Evolution from a Progressive, Historical Perspective

It’s a funny thing how a positive experience can make you feel personally cheated. Yesterday our class started a unit on evolution, but unlike other classes that teach evolution starting from the end, we started from the beginning. Everyone has heard of the Beagle’s voyage before, has heard of the different finches on the different islands that have the different beaks to find different food. Everyone knows the basics behind Darwin’s theory of natural selection, and nowadays, “good” science classes will address evolution and then transition into basic genetics, dipping into what we now know about heredity to further bolster evolution’s credibility. But that’s really only half the story, if that. A much clearer picture of evolution can be painted when you take a step back and observe the historical progression that lead to Darwin’s discovery of natural selection. Basically, over the past couple days, I have truly come to appreciate the value of studying the history of science.

One shortcoming of how evolution is usually taught is that Darwin is not examined closely enough. He didn’t just sail to the Galapagos and notice that similar species on the different islands resembled one another, and immediately realize they must have adapted to their different environments and evolved from a common ancestor. People had been to the Galapagos before, had observed animals there and elsewhere that resembled one another, but had not been struck by any ideas concerning the origins of biodiversity. Darwin had specific influences that helped him develop a particular mindset that made him to see the world differently. He was a student of geology, perhaps not formally, but certainly in his personal studies. He read the works of Lyell, a leading geologist at the time, and applied what he learned to thinking about how the land he observed while aboard the Beagle had formed. Geology theorized how the earth changed over time, and emphasized how gradual changes over a long period could accumulate and culminate in dramatic and massive formations. The ideas of gradual change central to geology helped Darwin look at nature progressively, which allowed him to see the relationships between different plants and animals that most men would miss. Darwin had also developed an interest in nature from a close friendship with a professor of botany, John Henslow, and decided to collect specimens from the different places the Beagle made port. Influenced by other books, such as Malthus’s “Essay on the Principle of Population,” and through close inspection of the specimens he had collected during his travels on the Beagle, he began to devise his theory of natural selection. But once again, one should step back and consider the theories on natural origins that preceded natural selection, that had laid a foundation for someone like Darwin to improve upon.

I’m not sure how widespread this problem is internationally, but in the United States, there is a surprising, actually shocking number of people who do not believe in evolution by natural selection, and most of that population does not believe in evolution at all. There are many that are bitter that creationism, under the name intelligent design, is not taught in science class as an alternate theory to evolution, or even in its place. Creationism does not belong in science class. The thought is ridiculous, the argument for it baseless, but whether we like it or not, a problem still exists. The way we teach evolution in schools is not the best way to convince someone that is deeply religious and indoctrinated by creationism of its legitimacy. Facts can be dismissed or ignored, evidence disregarded, proof met with distrust. But logic can be more convincing and harder to resist. After having now sat through a few classes that have taken a historical approach to teaching evolution, I feel very confident that there is a better way to reach our kids, and especially, to reach those who would otherwise remain skeptical of evolution and of the scientific method.

We don’t have to teach intelligent design to engage the super religious on familiar ground. I said our course started teaching evolution from the beginning. The story starts, I think, with natural theology. Natural theology arose after the scientific revolution, when men of science decided that, through close inspection of the world around them, they could better understand God by better understanding his creations. As geologists began to postulate how the earth’s surface had changed over time, and had begun to investigate the different strata of the crust, uncovering, in the process, different layers of rock and fossils distinct amongst the different strata, they sought to rationalize their observations with scripture. Many believed in two books, the book of God’s words, the bible, and the book of God’s works, the world and everything God had supposedly created. After it had been observed that there were distinct layers of crust that housed distinct fossils, a theory arose. It seemed to many that the earth’s strata could be explained by historical catastrophes. Some believed that Noah’s flood had washed over the earth and formed sedimentary layers, which would have included the remains of plants and animals that had inhabited the earth at the time. Still others, young earth creationists, believed that the world was 6000 years old, and that God, when he creates a mountain or a bird or a man, must create it with the illusion of age. They argued that God created everything, including the stratified crust and fossils, in the 6 days of creation, amounting to 6000 years as we perceive time. But this theory had a problem. People, especially geologists and other natural theologians, could not accept that God would have “created lies” by creating arbitrary fossils for man to discover and investigate. And slowly, the catastrophism that natural theologians had adopted, and that had been extended to rationalize Noah flood, began to die out. The earth’s surface was too complex. As geologists made more and more discoveries, and developed a clearer and clearer picture of how the earth’s surface had come to look the way it did, they could no longer fool themselves into thinking Noah’s flood belonged in the picture. Geologists adopted a theory of the ongoing, gradual changes of earth’s landforms, called uniformitarianism. Lyell, a pioneer uniformitarian, wrote a book called “Principles of Geology,” a book that influenced the way Darwin looked at the world greatly. I think we’ve heard the story from here.

