Answering the Needham Question with Neuroscience
Does Iain McGlichrists's work on the brain's hemispheres explain why the Scientific Revolution didn't happen first in China? A guest post by Heidi Berg
Interest in Chinese innovation and technology has returned to levels comparable to those of the pre-COVID era. New EVs, batteries, perovskite solar panels, and the “DeepSeek moment” have fueled the demand for “China Tech Tours” among Western executives. They come to experience the shiny and fancy, and to gain some understanding of how Chinese technology development differs from “The West”. They are indeed not the first to seek such insights. The Jesuit missionaries arriving in the 16th century brought new knowledge to China, but they also spent much of their time understanding local technologies. However, the one person who stands out related to this interest is Dr. Joseph Needham (1900-1995), who in 1969 phrased the question that now bears his name.1 The so-called Needham Question, in his own words, was this: “the essential problem [is] why modern science had not developed in Chinese civilization but only in Europe.”
Medieval China was undoubtedly technologically advanced, with the Tang and Song dynasties (618-1279) particularly notable for their advancements on multiple fronts. As the organizers of the 2008 Beijing Olympics opening ceremony were eager to make clear, critically important inventions such as paper, printing, gunpowder, and the compass were developed in ancient China.
But despite all the advancements, traditional Chinese civilization never developed modern science. The Scientific Revolution took place in Europe, hundreds of years later than the highly innovative periods in China. This is the background for Needham’s central question. His work on Science and Civilization in China, a project to catalogue technologies developed in China, is still ongoing at the Needham Archive at Cambridge University 30 years after his death.
Needham’s main hypothesis for an answer is related to religion: “There was no confidence that the codes of nature could be read because there was no assurance that a divine being had formulated a code capable of being read.” Others have discussed reasons related to the geography of China, or its governance system, or its incentive structures. Albert Einstein pointed to “the lack of formal logical system (in Euclidean geometry) and the practice of scientific experiments.” In a paper form 2023, Lui Lam at San Jose University builds on Einstein in his answer: “The ancient Chinese had picked the complex system of humans to study while breakthroughs in Western modern science happened in the study of simple systems.”
I believe a new answer to the Needham question can be found through the work of Dr. Iain McGilchrist. McGilchrist is a renowned neuroscientist, now turned philosopher, who practiced psychiatry for 35 years, working at institutions such as the Bethlem Royal Hospital and Johns Hopkins University. In his book The Master and His Emissary: The Divided Brain and the Making of the Western World, he combines his deep knowledge of neuroscience with a grounding in the humanities and history to discuss the development of European cultures from the ancient Greeks to today.
The book is more than 460 pages long, and the following summary is well documented through scientific studies (there are about 100 pages of notes and academic references in the book). McGilchrist’s starting point is the fact that all animals have two distinct brain hemispheres, with the clear purpose of ensuring two very different capacities: Focusing on the thing we need to grab (e.g., the food) and paying attention to our surroundings (e.g., so that we do not become someone else’s food). The only way to let us do both simultaneously is to have one part of the brain in charge of each. Put simply, the first — narrowly focused on grabbing — is controlled by the left hemisphere, while the second — big picture, watching out for new things on the horizon— is controlled by the right. The differences can be observed in stroke patients: Those with a left hemisphere stroke (for whom only the right hemisphere works properly) often lose the ability to read letters and deal with numbers, both narrow focus tasks, while a right hemisphere stroke can make it impossible to comprehend complex concepts such as empathy and metaphors. Recent technology enables researchers to “turn off” one side of the brain, and these experiments confirm the specialized functions.
The two hemispheres work together in highly complex ways, but individuals are ordinarily “dominated” by one hemisphere’s approach to the world. A simplified example is that people with a dominant left hemisphere are typically attracted to money and structure (owning and controlling), while those with a right-hemisphere worldview are more inclined towards the arts and nature (enjoying the broad picture and being part of something). Which hemisphere is dominant is not genetically determined: both are accessible to all neurological “normal” individuals. (McGilchrist even likens it to two radio channels you can chose between).
