explores physics' and maths' historical conflation with priestly and theological pursuits (busting up the science vs religion myth) and also shows how it is the legacy of patriarchal structures borrowed from religious culture that is the source of gender inequality within the disciplines.

As an active science journalist, historian, and advocate of women in the sciences, it is a shame that Margaret Wertheim eschews touching on the history of the sciences outside of a Western lens. This book could have been even better if it examined how the power dynamics in modern physics and maths are also a legacy of eurocentrism and European imperialism as well as the dominance of the Church and aristocracy.

Nevertheless Wertheim shatters some longstanding myths about famous scientific figures such as Galileo and Newton, and also shines a light on the stories of some very sadly forgotten female scientists such as Lise Meitner, Maria Agnesi, Laura Bassi, Maria Winkelmann, and Christine of Pisan.

Although written in the 90s, this history of the disciplines of physics and mathematics in the West remains a pertinent and fascinating account of how gender and religion have intersected with the sciences.

[Blaire · Rating 2 out of 5]

I'm not sure the tripartite focus of this book was well-advised. Although the three subjects are related, I don't think the author was equally successful with each. I enjoyed the the history of physics most because I found it very informative and well-researched. I wish she had confined herself to that one subject. As it was, she glossed over a lot of history in the interests of keeping the length of the book relatively short. I found her writing both on the subject of religion and on women's lack of participation in physics historically to be repetitious and superficial. She made her few points again...and again...and again. Not that uncommon with authors who have an axe to grind, but tiresome nonetheless. Her best writing about women is in the chapter toward the end that is devoted to that subject.

[Hans · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book tells a fascinating story on the history of physics as told through the lens of feminism and religion. It asks, why are there so few women physicists? Could this be due to the priestly endeavors of modern physicists and the quest for a theory of everything (TOE) which, like the search for god, is a journey of faith, and not necessarily of science. I would recommend this for anyone with an interest in the history of science/physicist. Along the way you'll read of women scientists who have tried to gain a foothold in science but were denied by a male-quasi-religious hierarchy.

[Lynda · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is an interesting look at the history of science. Wertheim has a very clear agenda (how/why science was closed to women for so long) and at times I felt a bit bludgeoned by her agenda. It is, nevertheless, a worthy and interesting read.

[Donna · Rating 2 out of 5]

About one of the chapters actually explores women in physics, so not much of a enlightenment, here. Unfortunately, reads like a thesis from a grad student rather than being inspired by a fascinating history and the possibilities for future direction of science.

[Sarah · Rating 4 out of 5]

Aside from a terrific title, this book is turning out to have a fascinating thesis too: relating the frequently perceived religiosity of physics with the lack of women in the field. We'll see if she can pull it off.