For the sake of conciseness, I have tried to simplify the progression that I have just described. I may not have done a fabulous job, by my point is that great thinkers and investigators of the natural world set out initially to better understand God through his works. But over time, and after much observation and excavation, it seems natural theologians had learned too much. There was a point where they could no longer fool themselves into thinking that the world they lived in reflected what the scripture told them of the world’s origin. A lot more can be said about natural theology, and a stronger case can be made for why it was slowly replaced by the objective study of the natural world, omitting the consideration of God’s words. Over the past few days, I may have developed an interest in becoming the person who does.

I had never encountered natural theology in middle or high school. This week was the first time I had ever really heard of it. And it blows me away that in 2 days with Professor Durant, I feel like I learned more about Evolution and its origins than I did in 12 years of public schooling. It’s a disgrace, a testament to the lack of attentiveness or competence of whoever’s in charge of writing up public school curriculums. Religion has a huge influence over the majority of Americans. A commonly referenced poll states that 60% of Americans don’t believe in evolution, despite the fact that it’s taught in school, and education is compulsory in our country. So there are two problems. The first is that kids are indoctrinated by lies and told before they ever enter the classroom not to buy into the evidence presented for evolution. This is a problem we can’t do much about. The second problem is the way we teach evolution in school. We don’t teach it convincingly enough to reach an audience that is unwilling to listen. But this problem, I believe, we can do something about. The kids that will not listen to lessons on evolution starting with Darwin are the same kids that, I believe, would be very attentive if we were to teach natural theology from a historical perspective. I’m sure that the intentions of the natural theologians would resonate well with the super religious, and if teachers were to then present a convincing argument for why natural theology was eventually replaced by biology, geology, and evolution, making sure to present the evolution of how classical thinkers viewed the world around them in a progressive, systematic way, kids that may have otherwise shut their ears from the start may be reached. What we do now in our schools is not working. My idea is just that, an idea. But I think, at the very least, it’s time for somebody to propose a new lesson plan.

I feel rather strongly about this, and am considering doing some research and mapping out a more comprehensive picture of the origins of objective thought, reason, and the evolution of the way man viewed the world around him from the scientific revolution to Darwin. I want to try to put together a lesson plan for the way I think evolution should be taught in school, compiling the most important historical figures and events I can find to formulate the most convincing argument for the legitimacy of evolution that I can. I now believe the key to teaching evolution effectively lies in the acknowledgement of theories that preceded it, theories that illustrate that evolution is more grounded in evidence and logic than they were. There’s a reason why evolution replaced natural theology and was accepted as the single legitimate explanation for the observed biodiversity on our planet. Let’s remind our children of that reason.

Lessons of the Royal College of Physicians

As promised, I’d like to write a little about what I learned at the Royal College of Physicians in Edinburgh, but let me first describe how great the actual building was. The rooms were grand, high ceilinged, and adorned with intricate moldings, beautiful portraits, and in the libraries, extremely impressive book cases filled with volumes upon volumes of medical journals, the most precious of which were kept in the lower levels of the college to minimize degradation from humidity. Really not enough can be said about the beauty of these rooms. Between the artistic pillars (which we later found out were not actually made of marble, but of wood, since marble is much heavier and could have fallen through the floor), the grand murals painted on the ceilings, and the engraved wood framing the rooms themselves, this building was utter perfection.

