Focus: Why Science Museums Matter:

History of Science in Museums in

the Twenty-First Century

Introduction: History of Science Museums

between Academics and Audiences
Ad Maas, Museum Boerhaave

Abstract: This essay is an introduction to an Isis Focus section on the social and
scientific relevance of history of science museums: “Why Science Museums Matter:
History of Science in Museums in the Twenty-First Century.” Using the history of Mu-
seum Boerhaave, the Dutch National Museum for the History of Science and Medi-
cine, as a guideline, the essay shows that over the course of time addressing a variety
of audiences became a major worry for science museums, which also had to bridge
a widening gap between popular views on history of science and those developed by
professional historians of science.

A ugust Crommelin (1878–1965) was not of the common run. As the founder and first direc-
tor of the Dutch historical museum for the natural sciences (Nederlands Historisch Natuur-
wetenschappelijk Museum), he was willing only reluctantly to accommodate “holidaymakers
who on a rainy day . . . can’t think of anything better to do than wander into a museum.” The
museum was intended primarily for the “educated public.” Apparently Crommelin did not
regard the scientific edification of the Dutch people as a task for a museum, although he did
admit that visiting “judiciously arranged museums and exhibitions can contribute to lifting our
people to regions of development and civilization, that cannot be reached through other cul-
tural factors, such as film, radio, jazz, bridge, and crossword puzzles.”1 A physicist, Crommelin
was associate director of the world-famous “cold laboratory” of the Nobel Prize laureate Heike
Kamerlingh Onnes (1853–1926), lecturer at Leiden University, and—from 1935—director of
the Leiden Instrument Makers School. He enjoyed visiting museums, played the piano and

Ad Maas is a historian of science and a curator at Museum Boerhaave, the Dutch National Museum for the History of Science
and Medicine. He is also Book Review Editor for Isis. Museum Boerhaave, Leiden, Netherlands; admaas@museumboerhaave.nl.
Acknowledgments. This Focus section was preceded by a preparatory workshop held on 17 December 2016. We thank Museum
Boerhaave for hosting this workshop and the Descartes Centre for the History and Philosophy of the Sciences and the Humani-
ties (Utrecht University) for financial support.
1
Notes made by Crommelin for a speech given on the occasion of the opening of the National Museum for the history of the
sciences, 1947, Archives Museum Boerhaave, Leiden. (Here and throughout this essay, translations into English are mine unless
otherwise indicated.)

Isis, volume 108, number 2. © 2017 by The History of Science Society.

All rights reserved. 0021-1753/2017/0108-0009$10.00.
360
 Focus
Isis—Volume 108, Number 2, June 2017 361

the cello, and loved antique culture and the sciences—and he expected visitors to his museum
to be kindred spirits.2
Crommelin and other scholars involved in the founding of the museum, situated in the
former Boerhaave Laboratorium (Boerhaave Laboratory) in Leiden, belonged to a small cir­
cle of academics (professors, physicians, dentists) who were able to appreciate the historical
significance and ingenuity of scientific and medical instruments. The museum, which opened
its doors in 1931, thus became first of all a place for the small Dutch academically trained
community.
Obviously, Crommelin did not worry about strategies for addressing target groups: his peers
were his public, his personal contacts his PR; his only “didactic” tool was a small exhibition
guide. He would have been highly—and quite unpleasantly—surprised to see how, in 2017,
the relevance of history of science museums has come to depend to a considerable degree on
exhibition techniques, educational programs, and marketing. He would have been equally
surprised to learn that these museums consider jazz lovers and bridge players rather cultured
and that they try by every means possible to provide such patrons—and even less educated
audiences—with a glimpse of their holdings in a way that suits the visitors’ varying perceptions.
He would have been amazed to find a Focus section in Isis addressing such worries.
History of science museums have been the topic of a Focus section before (“Museums and
the History of Science,” Isis, 2005, 96:559–608). However, whereas the earlier Focus section
mainly addressed museums, museum collections, and museum buildings as objects of study
for historians of science, we now discuss their social and scientific relevance. Why do they exist
at all? How can they retain or enhance their significance? Before introducing the essays in this
Focus section, I will continue my brief history of Museum Boerhaave, in order to show how its
relevance became increasingly identified with its capacity to reach diverse audiences.
The nature of the Dutch museum for the history of science changed in 1947, shortly after
the German Occupation, when it acquired the status of a “national museum” and Maria Roose-
boom (1909–1978) succeeded Crommelin as director. Rooseboom, though not of particularly
humble origins either (she was a close friend of Queen Juliana), decided to make the museum
more accessible to “less educated people.”3 For the first time temporary exhibitions were or-
ganized. With these exhibitions, the museum managed to address a more diverse audience.
Rooseboom now had to deal with visitors who were not necessarily prepared to understand
the scientific artifacts, but she soon learned “that it is possible to present a topic in such a way
that the specialist as well as the superficially interested finds something to suit him.” Addres­
sing those “superficially interested,” however, required extra effort, as was noted in the annual
report of the museum for 1961: “Scientific instruments do not speak for themselves . . . utmost
care should be taken to explain these.”4 Thus, schematic drawings, reproductions, texts, and
demonstrations were displayed along with the objects, all of which helped to explain them.5 In

