Seeing Further Read Free

elsewhere, often with fatal results. The Society, happily, never tried anything like that again.
    If the Royal Society had done nothing after Newton, its fame would be secure. In fact, there were times when it looked as if it might not do much. Twenty years after Newton’s reign, it had a president, Martin Folkes, who was famous for slumbering through meetings, and financial difficulties that threatened to become insoluble. By 1740, barely half the Fellows could be counted on to pay their dues, and some were so severely in arrears that the Society’s accumulated deficit had risen to over £1,800 – a worrying sum for a private body of modest size. Partly to restore the balance sheet, it began taking in members who were distinguished but not terribly scientific. By the end of the century, Fellows included Edward Gibbon, Warren Hastings and even Lord Byron. Without actually ceasing to be worthy, it could easily have declined into something more peripheral and much less important.
    Clearly that didn’t happen. At every critical moment throughout its history there has always been an Isaac Newton, a Joseph Banks, a Humphry Davy, a T.H. Huxley, a Lord Rutherford to give the Society clout and lustre, and to keep it firmly attached to scientific endeavour at the highest level.
    Today the Royal Society’s interests remain an inspiration to recite. It provides 350 research fellowships and its grants support the work of 3,000 scientists all over the world. It bestows great numbers of medals and prizes, maintains an active programme of lectures and debates, and holds a beloved Summer Science Exhibition, which no one who appreciates science and can get to London should miss. It acts as the scientific conscience of the nation. It publishes seven journals, and an endless stream of papers. It remains emphatically international in its outlook, maintaining close links with ninety-one science academies around the world. If we have an Earth worth living on a hundred years from now, the Royal Society will be one of the organisations our grandchildren will wish to thank.
    Poke your head through any door in the Royal Society building and what you are likely to find is people in meetings. They meet endlessly at the Royal Society. My own involvement, like that of most outsiders, has been as a member of committees – in my case a committee to select the winners of the annual books prize and another involved with the 350th anniversary celebrations – and on almost every visit to the building I have opened three or four wrong doors to find other people meeting. For a long time I wondered what they could possibly all be meeting about. Then I was given a copy of an extraordinary volume – a sturdy hardback called the
Royal Society Year Book,
which in about 500 pages summarises all that the Royal Society does in a year.
    Flick through it at random and you find that it is involved in an impossibly varied range of activities. There is a Dorothy Hodgkin Fellowships Committee, a Hooke Committee, a Trans-Antarctic Association UK Advisory Committee, a Darwin Correspondence Project, a Sir HaroldHartley Lecture Committee, a Scientific Unions Committee, a South East Asia Rainforest Research Committee, a Newton International Fellowships Committee, a Rosalind Franklin Award Committee, and dozens and dozens more. There is even an Anatomy, Physiology, Endocrinology and Pharmacology (Except Clinical Aspects) of Animal Systems, Neurosciences, Psychology and Reproductive Biology, and Relevant Agricultural Studies Committee (known informally, and perhaps a bit mercifully, as ‘Panel 8’).
    Altogether at the Royal Society there are ninety-six committees, all devoted to promoting important research, honouring an achievement, improving education, badgering governments into behaving intelligently, or otherwise effecting an enhancement to what we know or an improvement to how we proceed.
    The most important committees of all are the ten devoted to electing new Fellows.