Now that I’ve got that out of my system, what really made our tour of the college great was out tour guide, Morrice McCrae. He had just written a book on James Young Simpson, an early pioneer of chloroform as an anesthetic, and was super knowledgeable on all things simpsonian. He had a lot to say, and a lot of advice to give. Here are just a few things that I learned at the royal college of physicians:

1. Our Preoccupation with curing patients is a recent phenomenon.

Physicians in the nineteenth century and earlier wanted to see their patients trough their illnesses more so than cure them. They could do small things for them: make sure they continued to eat and drink, encourage plenty of rest, in some cases they would draw blood via leeches or a surgeon, etc. But for the most part, physicians were interested in letting disease run its course, and observing what sorts of symptoms would arise and digress over time.


2. Make money off of text books by publishing them in Spanish.

One of the more practical things our guide told us was, if any of us was ever to write and publish a textbook, getting it published in Spanish could yield big bucks. He told us that a few other historians he worked with had written textbooks, and that their best customers were in South America. And this was a good tip, because I know it’s not the easiest thing in the world to make money off of a textbook in the US. I’ll try to keep this little nugget of information in the back of my mind just in case.



3. Smokers have no excuse.

In a glass display case there was a 17th century text warning young people of the dangers of smoking. So if the knowledge that smoking was bad for you has been around for over 300 years, WHY THE HELL DO PEOPLE STILL SMOKE! Sorry, I had to get that out.


4. Little Miss Muffett was based on some doctor that liked ground up spiders.

Also in a glass display case, there was a book opened to a page about a Dr. Muffett, who used to make medicines that always included ground up spiders as an ingredient. According to our guide, Dr. Muffett was the inspiration behind the children’s rhyme, Little Miss Muffett.


5. Simpson got his ideas out there.

Finally we get to Simpson. Clearly when you take a tour and your tour guide is an expert on something, the most interesting thing you learn will probably be about that something. I have noticed something about historically significant men in medicine as we have looked at more and more of them: People that are remembered for making breakthroughs in medicine always find a way to get their ideas to the public. Edward Jenner was not the first person to observe that people that caught cow pox were later immune to small pox. Physicians in the country had been well aware of that fact long before Jenner decided to confirm the observation and popularize it. When Edward Jenner first wrote to the Royal Society about cowpox and a potential smallpox vaccine, he was told to drop his investigation if he valued his reputation. Rather than back down, he performed more experiments, wrote up a comprehensive manuscript of his findings, and published it himself. Now, he is remembered as “the Father of Inoculation,” and he has his initiative to blame for his success.

Simpson, in much the same way, made sure to make his ideas known to the public. The medical community was not very receptive to his backing of chloroform as an anesthetic, but Simpson was used to dealing with opposition. He had already started his own journal to publish his own papers so that he would not have to rely on the approval of other publishers. This way, he could get information to the public, and he knew if he had the public on his side, the scientific community would not be able to stifle his ideas. After having experimented with chloroform, he wrote a pamphlet describing its potential, published it, and got a friend to distribute it to the public of Edinburgh. It was sold on the streets for six pence, so it was accessible to just about everyone. Simpson didn’t talk down to his public audience either; the pamphlet was written in very scientific terms and, since Edinburgh was at the time the most literate place in the world, since it was one of the first places to institute compulsory education so that everyone would be able to read the bible, the people of Edinburgh were exposed to the meat of Simpson’s findings. Of course, the prospect of eliminating pain in childbirth attracted great attention, and the medical community was unable to stand against public enthusiasm. So Simpson is remembered as a pioneer of anesthesia, because he sidestepped his opposition and made sure his message was heard.

Men that discover are not always remembered over men that take the initiative to make their findings known. Moral of the story (story being history).