2
Willem Otterspeer, “Begin en context van het Museum Boerhaave,” in 75 jaar Museum Boerhaave (Leiden: Museum Boer-
haave, 2007), pp. 5–11; Ad Maas, “Crommelins elitaire instrumenten,” Nederlands Tijdschrift voor Natuurkunde, 2007, 73:184–
187; Tim Huisman, “Layers of Meaning, from Scientific Instrument to Exhibition at the Museum Boerhaave,” in Centres and
Cycles of Accumulation in and around the Netherlands during the Early Modern Period, ed. Lissa Roberts (Berlin: LIT, 2011),
pp. 231–254; and Dirk van Delft, “Museum Boerhaave en het primaat van de collectie,” Studium, 2013, 6:215–223.
3
On Rooseboom see Marian Fournier, “Maria Rooseboom (1909–1978),” Studium, 2013, 6:300–304.
4
Rijksmuseum voor de Geschiedenis der Natuurwetenschappen: Verslag van de directeur over het jaar 1954 (The Hague: Staatsuit-
geverij, 1955), p. 5; and “Rijksmuseum voor de Geschiedenis der Natuurwetenschappen: Verslag van de directrice over het jaar
1961,” in Verslagen omtrent ‘s Rijks verzamelingen van geschiedenis en kunst (The Hague: Staatsuitgeverij, 1963), pp. 161–170,
on p. 162.
5
Het Vaderland, 24 Aug. 1961.
362  Ad Maas Introduction: History of Science Museums between Academics and Audiences

