How We Got Here

A Star Stuff collection · 4 pieces

One link per spread, from a settled fact in physical science to something that is happening to us now — and the strength of every link printed on its face.


Why we make these

To take science back from the things that wear its clothes. Eugenics and behaviourism did not fail because they were too scientific. They took real mathematics — a curve built for observational error, a law of effect measured honestly in cats — and applied it to human beings without the discipline that made it work in the first place. That is what every chain in this collection turns out to be about.

Three things get mistaken for science and are its opposite. Pseudo-science, which has none of the method. Scientism, which keeps the authority and drops the practice — the p-value and the phrase evidence-based without the pre-registration, the blinding, the reported harms, the published null. And the smoothed popular retelling, which files off every hedge until a contested finding arrives as a fact, because the tidy version travels further.

When those tools get pointed at people, they flatten exactly the variation the science elsewhere insists is real — and they measure the surface, badly. The result is epistemic injustice with a citation attached, which is far harder to answer than a plain insult. So these chains are not arguments against evidence. They are arguments for the parts that got left behind on the way here.

What holds these together

This collection sorts by form, not by register — the same odd axis Field Guides sorts on, and we say so here rather than let it read as an oversight. Everywhere else on this site a piece follows one fact down. A chain follows many facts sideways, across a century or two, and what carries the argument is not any single fact but the handoffs between them.

The shape comes from James Burke's Connections (BBC, 1978), which Cosmic Connections already names as one of the two lineages inside this site's tagline — the other being Carl Sagan's The Cosmic Connection (1973). Burke's argument is that nothing in the modern world can be understood in isolation, because it was assembled out of centuries of unrelated people solving unrelated problems for reasons of their own, none of them aiming at what they produced.

The name is borrowed twice over, and honestly. How did we get here is the title of the paper underneath No. 39 — Randall, Ewing, Marr, Jimenez and Bourouiba's reconstruction of the five-micron myth. We noticed the phrase fit the whole form only after two of these existed.

Why the joints are marked

Here is the problem with the form, stated plainly: a chain is built to feel inevitable. Each link arrives just as the last one lands, the story accelerates, and by the end a reader has been persuaded by momentum rather than by evidence. Burke's chains are wonderful and some of his links are frankly loose. This site's standard is to verify everything and to say what we could not verify. Those two things are in direct tension.

So the form carries the epistemics instead of a footnote doing it. Every link is claimed at one of three strengths, said in the prose and drawn into the running spine at the foot of each spread:

documented There is a source for the causal link itself, not merely for the two things it joins. A supervision, a citation, a person acknowledging the debt in print.
contested The connection is argued, inferred, or actively disputed in current scholarship — including by the historians we are relying on. Where they hedge, we hedge.
leap We are rhyming, and we say so. A resonance worth drawing that licenses nothing. The star-stuff bridge in No. 39 is tagged this way on purpose.

This is not decoration, and the test is whether the mix is real. In No. 38: six documented, three contested, one leap — and the chain's own founding anecdote is among the contested ones, placed first so the notation is taught on the weakest link rather than the strongest. In No. 39 the load-bearing joint is marked contested because the paper reconstructing it will only call the connection likely, having found no explicit statement of it anywhere in the literature they reviewed.

What every chain here ends up saying

Nobody authored the road. Not one of the people in these chains was aiming at where it arrived. An astronomer wanted accurate transit times; a bacteriologist wanted to know how far a sneeze goes; an educator wanted children protected from arbitrary marking; an epidemiologist was preparing students for a real threat. Each solved their own problem competently, and could not have seen what it would join up with a century downstream.

That is not an excuse — the harm is not smaller for being unintended. It is a route. A thing that was accumulated can be dis-accumulated, one competent adjustment at a time, in the other direction. You do not have to defeat a conspiracy. You have to go back and read the citation.

Two pieces, and why that is enough to name it

Collections here are observed, not planned — the argument Cosmic Connections makes about the whole site. Eleven collections were noticed only after thirty-five zines had accumulated in no folders at all, and Field Guides waited until there were eleven of them.

So this page was deliberately deferred when the first chain shipped. It exists now because the second one arrived with the same shape, the same notation and the same ending, and because Stars We Grew Up On has been carrying two numbered zines for months. Two is the floor here, not a shortcut. The form was found in the work; the folder came after.

Not

Not a conspiracy genre. The chains here are about accumulation, not design. If a piece in this collection ever reads as though somebody planned the outcome, it has gone wrong — that reading makes the history smaller, and it lets the accumulation off.

Not a licence to leap. The tags exist to make weak links visible, not permissible. A chain that needed three leap joints to reach its conclusion would not be publishable here; it would be a different, shorter piece.