Reward vs Reputation

Something occurred to me in class while we were discussing anesthesia and how it initially met with resistance from the medical community. We had gone over basic reasons why certain surgeons didn’t want to use anesthesia: anesthesia isn’t completely safe, we can’t risk people’s lives just to lessen their pain in surgery, it puts our women in too submissive a state to be deemed appropriate, god wanted eve to suffer in childbirth, etc. But I suspect that a big reason the prospect of using drugs such as nitrous oxide, ether, and chloroform to alleviate pain in surgery wasn’t immediately adopted or accepted by the conservative medical community (and this explanation came up later in our class, and many people made the same comparison that I am soon to make) was because those drugs had been used recreationally before their potential as anesthetics was ever proposed.

We hadn’t discussed, in depth, the extent to which nitrous oxide, ether, and chloroform were used recreationally in the Victorian era. We read that Humphrey Davey, once he stumbled upon the mind-altering properties of nitrous oxide, used to inhale it and sit in the dark to “ponder existence” and “become one with the universe.” We heard briefly about ether frolics, and that James Young Simpson, the early pioneer of chloroform as an anesthetic, used to offer chloroform on handkerchiefs to his guests at dinner parties. Taking a closer look (which in this case means browsing the internet to learn a little more about the histories of these drugs), we see that the drugs extended a little further into the Victorian culture, into places other than just Davey’s laboratory and Simpson’s dinner parties. Nitrous oxide was used recreationally by the British upper class for four decades after Davey made a case for it as an anesthetic before it was finally used in surgery. It was served in the place of wine at social gatherings of the British upper class, its state-heightening properties were showcased at street fairs and festivals, and it was soon given the nickname, “laughing gas.” Before ether’s entry into the surgical world, it was used, especially in the United States, in “frolics” in which groups would gather, inhale various amounts of ether, become exhilarated, and dance around like madmen. Ether was also sometimes drunk, especially in Ireland. Chloroform, although not used recreationally for a long period of time, was certainly known for its intoxicating effects before it was observed that it eliminated pain for the user. Again, chloroform was mostly experimented with by members of the upper class.

Though these drugs were overshadowed by the recreational use of drugs such as opium and laudanum, opium mixed with alcohol, they were still known to society as state-altering substances. From the medical community’s point of view, these drugs did not seem like a breakthrough to be used to eliminate pain from the operating room. These were drugs that they already known, drugs that had no history of medical application, but a rich history in frivolity. And now for the comparison. The Victorian surgeons and physicians were faced with the same sort of situation that we, today, are faced with in considering letting a drug like marijuana into the medical realm. I think marijuana has a stronger reputation than was “enjoyed” by the anesthetic gasses of the nineteenth century, but the principle is the same. People use marijuana to get high. Is that enough of a reason to ban it for medical use?

One difference in the way that we, today, consider something like marijuana for medical use, versus how surgeons in the nineteenth century would have considered ether or chloroform, is that we know a lot more about substances today than did the Victorians. For example, the Victorians didn’t know that chloroform could deal serious damage to the liver, but they used it anyway. Today, we need to know everything about a substance before it’s cleared for medical use, though there is still a debate over exactly how much marijuana can help or harm the body. Studies show that marijuana can help patients that need to increase their appetites, such as patients with eating disorders or patients that are undergoing various cancer treatments. Marijuana is also a mild pain reliever, a reducer of nausea, and a muscle relaxant. However, other studies report that marijuana, when smoked, can cause lung cancer and bronchial damage. However the medical community weighs the risks versus the potential rewards of using marijuana in medical treatments, we as a society, who ultimately end up deciding if marijuana will or will not be used by doctors when we vote for or against it, judge it primarily on its reputation as a recreational drug. I’m not quite sure where I stand on today’s medical marijuana debate, but I know that many painful years passed for patients that could have had anesthesia in surgery if not for conservative surgeons basing their condemnation of pain-alleviating drugs on their recreational reputations. So I think we should try our best today to separate marijuana’s reputation from the debate over whether or not doctors should be able to prescribe it to their patients. We should consider marijuana on the basis of risk vs reward, not reward vs reputation.

