At first glance, the formulation of the principle of inertia—not. yet complete with Galileo, more precise with Gassendi, finally systematic with Newton—seems to constitute but one of the aspects of a process of deep transformations at the end of which traditional cosmology was replaced by various world systems. These transformations—or, to use a more classic term, this “ scientific revolution” —have been the object of numerous works, a list, of which would alone fill the pages of a thick volume. But the principle of inertia itself, a principle about which can be said without exaggeration that it expressed the essence of this revolution at the same time as it stimulated it, has perhaps not received all the attention it deserves. And especially the impact of this principle on Western culture has not been fully measured. True, Alexandre Koyré has always insisted on the fact that, by reducing movement to a state like that of the state of rest, the principle of inertia expressed a new vision of the world more than a scientific result. But his admirable analyses deal more with the slow advent of the priciple of inertia among the natural philosophers who preceded, accompanied and then followed Galileo than with the theological, philosophical and literary impact of this principle. Moreover, by examining this impact, we discover that it is necessary to make a distinction between Euclidian space and absolute space, a distinction which is frequently implicit with certain scientific historians, but, and this must be emphasized, is more often ignored.

Hardly any other problem has been discussed more than that of the status of time in modem physics. This is only natural since there are not many other more important problems in philosophy of science and in philosophy in general. There are also few other areas where controversies as well as confusion were more frequent. This is true not only of popular and semi-popular expositions of the Minkowski concept of space-time but also of a number of its philosophical interpretations. Generally we do not find anything of this kind in the writings of physicists, at least as long as they confine themselves to strictly mathematical and physical expositions; but when they sometimes venture beyond a strictly mathematical approach, they often do not escape certain unconscious or semi-conscious prejudices which are contrary not only to the spirit but sometimes even to the letter of relativity. The true significance of the relativistic fusion of space and time can be understood only when we contrast it with its classical counterpart, i.e., with what may be called the Newtonian space-time. Only on such a contrasting background will the revolutionary meaning of the new concept clearly stand out.

Philosophers and others have often debated whether we have freewill: i.e. whether (in a sense I shall try to elucidate) our power to choose between X and Y is radically undetermined, so that if we choose X we yet might have chosen Y, and vice versa. My concern is not with that question but with a hypothetical one which arises from it: if we had such freewill, what implications, if any, would, that fact have for the sciences. My argument concentrates on the social sciences, since the phenomena with which they deal inevitably involves human choice.

Renaissance and Baroque, two terms unknown in the ages they describe, are now an integral part of the general public's cultural vocabulary. The first encompasses European civilization from the mid-fifteenth century to around 1550, and the second refers to developments in the seventeenth century, with the intervening fifty years forming a period of transition termed Mannerism. Beginning with the appearance of Heinrich Wölfflin's Kunst geschichtliche Grundbegriffe in 1915, these two great epochs of intellectual development have been described quite successfully by juxtaposing the one with the other. Wölfffin, for example, saw five great categories of discrimination between the two, namely Linear and Painterly, Plane and Recession, Closed and Open Form (Tectonic and A-tectonic Form), Multiplicity and Unity (Multiple Unity and Unified Unity), and Clearness and Unclearness (Absolute and Relative Clearness). More recently, Wylie Sypher in Four Stages of Renaissance Style has extended the list with the polar characteristics of Cyclic-Broken (Cyclothym-Schizothym), Exact-Abstract (Representational-Nonrepresentational), Visual-Haptic, Nearseeing-Farseeing, Dark-Light, Horizontal/Vertical-Oblique/Spiraling, and Points/Lines-Planes/Volumes.

Since 1973 the experts of O.C.D.E. have been presenting the development of systems born of computer science and telecommunication as a “ second industrial revolution.” A year earlier the Japan Computer Usage Development Institute announced for the year 2000 the advent of a “society of information.”

Does modernity still have a future? The news from the modern world suggests a negative answer. It is true, the project of modernity, in the fourth century after its inception, has still not been brought to its completion. Modern man has not yet succeeded in establishing himself as maître et possesseur de la nature. Nevertheless, he has elevated himself above his earthly existence by mastering the laws of space travel; the man in the moon, formerly a mythological figure, has now an American name. Modern man has not yet reached Utopia where the necessity of labor and the ease of leisure would be reconciled; in many regards, he is still bound to toil for his subsistence. But he has invented artificial intelligence and thus has found a humanoid substitute for an endless number of cumbersome tasks; work is transformed into computer games. Modern man has not yet become the Lord of his life, he continues to miss a complete control over infirmities, afflictions, and, finally, death. But he has fathomed the biochemical basis of life and acquired the skills to manipulate the forms of being; the breath of life is recorded as genetic code.