BOOK REVIEW
Out of Gas, Compass, Consciousness and more...
David Schneider, Christopher Brodie
A book that tackles both the
looming shortage of fossil fuels and the threat of global warming
might be expected to weigh several pounds and cause a great deal of
eyestrain. Not so David Goodstein's Out of Gas (Norton,
$21.95), which spans this territory in a mere 140 pages of easy reading.
Of course, a book of this size cannot delve that deeply when the
discussion comes around to complicated issues—say, those
surrounding nuclear energy or carbon sequestration. But Goodstein
does a fine job of summarizing these topics (and many others)
briefly and clearly for those not familiar with them. His
descriptions are very basic (the book includes, for example, a broad
introduction to thermodynamics), and the explanations are
deliberately kept simple, as you might expect from a physics professor.
What is more, Goodstein's comments about energy and climate are
refreshingly difficult to characterize: One can't predict from which
side of the aisle his next statement will emerge. For example, he
notes that improved solar cells might "make the Saudi Arabian
desert more valuable for the sunlight falling on it than for the oil
buried beneath it." Score one for the environmental movement.
Yet in the same chapter he notes that the failure of the Bush
administration to ratify the Kyoto Protocol "may be just as
well," since "it's too weak to do much good for the
atmosphere," echoing Bjørn Lomborg's The Skeptical Environmentalist.
If you want to examine such assertions in detail, this is not the
book to guide you through that scientific, economic and political
jungle. But if you want to get a look at the whole forest at once,
Goodstein's little book will float you appropriately high above the trees.—D.A.S.
In Compass: A Story of
Exploration and Innovation (Norton, $22.95), yacht designer
and photographer Alan Gurney tells the strange story of a
world–transforming technology that required 700 years to perfect.
From its first appearance in 12th–century China, the marine
magnetic compass proved a stubbornly fickle guide. The fragile
needle could be confused by pounding waves, weakened by gunfire or
betrayed by a ship's own iron. These were hugely important problems:
As late as the 1850s a British ship was lost practically every
day—"the nineteenth–century equivalent,"
Gurney writes, "of jumbo jets falling out of the skies."
Finding solutions to these puzzles fell to a colorful line of
scientists, engineers and sailors, described by Gurney with a
novelist's eye for detail. The brilliant Edmond Halley made two
historic voyages to chart magnetic variation; the enterprising Gowin
Knight hoarded the secret of his artificial magnet machine; and the
almost comically unlucky Matthew Flinders endured disease,
shipwreck, marooning and imprisonment to bring his treasured book of
bearings to the British Admiralty.
Perfecting the instrument ultimately changed trading patterns,
improved the accuracy of maps and charts and gave comfort to
countless sailors on the midnight watch—a testament to the
value of patient refinement.—G.R.
How is it that mere matter can
experience a sad thought, the color blue or the taste of a
cheese–and–pepperoni pizza? Questions of this sort are
central to the scientific explanation of consciousness, which author
Susan Blackmore explores in Consciousness: An Introduction
(Oxford University Press, $39.95, paper). Ostensibly written as a
college text, Blackmore's book turns out to be a page–turner.
It repeatedly evokes unsettling moments of reflection as the reader
is introduced to ideas that bump up against the ceiling of human
understanding. Indeed, as Blackmore explains, "mysterians"
such as the British philosopher Colin McGinn argue that human beings
are "cognitively closed" to the problem: We don't have the
right kind of brain to solve it, just as a dog cannot comprehend a
poem. Others, including the American philosopher Daniel Dennett,
believe that we've misconstrued consciousness itself and that we
must really explain how it comes to seem that there is
actual phenomenology. According to Dennett, there is no
"Cartesian theater"—the place where "I" am
inside "my" mind or brain (see cartoon above). Whatever
your preconceived notions of "self," Blackmore's book will
surely get you thinking—wherever and whatever "you"
may be.—M.S.