Edinburgh and the Royal Colleges

Earlier, as I may have mentioned before, I took a trip to Paris to meet up with a good friend from high school. Paris blew me away, and I was pretty sure that no other place in the world could be as awe-inspiring or have such a profound effect on me. And then our class took a trip to Edinburgh, Scotland, and once again I was blown away. The city was so beautiful. I loved the brick walkways, the dark buildings, the hilly terrain that brought you to wonderful castles perched upon picturesque cliffs. And just outside the city, the gorgeous fields and miles of green, rolling hills convinced me that Scotland might even be on par with Paris. To say that I loved Edinburgh would be a vast understatement. But I can’t just go on and on about the beauty of the city, right? Our class obviously chose to visit Edinburgh for a reason.

We have been studying advances in Victorian surgery, and also in medicine in general. Edinburgh, especially in the 19th century, was a world leader in many facets of academia, medicine being one of the disciplines that flourished above all. Among the influential names that we have been studying are James Young Simpson, the pioneer of chloroform as an anesthetic, and Joseph Lister, the surgeon that first used carbolic acid as an antiseptic. Both of these men worked in Edinburgh during important stages of their lives, and while we were there we learned a great deal about both of them.

Our class visited both the Royal College of Surgeons and the Royal College of Physicians while we were in Edinburgh. We had guided tours of both colleges, and at both, jokes were made about rivalries between the two. Traditionally, surgeons were definitely lower on the medicinal totem pole than physicians. For a long time, as anyone who listened to my rap would know, physicians and not surgeons had to go to college to learn about medicine. But as advances in surgery were made, such as the introductions of anesthetics and antisepsis, the power balance (to make it sound more epic) between surgeons and physicians started to equalize. For this reason, and because physicians wanted to retain their superior status as surgeons were making a name for themselves, there used to be a bit of tension between the two professions, and between the two colleges. Now, however, it’s referenced as more of a joke.

There was an interesting comparison to be made between the two colleges. At the Royal College of Surgeons, the observables were all objects, be them surgical instruments, skeletal components, or jars containing various internal organs. At the Royal College of Physicians, the observables were massive collections of books written by influential characters at different times throughout history. While the Royal College of Surgeons had a collection of twisted spinal columns that illustrated a certain medical condition, the Royal College of Physicians had fist edition copies of some of Isaac Newton’s first works. This sort of illustrated the difference between surgeons and physicians in the 18th and 19th centuries: Surgeons were doers, physicians were thinkers. It seemed like surgery was more about practice, while being a physician was more about academia. Though surgeons eventually put a greater stress on education, straying away from mere apprenticeship and entering the classroom, physicians still retained their tradition of superior academic endeavor. I do, however, believe that surgeons in the 19th century started to gain an edge on the other medical professionals in practical application. They slowly increased their repertoires to include more than just amputation, broke with the barbers, and started fighting infection and fixing ailments. Surgeons were able to actually do something for their patients, while physicians, though they were beginning to concern themselves more with what was going on inside the body and not just what came out of it, still lagged behind. Perhaps, when we venture more into germ theory, we will see whether surgeons ever surpassed physicians as the dominant medical professional.

I especially liked touring the Royal College of Physicians, partly because the building was beautiful, and partly because our guide was extremely interesting. I think the college made such an impression on me, I might devote a separate blog just to talking about what I learned there, and some of the corky things that were either found or brought up by our guide. So I’ll sign off now and follow up with that later. Later.

Sewers, Standards, and a little Venting

First thought when we arrived at the Crossness pumping station: Gross.
Second thought: Isn’t this supposed to be an inactive sewage center?
Third thought: Irrelevant, smell’s still there either way.

Once we crossed the barrier into “discontinued sewage center territory,” we were all hit by the “historical aroma” that inspired the above impressions. It got better though, especially once we entered the actual buildings of the pumping station and the smell subsided. Overall the excursion was informative; we were shown a brief slideshow about the station’s history, and the history surrounding the decision to construct it. We covered the great stink, which occurred during a period when the smell emanating from the muddy, sewage-covered banks of the River Thames became so intense that Parliament had to hang lime-soaked curtains in the House of Commons to try to block out the smell. They quickly decided on a sanitation initiative, though it took 7 years to get Crossness up and running after the start of that initiative; must have been an unfortunate waiting period. But it was eventually constructed, and a sewer system was erected thanks to one Joseph Bazalgette. Bazalgette, the chief engineer behind the construction of London’s sewer system, was a focus throughout our tour of Crossness. However, out of all the things we heard about him, I was the most surprised by and impressed with the following realization: After Bazalgette had come up with estimates for how large the sewer tunnels and pipes would have to be in order to deal with London’s sewage output, based on an already conservative estimate of London’s population at the time and of how much sewage that population would create, he decided to construct the pipes with twice the diameter that his estimations had deemed necessary.