that same period, a start was also made on what we would now call PR. It was observed in the
annual report for 1953—with some surprise—“that through publicity the interest of the public
could be considerably enhanced.” Rooseboom, known as a hard worker, also promoted group
visits, initiated prize contests for students, introduced the use of exhibition posters, and worried
about clear and accessible techniques of display. In her own words, the museum changed from
a study collection (studieverzameling) to a “didactic museum” (didactisch museum).6
The number of annual visitors increased from a few hundred before the war to a few thou-
sand. Still a modest number, perhaps, but the institution had made a marked, qualitative
change. It had truly become a “public” museum, accessible to all audiences—regardless of
their background—who came to take in the collection in order to enhance their cultural and
scientific education. Although collection conservation remained an important objective, from
this point on the significance of the museum increasingly relied on its capacity to draw wider
audiences.
The case of the Leiden museum (now known as Museum Boerhaave) is certainly not rep-
resentative for history of science museums at large. By their very nature, large and well-known
fellow institutions such as the Deutsches Museum, the Musée des Art et Métiers, and the
Science Museum in London have always been “didactic museums.” Seeking to promote the
natural sciences—for their “material” blessings as well as their cultural value—they aimed to
draw a wide diversity of audiences (see the survey by Lara Bergers and Didi Van Trijp in this
Focus section). Yet bridging the gap between objects and audiences has become considerably
more demanding for these museums as well. At the Science Museum, for instance, “questions
of narrative, structure and appearance were hardly considered before 1950.” Only thereafter
did exhibition craft develop into a “game of communication” in which design and “narrative
spirit” were systematically involved.7 Unique in its own right, the way in which attracting visi-
tors became a key issue for Museum Boerhaave reflects in a telling manner the developments
that history of science museums with very different origins have undergone. The pressures
of societal and technological forces have led to dwindling state support and increased com-
mercialization, a need to draw ever larger visitor numbers, and increasing competition from
science centers, with their playful approaches, as well as blockbuster exhibitions and outside
distractions such as television and PlayStation. Visitors—now, indeed, conceptualized as con-
sumers—need to be entertained rather than merely educated and have to be persuaded by
slick marketing campaigns. As Victoria Cain indicates in her essay in this Focus section, the
Zeitgeist has occasionally reared its head in a way that has not been friendly to history of sci-
ence in museums. Bergers and Van Trijp—who open the section, as a service to the reader,
with a bird’s-eye view of the landscape of history of science museums—describe how these
museums, despite very different origins, have converged into institutions that “often grapple
with very similar challenges.”
As I am writing these words, Museum Boerhaave is being completely refurbished. The
profiles of our target groups have been meticulously investigated by a professional research
bureau (Motivaction), which has created three fictitious personae who represent our most
important types of visitors: Willem, the somewhat older, educated, culture-loving visitor, who

6
Rijksmuseum voor de Geschiedenis der Natuurwetenschappen: Verslag van de directrice over het jaar 1953 (The Hague: Staat-
suitgeverij, 1955); and Maria Rooseboom, “Musea,” in Vijftig jaren beoefening van de geschiedenis der geneeskunde wiskunde,
natuurwetenschappen in Nederland 1913–1963, ed. B. P. M. Schulte (N.p., 1963), pp. 89–107.
7
Andrew Nahum, “Exhibiting Science: Changing Conceptions of Science Museum Display,” in Science for the Nation: Per-
spectives on the History of the Science Museum, ed. Peter J. T. Morris (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010), pp. 176–193, on
pp. 176, 192.
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Isis—Volume 108, Number 2, June 2017 363

