The Oxford English Dictionary dates the origin of the word “scientist” to 1834. It is one of those rare instances when we know exactly when, who, and why the term was coined. I want to share the story of how this happened because it is rather remarkable, and I want to highlight some connections that deserve to be better known.
Mary Fairfax Somerville was a formidable Scottish woman, a true polymath. She was fortunate, as an inheritance gave her the freedom to pursue intellectual interests, travel, and connect with the leading scientific minds of her time. In 1834, she wrote a book titled On the Connection of the Physical Sciences. This book represents the first, and possibly the last, connected view of all science. It was published by John Murray, a London publisher, and became Murray’s best-selling scientific publication for 25 years—until Charles Darwin’s On the Origin of Species came along.
Mary Fairfax Somerville
William Whewell, an extraordinary figure in his own right, wrote a 13-page glowing, if somewhat patronizing, review of Somerville’s book. Whewell was a gifted wordsmith and invented many scientific words now in common use: linguistics, consilience, astigmatism, and even the word “physicist.” He also suggested terms like “electrode,” “ion,” “anode,” and “cathode” to Michael Faraday.
In his review, Whewell could not refer to Somerville as a “man of science,” the common term at the time. He sought a word that would reflect the interdisciplinary nature of Somerville’s expertise. As her book demonstrated, she was more than a mathematician, astronomer, or physicist—she seamlessly blended these areas. Whewell decided to use a word of his own invention: “scientist.”
By the way, Whewell had this word in his back pocket. A year earlier, in 1833, he had invented the term “scientist” in response to a challenge by the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge. This occurred in letters they exchanged, but Whewell first used it in print in his 1834 review of Somerville’s work.
The term was slow to catch on. Many Victorians preferred older expressions such as “natural philosopher,” “naturalist,” or “experimental philosopher.” Darwin, Faraday, and Lord Kelvin refused to use the term to describe themselves. However, “scientist” gained traction in the United States and was only fully accepted in the early 20th century.
Let me mention another connection. Whewell was part of a close-knit group of friends at Cambridge in 1812, which included Charles Babbage—another remarkable figure. Babbage invented two colossal mechanical computing machines, the Difference Engine and the Analytical Engine, the first mechanical general-purpose computer. When I say “colossal,” I mean it literally—the device weighed 15 tons.
It appears that Mary Fairfax Somerville, who moved in Babbage’s circles, introduced him to a young woman named Ada Lovelace, a mathematician and writer. Incidentally, Ada was the daughter of Lord Byron. Lovelace and Babbage made an interesting pair; Babbage was 24 years older than Ada, while Somerville was 35 years older than Ada. Lovelace recognized that Babbage’s design had applications beyond pure calculation, and she is credited with developing an algorithm that would enable the Analytical Engine to function as a calculating machine.
Ada Lovelace
Babbage is often credited as the “father of the computer,” and Lovelace as the “first computer programmer,” though some of these claims are debatable. Nevertheless, it is clear that Mary Somerville served as Ada’s mentor, tutor, and scientific chaperone. Despite being 35 years older, Somerville outlived Ada by 20 years, passing away at the age of 92 in Naples, Italy.
In my book The Nexus, I covered Mary Fairfax Somerville and Ada Lovelace separately. However, here I wanted to show how their stories intersected.