Measure for Measure: Delambre, Méchain, and the Meter – The Things that Endure (Part 1 of 2)

Dr. David M. Burns once advised his colleagues to “Aim for success, not perfection. Never give up your right to be wrong, because then you will lose the ability to learn new things and move forward with your life.” This attitude towards success was not always so widespread throughout the scientific community. There was a time in science’s past when any error was unacceptable, when the idea of a bell-curve was a distant blip on the horizon, and outliers was a code word for ‘mistake’.

Science seeks to understand the world we live in by measuring and quantifying it. But how do you decide what is a good measure and what isn't? (Photo by  Jamiesrabbits via Flickr)
Science seeks to understand the world we live in by measuring and quantifying it. But how do you decide what is a good measure and what isn’t? (Photo by Jamiesrabbits via Flickr)

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines success as a “favorable or desired outcome; also: the attainment of wealth, favor, or eminence”. With a definition that broad, any act may well be categorized as a success. However, if history has taught the world anything it is that such issues are rarely black and white. For instance, there is the story of the metric system and the expedition undertaken by 18th centuryastronomersJean Baptiste Joseph Delambre and Pierre Méchain to measure the length of the meridian between Dunkirk and Barcelona to discover the meter’s appropriate measurement, whatever was 1 / 10,000,000 of the distance from the North Pole to the equator. These events make up part of a much debated piece of history. While the expedition was eventually completed and the metric system firmly established, questions still linger about its ultimate success. Given the fact that the metric system was in fact rejected by the French government at the time of its inception, is it still a success? The expedition was continually delayed and beleaguered, taking many long years to complete – does its success rest on its timeliness? Or does the fact that one of the expedition heads, Pierre Méchain, falsified his results to cover up an error he had found in his measurements immediately dethrone the expedition from its successful status?

Pierre Mechain, as painted by Hurle in 1882
Pierre Mechain, as painted by Hurle in 1882

It is interesting to note that the Merriam-Webster Dictionary provides as broad of a definition of failure as it does of success: “Failure: The omission of occurrence or performance; specifically : a failing to perform a duty or expected action”. If we are working with this definition, than certainly failures did occur on the expedition. However the question begged is whether the failures of the moment are sufficient to wipe away the long-term success of a larger undertaking. The answer, it seems, would lie within the phrase “long-term”; for that is how success is truly measured – by the things that last, not the things that pass. Surely, under this kinder definition of success, a definition that allows for failure, the meridian expedition of Delambre and Méchain and the metric system derived from their labor was an immeasurable success, if only for the long-term effects it had on society as a whole.

Jean Baptiste Joseph Delambre
Jean Baptiste Joseph Delambre

The metric system expedition was hailed as a success from the first if only because it was lasting proof of what men could achieve, even in the most turbulent of times. When Delambre and Méchain set out to measure the world, their own homeland teetered on the brink of disaster. The French Revolution broke out shortly after their departure from Paris, and the country was in a continual uproar of one kind or another during the majority of their expedition. The obstacles they faced were many, from suspicious peasantry to foreign kings. At times it seemed that the expedition was doomed, its goal to create a universal standard of weights and measures sheer folly. But the savants pressed on, never relenting until their data had been collected and the meter declared by the Academy of Science in France. It was said of them that “Their exactitude in the face of social chaos exemplified what was noble and salvageable from the first great Revolution” (Adler, 328). In a time when the world seemed fractured and falling apart, the two astronomers had created “…a meter based on the size of the earth [that] made every landowner a ‘co-owner of the World’” (Adler, 253). Their fortitude served as an example to scientific minds everywhere, their expedition seen at once as both magnificent and unrepeatable. “In this sense,” as the historian Ken Adler puts it, “the meridian expedition succeeded as a matter of politics, even if it had failed as a matter of science” (Adler, 328).

Colbert Presenting the Members of the Royal Academy of Sciences to Louis XIV by Henry Testelin
Colbert Presenting the Members of the Royal Academy of Sciences to Louis XIV by Henry Testelin

In modern-day terms, the metric system can hardly be considered anything but a success. It is used as the standard form of weights and measurements in nearly every country in the world, the United States being the only exception of note. In fact, “By the middle of the twentieth century, the vast majority of the world’s nations – with the major exceptions of the British Commonwealth and the United States – had joined the metric system” (Adler 339). Since the goal of the original metric expedition was to create a set of standards and measures based on the earth so that everyone could utilize it, it seems that their success has been proven beyond a shadow of a doubt. However, there are some who dispute this point, arguing that because the metric system was in fact, rejected by the French themselves and not adopted until much later in their history the metric system was, in fact, a failure. “The French were not only the first nation to invent the metric system; they were also the first to reject it” (Adler, 261). Even Napoleon, who was outwardly a great supporter of the expedition when it was being carried out, found the new system too alien and complicated for everyday use. “As for Napoleon, he refused to learn the metric system…He said he could not think in the new units” (Adler, 261).

Woodcut dated 1800 illustrating the new decimal units which became the legal norm in France on 4 November 1800, five years after the the metrical system was first introduced.
Woodcut dated 1800 illustrating the new units which became the legal norm in France on 4 November 1800, five years after the the metrical system was first introduced.

