argument for evolution, Darwin had to steer a fine
line to show not only that species lacked an unchang-
ing essence or, equivalently, hard-and-fast criteria for
the species rank, but also that the term ‘species’ still
meant something in the new, evolutionary sense
needed to discuss their evolution.
The problem that leads to the Darwin’s mistaken-
ness claim is that many people, even today, and even
some philosophers of science, feel that we need strict
definitions for science to advance. You, the reader,
may agree with the idea that strict definitions in
science are necessary to make progress. I am not
trying to say that this is in some way completely
wrong (even though I do not personally believe it), but
I do want to sow the seeds of doubt in your mind, and
to point out that the idea that science does not require
watertight definitions is a perfectly respectable view-
point. Philosophers who write now about species often
disagree, but many are rather negative about the
need for hard-and-fast definitions (Wilson, 1999). We
can find examples even at around the time of Mayr’s
first book (Popper, 1945: 19):
‘In science, we take care that the statements we make should
never depend on the meaning of our terms. Even where the
terms are defined, we never try to derive any information from
the definition, or to base any argument upon it. . . . This is
how we avoid quarrelling about words. The view that the
precision of science and of scientific language depends on the
precision of its terms is certainly very plausible, but it is none
the less, I believe, a mere prejudice . . .’
The reason that definitions are relatively unimpor-
tant, Popper explains, is that scientific theories do not
flow from concepts and definitions, as might naively
be believed. Instead, completely new definitions and
concepts flow from scientific theories. Definitions and
concepts should be made the servants of the theories
and facts; otherwise, one risks impoverishing and
restricting scientific progress by a too-restrictive defi-
nition. This was exactly the problem Darwin encoun-
tered with species; the facts told him that something
was wrong with a non-evolutionary theory of life, he
developed a theory of evolution to explain those facts,
and so had to change the definition of species to fit the
new theory. He could not have developed the same
theories with the rigid, creationist definition used
hitherto.
Having painted the backdrop, what was Darwin’s
new view of species, and was it coherent and fit for
purpose? He made the argument that more or less
everyone knew what a species was, namely that they
were divergent forms between which one found mor-
phological gaps in nature; members of the same
species, in contrast, were connected by intermediates.
However, with this definition, there were always
going to be difficulties in deciding whether particular
forms were species or varieties:
‘Practically, when a naturalist can unite two forms together by
others having intermediate characters, he treats the one as a
variety of the other, ranking the most common, but sometimes
the one first described, as the species, and the other as the
variety. But cases of great difficulty, which I will not here
enumerate, sometimes occur in deciding whether or not to
rank one form as a variety of another . . . Hence, in determin-
ing whether a form should be ranked as a species or a variety,
the opinion of naturalists having sound judgement and wide
experience seems the only guide to follow.’ (p. 47, in Chapter
II, ‘Variation under Nature’)
Mayr (1982: 267) cites this section, but omits the
entire passage, up to and including ‘Hence’, starting it
‘In determining . . .’. By getting rid of the morphologi-
cal gaps argument, Mayr changes the apparent intent
of the above section from a carefully reasoned discus-
sion into an apparently completely arbitrary species
concept depending on experts.
To avoid promulgating the idea that evolutionary
species are going to be clearly demarcated by a new,
hard and fast definition, Darwin argues that he is
what Popper and others today call a ‘nominalist’.
‘. . . it will be seen that I look upon the term species, as one
arbitrarily given for the sake of convenience to a set of
individuals closely resembling each other, and that it does not
essentially differ from the term variety, which is given to less
distinct and more fluctuating forms.’ (p. 52)
Species are distinct; varieties are not; but species and
varieties are nonetheless very much the same kinds
of things. One may not agree with Darwin’s defini-
tions, but he has, it seems to me, defined clearly what
he is going to discuss.
Darwin then shows that there is a correlation
among genera between the numbers of varieties
within species and species diversity within that
genus. Here is evidence for his belief that species
within genera and varieties within species obey the
same laws, and are the same kinds of things, adding
further support that his nominalist view of species
and varieties makes sense.
‘Similarly, if species are only strongly-marked or well-defined
varieties, we expect that species of larger genera should have
greater intraspecific variability. This is not expected if each
species is a special act of creation. . . . I have tested this using
plants of 12 countries, and Coleoptera of two districts. Invari-
ably, a larger proportion of the species in larger genera
present varieties, and there are a larger number of varieties
per species on average, than do the species in smaller genera.’
(p. 55)
Darwin then sums up his definition of species.
Varieties are the same kinds of things as species,
6
J. MALLET
© The Author
Journal compilation © 2008 The Linnean Society of London, Biological Journal of the Linnean Society, 2008, 95, 3–16