Why did this surprise me so much? Well it strikes me as something that would most likely not occur today I guess. The Victorians seemed to uphold a philosophy of “better safe than sorry,” when it came to construction, a philosophy that I completely endorse. They didn’t want to do things half-assed and then have to waste more time and money fixing them later. Our tour guide mentioned that, since the Victorians had a limited knowledge of the different materials that were used in construction, they would often make structures 10 times as strong as they needed to be, just to be on the safe side. So what can we say about Bazalgette’s decision to double his estimates? He made the right call. He made something that worked, something that didn’t require a bunch of costly maintenance and burdensome repairs later on, and something that, well over 100 years later, still works and has been able to accommodate for an increased population and an increased demand on sewage relocation. He figured, as long as he had a job to do, he’d do it right the first time so he wouldn’t have to go back and pay for his mistakes later. What a concept.

Again, why is this impressive? Well it seems to me that we don’t really follow the Victorian philosophy, “better safe than sorry,” these days. It seems like our motto would be something more along the lines of, “better cheap and quick than costly and thorough.” We try to cut every corner, save every dime, and strive for the minimum standard in our projects today. Maybe we’re too competitive, and any little financial edge we can get over our competitors has become super important. Or maybe we’re lazy and have come to expect and accept a crappy job over one that’s well done but might take some planning and resources.

When does our infatuation with minimal standards get us into trouble? Well what kind of trouble would you like to hear about first? The kind that compromises human rights or the kind that upsets your investors? I remember watching a documentary on sweat shops set up by Wall-Mart in China in economy class in high school. Basically, what made them sweat shops was the lack of air circulation in the massive warehouses where the workers worked. The workers would suffer in mock green-houses thick with sweat-based humidity, toiling away for hours and hours in discomfort just because Wall-Mart was too cheap to install fans in their buildings. I remember asking my teacher, “as successful and lucrative as Wall-Mart is, why wouldn’t they cough up the little bit of money that would enable their already exploited workers to work in better comfort?” I mean, for Wall-Mart, it’d cost next to nothing to install a few fans right? You know what my teacher said to me? “Wall-Mart isn’t responsible for that sort of thing. They’re not obligated to provide their workers with better working conditions. And if they don’t need to, why should they? It’d be money spent that wasn’t “necessary.” That’s why Wall-Mart can afford to sell people things at such low prices, because they minimize expenses.”

I don’t shop at Wall-Mart. I also think my teacher’s an ass. He could have said all those things and qualified it with a, “but although Wall-Mart avoids unnecessary spending, I can see where you’re coming from, it seems like the right thing to do to install a few fans in a few buildings when you’re one of the most successful companies in the world and your workers are uncomfortable.” But he didn’t. And more and more, I’m not surprised he didn’t. But sometimes meeting minimum standards and making little savings here or there cause problems that are more conspicuous to the public, and get you into financial trouble to boot. You think BP could have built a better oil line? You think they could have developed a blowout prevention system for their oil well that… you know… worked? If you look up the causes of the now infamous deepwater horizon oil leak, you can find a whole mess of accusations: this wasn’t connected quite right, this control panel was unplugged, the cement casing wasn’t done properly, the proposed design for the well blowout preventer didn’t correspond to the actual prevention system that had been implemented, yada-yada-yada. The technical reasons behind why the most devastating oil leak in history occurred is not as important as the core reason: we have grown too accustomed to half-assery. I’m sure the job that BP did developing its oil well was cheap. I’m sure it was quick. Well guess what? Now it needs to be completely redone, and hundreds of miles of coastline and marine ecosystems have been destroyed. Plus the public and the investors are pissed. Yeah, that one stung a bit, huh? But BP was shooting for minimum standards right? How could this have happened? Well accidents happen, but sometimes we need to draw a distinction between accident and negligence. Sometimes we need to try to do the best job we can, not just the easiest. So when Bazalgette opted to do a good job, maybe even better than was necessary by anyone else’s standards, I say, “Wow, what a concept.”