is looking for depth; Sylvia, a not particularly culture- or science-minded parent, who is mainly
looking for an entertaining learning experience for her children; and, finally, the postmod-
ern thrill-seeker Jasper, who will most likely visit the museum for exciting special events and
festivals and is attracted to immersive interactives. Painstakingly, the museum staff is design-
ing a new permanent exhibition. First and foremost, the choices of themes and objects, and
the tools to bring these to life, will be tailored to the interests of Willem, Sylvia, and Jasper
(and their opposite-sex counterparts). Our old logo—the words “Museum Boerhaave Leiden,”
cleverly combined to form the outline of a key, the symbol of the city of Leiden—is being re-
placed by a genuine “corporate identity.” If only Crommelin could have known!
Rooseboom was succeeded in 1969 by A. J. F. Gogelein (1928–2017), a not very outspoken
director who kept the seat warm (to put it colloquially) for a more determined successor: Gerrit
Veeneman. Under his firm command Museum Boerhaave moved in 1991 to the former Cae-
ciliagasthuis (Caecilia Guesthouse), a historic site that was rebuilt into a stylish museum build-
ing, reflecting the elan and character of its director. By this time, another gap had also started
to widen: that between “popular” views of history of science, on the one hand, and the increas-
ingly professionalizing history of science discipline, on the other. Professional historians of sci-
ence, for instance, questioned the firmly established notion of scientific progress, downplayed
the achievements of the great icons of science, and eventually challenged even such well-
known concepts as the Scientific Revolution. Whereas Crommelin and his audience largely
shared the same views on history of science, museums were now confronted with a balancing
act: attempting not to alienate their visitors by presenting history of science in a way that was
unfamiliar to them while at the same time doing justice to the results of professional historical
research. Interestingly, Veeneman’s museum took a clear position on this matter: in the new
exhibition “hero stories” were firmly dismissed. Thus no attempts were made to draw extra at-
tention to iconic pieces like the Van Leeuwenhoek microscopes. Although these were at first
placed in the center of the room, they were later moved to a showcase somewhere on the side.
Terms like “Scientific Revolution” were not used in the exhibition texts.
Rebekah Higgitt’s vivid account in this Focus section of the challenges of realizing the
major international exhibition Ships, Clocks, and Stars: The Quest for Longitude at the Na-
tional Maritime Museum in Greenwich (2014) largely addresses these diverging perspectives
of professionals and laypersons. Her essay revolves around the brave attempts by the exhibition
organizers to adjust the popular but superseded story that emphasizes the endurance, hardship,
and final victory of the lone genius John Harrison in fulfilling the “quest” to find longitude at
sea. Rather than focusing on Harrison’s famous timekeepers, the organizers took a long time-
scale approach, emphasizing the points that other technical solutions had also been instrumen-
tal in overcoming the longitude problem and that many individuals had been involved with
the gradual progress that was achieved (and that did not end with Harrison’s H4). Rather than
being placed at center stage, Harrison’s timekeepers were sidelined in the exhibition—liter-
ally—rather like the Van Leeuwenhoek microscopes in Museum Boerhaave. In both cases, in­
cidentally, the antiheroic approach did not entirely succeed. In Museum Boerhaave visitors
frequently walked right past the unsightly Van Leeuwenhoek microscopes—or were puzzled
by the fact that these iconic pieces were not presented more prominently. In Ships, Clocks, and
Stars, on the other hand, people kept queuing in front of Harrison’s timekeepers, not noticing
or ignoring the organizers’ efforts to direct their attention to less famous but equally important
pieces. Higgitt’s story is an account of the obstinacy of daily practice. How can history of sci-
ence museums present the sophisticated views of professional historians, on the one hand, and
win the fleeting attention of the modern museum consumer, on the other?
The contributors to this Focus section agree on the counterproductive nature of heroic
narratives from a pedagogical point of view as well: rather than seeking to emulate detached
364  Ad Maas Introduction: History of Science Museums between Academics and Audiences