Not history as inevitability. Every one of these chains contains a moment where somebody could plainly have done otherwise, and often somebody said so at the time and was ignored. Naming those moments is the point.

Not finished. Where a source could not be read at the primary, the piece says so on the page and the open item is logged. See the changelog for what we have got wrong and corrected.

The pieces

In the order they were made. The number records when; the collection records what.

Zine No. 38
Eight Tenths of a Second
Stimpunks Zines

In February 1796 the Astronomer Royal dismissed his assistant David Kinnebrook for marking star transits eight tenths of a second late. Bessel later established that observers differ from one another systematically and irreducibly — and astronomy's answer was the personal equation: publish a constant for each observer, build the variation into the model, keep the observer. The chain follows the measuring apparatus out of the observatory — Wundt's laboratory, Cattell's “mental tests,” Thorndike's puzzle boxes and his 1918 credo that whatever exists at all exists in some amount, Kelly's Kansas Silent Reading Test, Pressey's machine built from typewriter parts, Skinner's teaching machines, Lovaas at UCLA in 1987 — while a second rail runs alongside from Galton through Kraepelin to the DSM. The two meet at a table with a child at it. The turn: school found the same human variation astronomy found, and made it the thing to remove. Six documented joints, three contested, one leap. Fourteen spreads, twelve diagrams, a running chain spine, a “Not:” refusals set.

Zine No. 39
Five Microns
Stimpunks Zines

In March 2020 the WHO posted “FACT: COVID-19 is NOT airborne” and called the alternative misinformation. Not a lie — doctrine, faithfully applied, resting on a number that had quietly changed questions. William Wells put the boundary between droplets that fall and droplets that evaporate into lingering nuclei at 100 micrometres, and never wrote 5; his own table gives a 1 µm particle sixteen hours to fall two metres. The 5 µm figure came from industrial hygiene asking which particles reach the deepest lung — deposition, not suspension — and Langmuir fused the two in 1951, in a lecture preparing public-health students for biological warfare months after Korea began. Meanwhile Flügge's team in Breslau had grown colonies nine metres from a sneeze in the 1890s, meant “droplets” to cover what we now call aerosols, waited five hours before reading their plates, and recommended ventilation. The 1–2 metre rule has its own separate lineage and turns out to match the width of a 1940s camera's field of view. Its load-bearing joint is contested because the historians will only call it likely. Fifteen spreads, thirteen diagrams, a two-rail spine that merges in the middle, a “Not:” refusals set.

Zine No. 40
Five Sigma
Stimpunks Zines

Particle physics will not say “discovery” below five sigma — a p-value of 3 × 10⁻⁷, about one in three and a half million — and Louis Lyons, who wrote the paper on why, argues the threshold should not even be uniform: he grades it by degree of surprise, impact, look-elsewhere effect and systematics, putting supersymmetry at 7σ and faster-than-light neutrinos above 8σ. Against that stands p = 0.05 — about 2σ — which Fisher chose in 1925 with the word convenient. The gap is roughly 170,000×, and it points the wrong way: physics demands more evidence to say a particle exists than we demand to say a child must be changed, and the particle is not harmed by our being wrong. Running Lyons' four dials on an intervention returns a figure past 7σ; then the systematics column turns out to be empty — 150 intervention studies for young Autistic children, 11 that mentioned adverse events at all. The first chain here with no leap joints: every gap in it is published and counted rather than inferred. Sixteen spreads, fourteen diagrams, two rails that never meet, a “Not:” refusals set.

Zine No. 41
A Conquering Gaze from Nowhere
Stimpunks Zines

For two centuries the strongest argument against a moving Earth was that the stars showed no parallax — valid reasoning, careful data, and a telescope quietly drawing its own artefacts onto the sky. Then Bessel measured 61 Cygni at 0.3136″ from Königsberg: a two-centimetre coin at thirteen kilometres. The method is the argument — the baseline is the observer's own displacement, so a view from nowhere has no baseline and cannot measure distance even in principle. Every rung of the distance ladder above it is calibrated by the rung below, and rung two was built by Henrietta Leavitt, a Harvard computer paid by the hour and not permitted to observe, published under her director's name. Haraway named the fantasy in 1988 — and her actual claim is the one usually dropped: only partial perspective promises objective vision. She refuses relativism just as flatly. Then WEIRD sampling, research done on us rather than with us, and a correction that is neither removing the observer nor declaring all views equal: publish your coordinates. Fifteen spreads, thirteen diagrams, a single rail with a marked baseline, a “Not:” refusals set.