MotF 58: Natural Philosophies

The blurb...

1331. Somewhere in the Yunnan province, a medieval Chinese farmer notices a faint tickle on his left leg. He looks down and brushes off the flea before it can bite him.

On the other end of the great Eurasian landmass, the High Middle Ages are in full swing. Universities are springing up like mushrooms after rain, and scholars like Jean Buridan are examining and questioning the Aristotelean worldview that has held sway for centuries. In this world, the budding scientific revolution will not be cut short by the Black Death--instead it will come to full flower, some two centuries before that of our world. By the late 14th century, Buridan and his pupils have compiled the laws of motion, while later thinkers expand the borders of math and science in many directions--building on the works of the Calculators of Merton as well as translations of Arabic works on algebra, the calculus is developed. Others turn their talents to astronomy, chemistry, biology, and their work is shared across the continent by a marvelous new device--the printing press.

To an observer from our world, one of the most extraordinary elements of this "scholastic insurgence" (as this world knows it) is its relationship with the Catholic church, which (without the social upheaval of the Black Death) proves itself, in general, to be willing to foster and adapt to these new ideas. Many of these new scientists are also churchmen and theologians as well. This world sees no Reformation or Counter-Reformation, and while from time to time there is political disunity in the Catholic world, there is no theological disunity--across the continent, thinkers remain connected by the bonds of reason, logic, and faith.

There have been setbacks too, naturally--plagues remained frequent occurrences until sanitation improved and the germ theory of disease was developed. Of course this was too late for the inhabitants of the Americas, but overall they still fared better than in our world. The New World was discovered by powers more interested in trade than conquest--the exception being Mexico, where military orders were established to stamp out human sacrifice. An Incan empire survives to this day, though considerably Christianized, as do a few other native states on both continents.

Despite the head start in science, this world is not outrageously far ahead of us in technology--the industrial revolution did not develop as quickly as the scientific one, and there is a rather Hellenic attitude, especially in Europe, that scientific learning is worthwhile for its own sake and that applying it to the real world is slightly vulgar. (Several rising powers, in Asia and elsewhere, have no such qualms--something that is starting to alarm political leaders.) The continued relationship with the church is rather interesting--an article titled "The implications of quantum superposition for the doctrine of transubstantiation" would raise few eyebrows in this world's academic journals, and this world's equivalent of the Hubble Space Telescope has permanent staff of monks.

And the map...

The map is rather bland, but I hope the scenario makes up for it. (It's implausible to the highest degree, but it was immensely fun to consider.)

The Pacific Northwest was not a particularly difficult place to live, by the standards of the various tribes that made their homes there. Salmon and game was plentiful, agriculture was far from difficult- tubers and roots of various kinds, including potatoes, were both grown and gathered, not to mention the vast quantities of fruits and berries.

All this ease of living left plenty of time for leisure, and leisure, for Little Raven, was thought. He worked out figures and facts in his head, and occasionally using a piece of charcoal on bark flakes, rocks, or old, thrown out animal skins- whatever he could get his hands on.

He noticed things- he noticed how boiling water produced hot steam, and he noticed how this steam could turn flywheel. He noticed how certain substances would burn in the campfires, how others wouldn't, and how some would violently react. He noticed that forcing running water into a small tube made it run faster. He noticed how strong wind felt rather like water- both fluid. His elders looked down on him, thinking he could find better ways to spend his time, but Little Raven persisted, constantly wondering how he could use his understanding to help his tribe.

He even noticed how boiling certain leaves would bring their flavours into the water around them- and after a few tries, found some that tasted particularly delightful. This was the innovation that finally won over the rest of the tribe- and it spread quickly to whichever tribes they came into contact with. (Incidentally, the rise in boiled-leaf-water consumption was matched with a decrease in several types of sickness- boiling the water, of course, purified it.)

Then, one day, he saw someone's furs fly in the wind, and the idea struck. He could harness the wind!

He borrowed a child's toy with wheels, and attached a skin to it, and released it. It immediately began racing off, following the wind. Little Raven decided he would try to scale it up.

With a bit of help from some of his friends, Little Raven built a large-scale version of the toy, and strung upon it a deerskin, and waited for the wind.



From this, over the next two hundred years or so, people worked- relative to Europe- backwards to dog-pulled wagons, chariots, and sailing ships, and George Vancouver was pretty shocked when, rather than going out to meet the Indians in his little lifeboat, they sailed out to meet him. Trade across the Indian tribes picked up considerably. The mountains are still rather impassable without significant horse populations, but simply getting large amounts of supplies to the passes is exceedingly useful for cross-mountain trade. Basic sailing techniques- tacking, for instance- were discovered relatively quickly.

Steam engines, too, were built from Little Raven's designs, and while they're still more curiosities than actual projects, several have been put to use in industrial flour grinding.

With all this industriousness, even more time was found for leisure, and maths, sciences, and other studies soon developed to a significant degree compared to OTL- by the time this map is set, ironworking is commonplace in the region, fundamental geometry theory is being worked out, there's a basic understanding of anatomy (based largely on animal studies, with a few quiet autopsies thrown in), animal skin and bark have largely been replaced by paper-like materials (another use of those prototypical steam engines; many an experiment was undertaken before that developed, but once it did, it took off very quickly), though charcoal was still the primary writing tool until after several exploring expeditions showed up with pens- the Hudson's Bay Company quickly realised that fortunes could be made in the sale of basic office supplies and tools. Basically, it's a society running at about the same level as early-middle-ages Europe, which is well in advance of many of the other early American Indian societies.

A PoD in roughly in the mid 1600s (Peace of Westphalia sort of time) links the crowns of Saxony and Brandenburg. The resulting powerful state ensures (mostly) peace in Germany for over 100 years, giving the major German state time to develop and industrialise. By the mid 1700s they rival the United Kingdom's OTL dominance of scientific and industrial developments, so when the Industrial Revolution kicks in it does so there in a much larger way.

A note: the terms for "rails" and "rail lines" still exist in ATL when referring to a singular section of track, but the term "eisenetwork" is used for the overall system of a rail network or railway (or railroad if you're American or similar). This comes from the German for iron combined with the English network, and is the term used in ATL English due to the German dominance of the early railways.

And the map: