When President Conant gave the annual Terry Lectures in New Haven last May, he provided Yale men with an unprecedented coming-attractions view of a new Harvard course. Based on the Terry Lectures, "On Understanding Science" in form is an argument for a new kind of science course for laymen, a course which President Conant calls "a tremendous extrapolation from any educational experiments of which I am aware."

To teach something of the "tactics and strategy of science" is the aim of the book's proposed course: the suggested method, to do so by using "case histories." In an introductory chapter President Conant develops the concept of the role of science in the non-scientist's education and responsibilities. There is nothing new here. From such diverse sources as the General Education Report and the Smyth Report on Atomic Energy, the growing need for some sort of mass comprehension of science has been iterated and reiterated. When President Conant concludes that the layman can best understand science through its tactics and strategy, rather than by means of "even the basic principles or simplest facts," he moves closer to uncharted territory. This approach, President Conant believes, will show the walls and moats around any advance in science, how these hazards can delay scientific progress for as much as 150 years, and the various ways by which they can be overcome. In other words, "On Understanding Science" is, as the title-page asserts, "an historical approach"--an undeveloped, but hardly a revolutionary concept.

This is where case histories come in, and where the book takes off into new realms. President Conant proposes to take certain cases, such as Robert Boyle's experiments with the air pump or the completely fallacious and stubbornly maintained theory of phlogiston, and illustrate through them the principles of the tactics and strategy of science. As opposed to a broad historical survey, this method offers the advantages of simplicity and totality to the student, and that of greater selectivity to the instructor. The main part of the book consists of illustrations of case histories and the method of drawing deductions from them.

Whether or not such a course will work out well must remain a meet point. The lack of easily accessible material to choose from stands as one objection, and many will claim that such a method will create an even more spotty knowledge and understanding than would a survey course. President Conant himself warns that he "may be peddling a rope of sand."

As a book, "On Understanding Science" is admirably concise and clear, and even a complete scientific ignoramus can come very close to understanding all the technical material it contains. This simplicity is the outstanding literary value of "On Understanding Science." Combined with the book's provocative argument, it makes the initial combination of Conant the educator with Conant the scientist a work of considerably wider popular interest than the majority of its ilk.