geniuses, people (and youth in particular) identify with more “down to earth” figures with vary-
ing skills and characters. And science is more adequately presented as a collective enterprise
than as an individualistic endeavor. Likewise, in the essays of Higgitt and Peter Heering the
approach of exhibiting iconic objects as isolated showpieces is dismissed in favor of a more
“organic” display in which objects (iconic or not) are part of a larger, more complex (but no
less intriguing!) narrative. Thus, the presentation accords better not only with the current state
of history of science but also with current trends in science education. In his piece, Heer-
ing shows that science education has changed from concentrating on the question “What do
scientists know?”—that is, scientific laws, concepts, and theories—to the question “How do
scientists know?”—which presents science as a human enterprise. This shift in emphasis, Heer-
ing argues, opens new opportunities for history of science museums. In particular, he discusses
the new tactics that bring together this more human view of science with an inquiry approach,
getting people actively involved in the challenges scientists have encountered in solving a cer­
tain scientific problem. Heering illustrates this with intriguing insights from his own experiences
in redoing historical experiments. Exhibition design, he argues next, could successfully incor­
porate both a “human view” and an inquiry approach. For this purpose, the technique of story-
telling should be adapted to the museum context. Thus, objects would become part of a larger
narrative that discusses the skills, processes, and human aspects of science.
What if we lived in a world without history of science museums? What would we miss? And
what alternative opportunities would there be for exhibiting historical scientific artifacts and
telling the stories connected to them? Victoria Cain’s engaging essay starts with the observation
that the popular Museum of Science, Boston, engages hardly at all with the region’s history of
science. Whereas after World War II Boston had become one of the world’s leading scientific
hubs, the MoSB, ironically, ceased to acknowledge its scientific heritage. As Cain contends,
the situation in Boston to some extent mirrors that in the United States at large. The way in
which museums are funded—depending heavily on admission fees—and at times the political
climate and prevailing educational practices have had adverse consequences for the display
of history of science. For history of science museums to thrive (as Higgitt also acknowledges),
some amount of public funding is indispensable, enabling them to eschew easily accessible
blockbusters and engage instead with somewhat more timid artifacts and more complex stories.
Cain acknowledges that “few would argue for the outright establishment of new history of
science museums throughout the United States. But integrating the topic into existing mu-
seums is entirely feasible.” By cleverly using the existing museum infrastructure and modern
information technology, history of science can become a museological presence, whether in
the form of traveling exhibitions, in multivenue presentations, or in popular public museums
or science centers. Cain encourages (academic) historians of science to take the initiative.
The contrast between Cain’s Boston and Portugal, as it is described in Marta Lourenço and
José Pedro Sousa Dias’s essay, is striking. Whereas Boston boasts a top-notch scientific com-
munity (especially from World War II onward) and stunning scientific feats that followed each
other at a breathtaking pace, Portuguese modern history of science is, rather, characterized by
tranquility. And whereas Cain notes that in Boston’s vibrant atmosphere the rapid repurposing
by scientists of old equipment has been a bane for collecting history of science, Portugal repre-
sents, indeed, the opposite case. Surprisingly, the lack of dynamism has proved beneficial for
the nation’s scientific heritage. Precisely because scientific equipment was seldom replaced, it
was kept in use and never thrown away. The resulting collections form, in the words of Lou-
renço and Sousa Dias, “time capsules.” With interest in the Portuguese scientific past emerging
quite recently, these time capsules have been transformed into a valuable scientific heritage.
Lourenço and Sousa Dias’s case reminds us, first, that countries that can boast less impressive
galleries of Nobel Prize winners can nonetheless have a world-class scientific heritage and,
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Isis—Volume 108, Number 2, June 2017 365

second, that such countries also consider it worthwhile to conserve their scientific heritage and
open it up to their citizens. Their essay reminds us, moreover, that along with attracting visitors
the conservation of scientific artifacts remains an important objective for history of science
museums to this day.
Why do history of science museums matter in the twentieth-first century? Obviously, by res-
onating with their audiences they can improve the image of science and, especially, encourage
enthusiasm in the young. They can also safely take up another traditional task, that of show-
ing the making of our modern, technological world. The contributions to this Focus section
discuss how these objectives can be realized in a manner that suits our time. Their arguments
point to a picture of scientific progress less straightforward and more ambiguous than is often
assumed. This picture has the benefit of “humanizing” scientists, making them people whom
others can identify with. However, the complexities of scientific practice, whether voiced by
the plural cast of Higgitt’s Ships, Clocks, and Stars or found in the subtleties of the solar micro-
scope experiments brought to life by Heering, also reveal the social fabric that underlies the
world of science. In an era in which the notion of “truth” is gaining entirely new dimensions,
the actions of scientists, our society’s ultimate tradesmen of truth—as revealed by historians
of science—are guided by the unwritten norms and rules for social behavior without which
scientific practice would grind to a halt. Among these is the convention that persuasion depends
(literally) on reasonable argumentation (usually in more than 140 characters) that is based on
logical consistency and facts, which are accepted as important (if not final) arbiters in decid-
ing on matters of truth; indeed, the numerous instances of their manipulation and abuse that
we find in the history of science only underline the significance attributed to them. As other
institutions that revolve around determining and discussing truth—public debate, the press, ju-
risprudence, politics—depend on these same values, elaborating this “soft side of science” can
help to stress the crucial importance of this vulnerable, vital social fabric for our democratic
society. “The history of science’s focus on the modern history of knowledge and knowing,” as
Cain puts it, “makes its study crucial in a world where information has run amok, where stories
that sway opinions, practices, and policies no longer adhere to recognizable proof or evidence.”
Are there better ways to make this plain than through the history of science? And are there bet-
ter venues for doing this than public museums? Indeed, this is why history of science museums
matter.