On the other hand though, the metric system has become, with time and education of the public, the most widespread system of measurements in the world. If one operates under the belief that success can only be seen in those things that endure, than how the original metric system was received is not relevant; only the long-term effects we can examine today remain important. Take, for example, the case of the euro. “[Delambre’s and Méchain’s] goal was to make productivity the visible measure of economic progress…In many ways, their vision has triumphed. The euro, the common currency of much of Europe as of 2002, is a direct heir of the metric system” (Adler, 350). Similarly, historians today are able to “…trace the impact of [this] work in the globalization of economic exchange, and in the way ordinary people have come to understand their own best interest” (Adler, 9). Although the metric system met with considerable resistance at its inception, it is clear that it has become a world-wide success in its application despite that.

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Gone By

Every day I wake and
Around me squats a city of steel and concrete.
Roaring trucks trundle past my window,
Their exhaust leaving trails in the still morning air, and the
Howling wind breaking against half-finished buildings keeps me from sleeping.

Deep breath in, I close my eyes; imagining the
Arbors of my youth, falling asleep beneath the swaying branches of trees,
Yawning and creaking in the wind, those ancient sentinels of nature.

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Inspiration – Ben-Hur and the Power of Faith

The original film poster of the 1959 biblical epic Ben-Hur
The original film poster of the 1959 biblical epic Ben-Hur

To say that I was raised by films would not be a wholly inaccurate statement. Many holidays or celebrations have watching one or more movies on the day as a vital component. At Christmas my family always watches Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer, Santa Claus is Coming to Town, and we watch The Muppet Christmas Carol on Christmas Eve night – and only on Christmas Eve night. Easter was no different and we would watch one of several religious-themed films on the day, depending on how old my sister and I were and how advanced our ability to understand them was. One film that we watched almost every year, and that has become one of my personal favorite cinematic experiences, is the movie Ben-Hur.

One of the famous scenes from the film, the chariot race was the culmination of Judah and Messala's vendetta
One of the famous scenes from the film, the chariot race was the culmination of Judah and Messala’s vendetta

Based on the novel by the same name, Ben-Hur was released in 1959 and stars Charlton Heston, Stephen Boyd, Haya Harareet, and many other famous actors of the day. The film, a biblical epic in the best tradition of the form, tells the story of three men: Judah Ben-Hur, a fairly wealthy and prosperous Jewish prince living in Judea, Messala, a Roman soldier and longtime friend of Ben-Hur and his family, and Jesus of Nazareth, a man who really needs no introduction. The film focuses on the conflict between Judah and Messala, friends turned into the most bitter of enemies when Messala, upon his return from Rome, throws Judah’s mother and sister into prison and him onto a prison barge for the rest of his life for a simple accident. Jesus is really only a recurring background figure in the story of Judah’s struggle for freedom, then revenge, then forgiveness – but an incredibly important one. Without the influence of Jesus’ actions and words, Judah would have pursued a path which led only to destruction, death, and pain.

On this Easter Sunday I would like to encourage you all, no matter what your religious background may be, to have the courage to believe in something – to have faith in an idea, a deity, or a cosmic force. Ben-Hur, through the course of the film, becomes a believer in Jesus as the Messiah, but some of his most impactful moments on Ben’s life occur when Ben listens to him just as a man. It’s Jesus’ words, the ideas which he urges others to adopt and which he himself lives daily, in which Ben first starts to believe. And it’s these ideas, that we should forgive those who do us wrong, that there is a justice far higher than that of man, that love in the face of hate is the worthiest weapon, that change Ben’s life forever.

Photo by jlwo via Flickr
Photo by jlwo via Flickr

Faith, the belief in an idea or truth which has no measurable existence, is a force unlike any other. It’s hard work, faith. Something that I’ve personally struggled with in my own life for the past few years is keeping faith in things like my religion, other people in my life, my own goals, and my own beliefs. But without faith, hope is hard to come by; and without hope, life can seem awfully empty most of the time. Have faith in each other, in your friends and neighbors, in the world as a whole, in fate, in science, in anything, and you give yourself the energy you need to do extraordinary things in our own life and the life of others.

Happy Easter everyone!

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Where Do We Come From

Anthropology, the study of humanity's biological history, has a rich and often complex history of its own. (Photo by the Smithsonian Institute)
Anthropology, the study of humanity’s biological history, has a rich and often complex history of its own. (Photo by the Smithsonian Institute)

In the course of our lives, many of us come to ask ourselves the existential questions: Who am I? Why am I here? Where do I come from? While the answers to the first two questions may come only from within ourselves or from the hand of some higher being, the last question may be answered by science – paleoanthropology to be exact. Through the study of early hominids, humanity can find some answers about where we, as a species, come from – how we evolved and how we spread from our original home in Africa. However, the traditional model for understanding the dispersal of hominids out of Africa might be overly simplistic. Archaeological evidence has come to light that muddies the waters quite a bit.