Rap Continued I Guess

Got the video up. Thanks to Jocelyn for letting me use her mac. There's a fairly conspicuous transition in the middle, since I didn't have the beat looped, so I had to do it in 2 takes. Other than that, yeah, enjoy, and always remember protective eye-wear.

Rap to be continued...

So I wrote a rap about victorian medicine. Won't look like much; I've spent a bit of time practicing reciting it, I've picked out a beat to go behind it, and I've tried recording myself rapping it, but due to technical difficulties, mostly PC related, my efforts to post a video of my rap in action failed. However, fear not! I will soon solve this problem and find a way to embarrass myself on the net! But in the meantime, here are the lyrics. It won't be easy to follow from a rhythmic standpoint. Only I know the secrets of the flow... But anyway, yeah, this is it. Enjoy, or enjoy it later once I post my video anyway.

Told to mind the gap,
Thought I’d write a rap,
Starting on the train, knowledge in the brain,
Drawing from the lessons of this place that we came
London’s the name
Victoria’s era’s worth studyin’, world’ll never be the same
-that’s right, Changes in medicine, treatments getting’ better and better and
But you’d better listen, you know you
Gotta start somewhere gotta analyze the places we’ve been,
Let’s step back and begin.

Pondering the professions of men,
Surgeons, Physicians, Apothecaries all of them, getting by in
Different ways, their levels of praise unequal for the
Different ways they’re spending their days
In training

Physicians get to walk around and rep a gold cane, surgeons
Settle for silver, chemists get iron, so lame,
Apothecaries mixing medicine physicians prescribe
Never allowed to mix their own stuff, request denied surgeons have tried,
To gain legitimacy perfecting their craft
Not so easy though till Hunter put them on the map
Advanced anatomy,
Dissecting she and he, Resurrection men
Make sure he’s never without a body.

Perfected new techniques,
Brought surgery to new peaks,
But what was surgery like before Hunter plugged up the leaks?
We know it wasn’t great but let’s go ahead and investigate, it may make us
Irate but let’s travel back to a later date.

Surgeons learning from apprenticeship, here’s a helpful tip, get on
The ground; hold the bucket while the blood drips.
That cut looks deep and raw, so I’ll pull out my saw, don’t worry
I’ll put this leather in your mouth, feel free to gnaw. Sorry
I don’t have a way to help you deal with pain but
I assure you once that leg’s gone it won’t ever hurt again
So I’ll lay out your options, I’m quite good at blood letting,
I’ve got leeches too but that’s it so bite down, the sun’s setting.

Yeah, so that’s what it was like to be a cutter
But wait one minute, haven’t said enough about the other pro-
fessional healer if it can be so called
If you’re well-to-do then bet you pence I’ll be on call
Talking bout the Physician, higher in society, said he could
Figure out your ailment if you paid his fee, but
Whatever it is don’t fret,
Bed-rest could help you yet
Drink lots of fluids vacation may be your best bet

Physicians got a buffer
Less bloody than the other
They go to university they aint no common sucker
But what they doing once they’re done with university?
They drinking pee, came from me, sip it down pretend it’s tea
But then get right back to me, I’m paying for your degree,
I’m wealthy, what’s the matter with me, what did my taste concede?
Here’s my fee, go ahead and make me healthy,
Hopefully your expertise’ll find a way to cure me.

But back then things like germs weren’t even understood,
Treatments were limited; they often did no good, took a
While to realize wasn’t smell at all, that was
Causing your diseases, culprit was too small,
So I’ll stop things here but listen,
Follow the medicinal road signs,
Start looking into organ systems,
Do that and you should be just fine- Done