There will be a mix of “left and right hemisphere thinkers” in every culture, but often an overweight of one dominant worldview within a group. McGilchrist discusses this by looking at European history: Starting from the ancient Greeks, he argues that there have been several notable shifts in the power-balance between the left and the right hemispheres, impacting culture and societies in Europe. In his view, the right hemisphere was dominant in early ancient Greece (hence the rich arts and culture), while the military strong and vast Roman empire correlated with a left hemisphere dominance. The Renaissance was the next period when a right hemisphere understanding of the world dominated, again leading to an extremely culturally rich period.
What is the connection between the divided brain and the Needham question? Already in the title of the book, The Master and his Emissary: The Making of the Western World, there is a hint at a difference between the “Western World” and other cultures. McGilchrist provides numerous examples of the right hemisphere's strong position in East Asian cultures. He mentions examples such as Taoism and Japanese kintsugi pottery, which he argues can only be understood by the right hemisphere: The first principle of Taoism is “The Tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao” — a contradiction the left hemisphere cannot understand. Kintsugi pottery is valued for imperfections, while the left hemisphere seeks symmetry and perfection. Further, the right hemisphere is the more pragmatic of the two. This might at first not be intuitive but relates to the “real life” perspective of the right hemisphere compared to the “in theory” approach of the left (here the famous Chinese quotes ‘crossing the river by feeling the stones’ and ‘it doesn’t matter if the cat is black or white’ come to mind).
McGilchrist takes us directly towards the Needham Question when he discusses the scientific revolution as a child of left hemisphere dominance, precisely for its affinity for theory: A reductionist approach was necessary to establish and work with the scientific and philosophical principles introduced by Newton, Descartes and others. Only the left hemisphere will approach the world as a collection of elements or a machine and try to derive concepts such as “laws of nature.” In his concluding chapter, McGilchrist references Needham’s observations to emphasize the different tendencies in Western and Eastern uses of the brain. Where East Asian cultures tend to use strategies of both hemispheres more evenly, he says, modern Western approaches are steeply skewed towards the left hemisphere. Hence, the work by McGilchrist suggests the following answer to the Needham question: ‘Chinese civilization never developed modern science because there was not a time period in China when the left hemisphere of the brain dominated thinking and society’. This answer implies that the hypotheses of Einstein, Lam, and Needham himself are in fact all valid: The right hemisphere is neither attracted to a cosmology with a one creator and “a code to be read” (Needham’s main point), nor to a structured formal logical system (Einstein’s point). Finally, the right hemisphere cares more about people and complex systems compared to the left (Lam’s hypothesis).
Is the Needham Question relevant for a Western executive on a “tech tour” to China in 2025? Scholars of history and science in China have moved beyond simplistic views of Chinese civilization and the people, as well as the narrow focus on the European scientific revolution as a point of departure. But the question is in itself a reminder of the long history of interest in the different approaches to problem solving and innovation. McGilchrist’s work offers new perspectives to what we often end up referring to as “cultural differences”. If, in fact, Western “tech tour” participants rely more on the left hemisphere in their understanding of the world, an explanation found in neuroscience should also be appealing to them. Further, the divided brain theory introduces some interesting perspectives related to AI: Simplistically said, artificial intelligence is based on a left-hemisphere worldview as it depends on algorithms (i.e. it can reference all the writings existing about the Tao, but it will never understand the eternal Tao). Maybe a culture where the right hemisphere stands stronger is better positioned to work alongside the left hemisphere-based AI? The Needham question itself does not demand a long lecture during the “tech tour.” But one might well consider adding some neuroscience to the agenda.
