This book often veers close to opening up whole new vistas in the history of thought. Occasionally it even approaches the goal it strives for, which is to show how the statistical consideration of human beings, specifically, the numbering of them as biological creatures with predictable amounts of death, disease, madness, suicide, and crime, led to a vision of a fundamentally indeterminate universe based not on concrete causes but by irreducible chance. But then, often at the moment such a vision is glimpsed, the book descends into non sequitors and indecipherable mummeries.
The basic idea is that before the 19th century, there was precious little data on which to speculate about human beings. It was only with John Sinclair and the British Board of Agriculture in 1792, and Krug and the Prussian Statistical Bureau after 1807, William Farr and the Registrar General of England after 1837, that governments began compiling regular data on basic things like births and deaths of their population. By the 1820s, governments began releasing more data on things like suicide, and it didn't take long before doctors (like Broussais, the leeches advocate and progenitor of phrenology) and social scientists noticed that these seeming individual events and choices had shocking amounts of regularities. However, unlike the physical data which formed earlier conceptions of causality and statistics, and which seemed to point to enduring causes and effects in nature, it was hard to reduce these social data to a precise formula. Eventually, it took people like Adolphe Quetelet, the Belgian Royal Astronomer who earlier studied the varying estimates of the stars, to postulate "l'homme moyen," the average man, and that men in general followed a curve like the one that Laplace speculated existed for physical occurrences, and for later people like C.S. Pierce, the US Coastal Survey official, who also moved from stars to humans, to speculate that almost all causes, physical and social, were based on chance, and could not be predicted with certainty ever. Earlier studies which had pointed out the variability of human observations of supposedly concrete and real events, eventually came to be interpreted as demonstrating the inherently subjective and probabilistic nature of all truth.
The individuals here are often portrayed only by their last name and without background, and their stories are mixed up with discussions of contemporary scholarship on them. The book left me wanting to know more about the connections between statistics, sociology, and philosophy in the 19th century, but also continuously frustrated by the author's inability to tell a concrete story. It's probable that I absorbed no more than 10% of the book.