Homo Erectus, thought to be the first of our ancestors to migrate out of Africa...or was he? (Photo by Frank Vincentz)
Homo Erectus, thought to be the first of our ancestors to migrate out of Africa…or was he? (Photo by Frank Vincentz)

Back when the waters were clear, the model for understanding the dispersal of hominids out of Africa was fairly straightforward. Put simply, Homo erectus/ergaster evolved in East Africa around two million years ago. Due to its increased physical capabilities and its new behavioral skills, Homo erectus/ergaster was able to emigrate to other areas of the Old World. This theory made sense on several different levels. First, geographically Africa is where this new grade of hominid would have developed. Second, Homo erectus/ergaster would have the ability to travel these longer distances with their bigger body types and more developed brains. Lastly, their technology was more advanced, enabling them to utilize a wide range of resources (Lewis, Jurmain and Kilgore, 2007, p. 228).

Picture of the Dmanisi Excavation Site, taken by the Georgian National Museum
Picture of the Dmanisi Excavation Site, taken by the Georgian National Museum

While this model sounds straightforward enough, the Dmanisi Hominids challenged the model in some fundamental ways. Named for the place in which the fossils were unearthed, the hominids discovered at this site are unlike many other hominids previously discussed – they may not even belong to the same grade of hominid evolution as other Homo erectus/ergaster. What makes these remains so important is that they are the best preserved hominids of such an old age found anywhere outside of Africa (Lewis, Jurmain and Kilgore, 2007, p. 228). While the Dmanisi Hominids have some characteristics in common with Homo erectus/ergaster, they also share several characteristics with early Homo specimens from East Africa. Stone tools have also been recovered from Dmanisi that are much more similar to early ones found in Africa than the advanced ones associated with Homo erectus/ergaster in the Old World. This has forced researchers to question whether or not Homo erectus/ergaster was the first hominid to leave Africa or if an earlier form of Homo claimed that prize. Was it possible that a large brain, sophisticated tool culture, and robust body were not needed to disperse out of Africa (Lewis, Jurmain and Kilgore, 2007, p. 229)?

With these questions being asked, the model for understanding the dispersal of hominids out of Africa has been revised in several ways.  It seems likely now that the first hominid migrants from Africa to the Old World were not Homo erectus/ergaster but an early form of Homo, similar to Homo habilis. More generally it appears that researchers in the field may have to reevaluate the status of early Homo as well as the core of the whole dispersal model, i.e. those factors that initially motivated hominids out of Africa (Lewis, Jurmain and Kilgore, 2007, p. 229).

It seems that we may not have such a clear idea of where we come from after all. But the answer is their within our grasp. We simply have to dig a little bit deeper and study a little bit longer to uncover the truth about our origins and the truth about how we came to inhabit not just one continent, but an entire planet.

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Smashing Pumpkins

I had already decided to break up with David when the pumpkin shaped cupcake appeared on my desk.

Ten minutes before the bell rang, I meandered into my classroom and spotted the cake, staring back at me with shiny black candy eyes and a mockingly sweet sugar smile. Ms. Robertson’s sly smirk told me all I needed to know about who had surreptitiously gained access to the classroom in the wee hours of the morning and secreted the pumpkin onto my desk.

David was my second real boyfriend, the first being a senior who had only been interested in sticking his tongue down my throat. I left him and a score of other painful memories behind when my family moved across country my junior year of high school. David was in my AP English class, fourth period, just before lunch. He was smart; sardonic and ironically romantic. He liked history; he liked me. But more important than all that was that he made me feel attractive for the first time in my life. Having resolved to make the most of the chance to reinvent myself in a new town, I boldly handed David my phone number after class one day with nothing more than a wink and a smile. We flirted via text for about a week before he officially asked me out.

I was thrilled to have a boyfriend, but it quickly became clear to me that I was more excited to be somebody’s girlfriend, than I was in being David’s girlfriend specifically. I liked him very much, but in love with him I was not.

I waited these feelings out for an uncomfortable few months, feeling like a liar when I wasn’t immersed in the glow of his attention, hoping that I would start to fall in love with him soon. By October I realized that it was just not going to happen. I was reluctant to break things off at first, but I soon realized that cool, snide David would be barely affected by my rejection. After all, nothing affected him much.

That’s when the cupcake appeared.

It was my first Halloween in a new town, and no one had warned me that teens smashing every carved pumpkin they could find was a customary way to celebrate the holiday. I was honestly and unexpectedly devastated the morning I went out to the bus to find my carefully crafted witch pumpkin in pieces on our driveway. I had never before experienced a pointless act of destruction like that and I told everyone at school about it, including David, in an attempt to make some sense out of the senselessness. The next morning, I found the pumpkin cupcake, with a small handwritten note under it saying, “A sweet replacement for the one you lost”.

I sat down at my desk, speechless, staring at the bright orange, frosted mass. The cupcake was an act of pure sentimentality, a trait I had not suspected David of possessing. Its only purpose was to make me feel better; not to make a joke at my expense or make him feel like a good boyfriend. It was only for me.

It had never occurred to me before that moment, before the pumpkin cupcake, how much I was actually going to hurt him.

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