Heidi Berg is leading the work at the Danish Confederation of Industries’ China office related to ESG and sustainability services for Danish member companies and local partners. She has worked with projects related to sustainability and ESG over the last fifteen years, both in Europe, Africa, South Asia, and China. Her experience includes investment projects in renewable energy and sustainable agriculture, financial inclusion, the textile industry, and low-emission real estate. She is a recognized keynote speaker, educator, and discussion facilitator. She holds a master’s degree in international management with a specialization in finance.
Formulated in J. Needham, The Grand Titration: Science and Society in East and West, 1969
"the essential problem [is] why modern science had not developed in Chinese civilization but only in Europe."
I honestly don't buy neuroscience-based explanations, unfortunately. To make them stick, you have to assume people are inherently different. Given China's transcendence in science at the moment, while the US is busy immolating its own scientific infrastructure, adds strong support to the notion that there's no difference between Chinese and Americans en masse, but that politics plays a critical role.
But there is a deeper question: why wasn't there a Song industrial revolution, or a Ming industrial revolution? Why did western Europe only surpass China around 1800? An abstract "dictatorial politics" only goes so far, because Europe was full of kings and emperors too. By 1800 though, Europe had a critical advantage: not manpower, but all the resources being looted from the New World. China could, I suppose, have looted...Australia, but that wouldn't have added noticeably to manpower, new crops, precious metals, plantation land, slaves, or all the rest.
Why didn't China didn't reach the Americas before the Europeans? Basically it's because it's really hard to sail east across the Pacific, but really easy to sail west. Yes, the Polynesians made it to South America, but it took them about 1,000 years of settling really tiny islands to do so. The first Europeans sailing out into the Pacific got a cheat from the trade winds that took them to Asia. It took them awhile to figure out how to get back, along with a safe port (Acapulco) for the Manila galleons. So Chinese explorers would have had to spend decades figuring out how to get across the Pacific with no evidence that there was anything out there worth the trouble. Columbus, at least, knew east Asia existed.
But that's not all of it. Why no Song or Ming industrial revolution with indigenous Chinese resources. It certainly looks like China had, within its borders, all the resources for an industrial revolution. Why didn't they? I'd suggest that China has two or three sorts of nomad problems. One is that both the Song and the Ming dynasties fell to nomads coming in off the steppes. That's not a problem WESTERN Europe ever faced, although EASTERN Europe and Russia certainly suffered enormously with nomad invasions. As the US is learning now, hostile takeovers by nomadic overlords with some technological superiority doesn't seem to be good for an innovation economy.
The second nomadic problem for China is that malcontents and innovators, such as the fabled Taoist sages who created gunpowder, had mountains they could disappear into, something Europe didn't have. These include, of course, the eastern Himalaya, Kunlun Mountains, and all of montane southeast Asia, as detailed in Scott's *The Art of Not Being Governed: An Anarchist History of Upland Southeast Asia*. Basically, people who wanted to get away from China imperial politics at any level could go out onto the steppes and join the nomads, go north into the taiga (a few did) to hunt ginseng and tigers, go south and west and end up in the mountains as hermits or "barbarian tribal folk", or go south on the coast and end up in southeast Asia as merchantss. And if they left, the Chinese had little luck getting them back.
Having the world's most rugged mountains, greatest plain, and biggest forest to escape into was a release valve that western Europe simply didn't have. The problem was that Chinese expats often couldn't take their lab with them. If they headed for the mountains, it was for a life as a subsistence farmer or hermit. This might have favored the development of body and mind skills, because they required little equipment.
Fortunately for some crazy geniuses, western Europe was full of little kingdoms fighting each other, so a scientist or artist could quite conceivably find refuge in another country if they became unpopular, and with some luck, they might be able to continue their projects in a place more favorable to them. Unlike their Chinese counterparts, they had fewer places to go and be free, but they also had the ability to take (or reconstruct) scientific labs, artists' studios, or workshops in their new homes.
Perhaps this answers Needham's question a little?
So I'd suggest that geography played a role. People could leave China