A newly revised edition of
The Birdwatcher's Companion to North American Birdlife
(Princeton University Press, $39.50), by ornithologist Christopher
W. Leahy, provides a thousand–page A–to–Z guide to
all things avian. Leahy clearly loves birds, and this affectionate
yet scholarly work offers everything from terse definitions and
simple descriptions to thoughtful and authoritative essays that can
occupy several pages. Among the expected entries—such as
birdwatching, conservation, endangered
species and migration—we also find three pages
about edibility, where the reader will learn of a
19th–century Boston restaurant that served up a thousand
hummingbirds "in Walnut Shells" every night! Further
treasures can be found under nouns of assemblage, which
provides alternatives to the prosaic "flock of birds,"
including poetic couplings such as an "ostentation of
peacocks," a "murder of crows" and a "pitying of doves."
In addition to the alphabetic entries, there are also six
appendices, including a checklist of North American birds, a
classification of extinct birds and a birdwatcher's calendar. An
extremely useful bibliography that lists sources according to
subject caps off the volume. There is much here that will engage
every level of birder. Above: A chick in its egg, from the entry
under embryo.—M.S.
Nicholas P. Money broke the
mold of traditional mycology guides with his critically acclaimed
essay collection Mr. Bloomfield's Orchard. In his latest
book, Carpet Monsters and Killer Spores (Oxford, $24.95),
the British–born botanist brings some much–needed common
sense to homeowners' concerns about fungal threats to property and
peace of mind.
Health risks associated with household mold are yet to be
determined, but recent side effects are unmistakable: media
frenzies, multimillion–dollar lawsuits, headaches for
insurance companies and high–priced offers to assess and
remove the offending spores with unproven techniques.
Money's empathy, objectivity and quick wit make this book a welcome
contribution to a contentious debate in which some of the scientific
evidence is sketchy. But "a deep knowledge of fungi is
unnecessary," Money says, "when a bucket of bleach and a
scrubbing brush may be the most important tools of the trade."
Shown above is the fruiting body of Serpula lacrymans, a
fungus that causes dry rot in the wood of European, Japanese and
Australian homes.—F.D.
Between Antarctica and Cape
Horn lie 600 miles of the world's stormiest seas. The southernmost
point of South America, the small island of Cape Horn and
surrounding waters have long represented the ultimate challenge to
seamanship. Enormous waves, sudden squalls and treacherous shores
have claimed the lives of hundreds of those intrepid, foolish or
desperate enough to venture into the Southern Ocean. In Rounding
the Horn: Being the Story of Williwaws and Windjammers, Drake,
Darwin, Murdered Missionaries and Naked Natives—A Deck's
Eye View of Cape Horn (Basic Books, $25.95), Dallas Murphy
recounts the Cape's gruesome history and explains the science behind
its fierce weather, while also telling the story of his own trip
around the Horn. Along the way, we meet explorers such as Francis
Drake (who discovered the passage in 1578), scientists such as
Charles Darwin, and victims of European wanderlust such as the
Yahgan, a primitive, nomadic people who survived the rough climes of
Cape Horn for centuries only to be quickly decimated by Old World
diseases in the 19th century. Rounding the Horn illustrates
the often close ties between science and adventure, and makes for a
read both exciting and edifying.—A.E.
The suburbs, as you've
probably heard by now, are a mixed blessing. Yes, the houses are
cheaper, and each is likely to have its own patch of turf out back.
Yes, suburbanites often enjoy less noise than city residents and
more access to shopping than rural folk. But there are costs. By
their nature, suburbs are inefficient—they waste land, require
expensive infrastructure, geographically separate houses from
workplaces and stores, and foster a sense of isolation from the
neighbors. Worst of all, they force residents to climb into their
cars for even the simplest daily errands.
Dan Chiras and Dave Wann suggest answers to these problems in
Superbia! (New Society Publishers, $19.95). This guide,
subtitled 31 Ways to Create Sustainable Neighborhoods,
advocates a grassroots path to a retrofitted, new–urbanist
ideal of compact, mixed–use developments. Chiras and Wann give
a list of steps for adapting suburban neighborhoods, warts and all,
into closer, less wasteful and more environmentally friendly
communities. The proposals include one–time staples of
small–town life, such as holding potluck dinners, as well as
more audacious suggestions—buying a van or truck for shared
use, setting up a community–shared office, or creating a
community energy system that uses solar panels or wind turbines. If
you've ever looked over your suburban fence into a neighborhood of
quarter–acre fiefdoms and longed for something different, this
book may be for you.—C.B.