An argument that we should be optimistic about the capacity of "methodologically omnivorous" geologists, paleontologists, and archaeologists to uncover truths about the deep past.
The "historical sciences"--geology, paleontology, and archaeology--have made extraordinary progress in advancing our understanding of the deep past. How has this been possible, given that the evidence they have to work with offers mere traces of the past? In Rock, Bone, and Ruin, Adrian Currie explains that these scientists are "methodological omnivores," with a variety of strategies and techniques at their disposal, and that this gives us every reason to be optimistic about their capacity to uncover truths about prehistory. Creative and opportunistic paleontologists, for example, discovered and described a new species of prehistoric duck-billed platypus from a single fossilized tooth. Examining the complex reasoning processes of historical science, Currie also considers philosophical and scientific reflection on the relationship between past and present, the nature of evidence, contingency, and scientific progress.
Currie draws on varied examples from across the historical sciences, from Mayan ritual sacrifice to giant Mesozoic fleas to Mars's mysterious watery past, to develop an account of the nature of, and resources available to, historical science. He presents two major case studies: the emerging explanation of sauropod size, and the "snowball earth" hypothesis that accounts for signs of glaciation in Neoproterozoic tropics. He develops the Ripple Model of Evidence to analyze "unlucky circumstances" in scientific investigation; examines and refutes arguments for pessimism about the capacity of the historical sciences, defending the role of analogy and arguing that simulations have an experiment-like function. Currie argues for a creative, open-ended approach, "empirically grounded" speculation.
I'm currently a Senior Lecturer in the Department of Sociology, Philosophy and Anthropology at Exeter. I'm interested in scientific method: how do scientists generate knowledge and why does it work? I don't think there's a particularly interesting general answer to this question. After all, scientists are a motley, opportunist bunch. They utilize a wide variety of methods and techniques in order to exploit varying lines of evidence towards a variety of different aims. Much of the philosophical action is local. This doesn't mean that us philosophers of science can't say anything general about knowledge, knowledge-generation, or the world. Rather, it means that such claims are best constructed in a piecemeal fashion. Much of my research focuses on the 'historical' sciences: paleontology, archaeology, geology and so forth. I argue that both philosophers and methodologically reflective scientists have underestimated the epistemic resources available for uncovering the deep past, and have missed the power of such sciences. Instead, I provide an expansive account of those resources: we should be optimists about our capacity to uncover much about the deep past.
My research isn't restricted to the historical sciences. I'm interested in science in general, particularly the relationship between different epistemic practices like experiments and simulations. I've also investigated the 'comparative method': how biologists exploit ancestral relations and similarities in environment to inform their studies. I enjoy reflecting on philosophical method, particularly the use of case studies in the philosophy of science, truth-telling in philosophical pedagogy and method in historiography. I also touch upon how the structure of scientific communities - what counts as good evidence, publications standards, and so forth - shape how research develops. I'm in the early stages of writing a book exploring the idea that the byproducts of scientific investigations are typically where their value lies. I also have work on the aesthetic and scientific aspects of music. I love collaborating.
I'm one of the founders of, and a regular contributor to, Extinct, a blog covering the intersection between philosophy and paleontology.
I grew up in Christchurch, New Zealand and have studied and taught at Victoria University of Wellington, Australian National University, the University of Sydney, the University of Calgary, Cambridge and Exeter(my current abode). I enjoy tramping (in New Zealand), bushwalking (in Australia), hiking (in North America) and rambling (in the UK) - but don't for goshsakes ask me to navigate.
Email me on a.currie [at] exeter [dot] ac [dot] uk