THE RELATIVITY OF WRONG

The 24th collection of Asimov's essays, these culled from recent monthly columns in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. The essays are grouped into three parts: "Isotopes and Elements"; "The Solar System"; and "Beyond the Solar System." Expect lots of chemistry and chemical history in Part I, including personal bits about Asimov's tiff with Harold Urey, who was not willing to admit someone who had not taken physical chemistry into Columbia's graduate chemistry program and made it very tough indeed. Here find essays on naturally radioactive substances and artificial radiation; the charms and dangers of carbon 14 in the body ("The Enemy Within"): and discourses on sulfur, phosphorus, and early matches, ending with an essay on the importance of phosphorus as the energy store of cells and as the calcium phosphate of bone. Asimov's fascination with size, distance, brightness, and other measurables is a familiar refrain seen in essays like "The Incredible Shrinking Planet." This is a neat exercise in logic and discovery that finally establishes Pluto as a small and icy "mesoplanet" (A's coinage for a planet between major and minor), accompanied by an even smaller moon, Charon. Or in an essay on novas, which led to a controversy over whether the Andromeda nebula, in which a nova had been spotted, was a far distant "island universe" or a nearby solar system in the making. Revelation comes in a succeeding essay on super-exploding stars: the star in Andromeda was a supernova 2.3 million light years away in the Andromeda galaxy. Concluding essays deal with matter and antimatter, star voyages, and, finally, the title piece, in which Asimov knocks the idea that right and wrong are absolutes. The point is that some things are wronger (or righter) than other things and we all got off on the wrong foot with the spelling, arithmetic drills, and short-answer tests of grade school. "Good" scientific concepts get refined over time, that's all. And written about by upbeat, postive-thinking, righter-than-most Asimov.

Pub Date: April 29, 1988

ISBN: 1575660083

Page Count: -

Publisher: Doubleday

Review Posted Online: Sept. 16, 2011

Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 15, 1988

Did you like this book?

No Comments Yet

Loads of good explaining, with reminders, time and again, of how much remains unknown, neatly putting the death of science...

A SHORT HISTORY OF NEARLY EVERYTHING

Bryson (I'm a Stranger Here Myself, 1999, etc.), a man who knows how to track down an explanation and make it confess, asks the hard questions of science—e.g., how did things get to be the way they are?—and, when possible, provides answers.

As he once went about making English intelligible, Bryson now attempts the same with the great moments of science, both the ideas themselves and their genesis, to resounding success. Piqued by his own ignorance on these matters, he’s egged on even more so by the people who’ve figured out—or think they’ve figured out—such things as what is in the center of the Earth. So he goes exploring, in the library and in company with scientists at work today, to get a grip on a range of topics from subatomic particles to cosmology. The aim is to deliver reports on these subjects in terms anyone can understand, and for the most part, it works. The most difficult is the nonintuitive material—time as part of space, say, or proteins inventing themselves spontaneously, without direction—and the quantum leaps unusual minds have made: as J.B.S. Haldane once put it, “The universe is not only queerer than we suppose; it is queerer than we can suppose.” Mostly, though, Bryson renders clear the evolution of continental drift, atomic structure, singularity, the extinction of the dinosaur, and a mighty host of other subjects in self-contained chapters that can be taken at a bite, rather than read wholesale. He delivers the human-interest angle on the scientists, and he keeps the reader laughing and willing to forge ahead, even over their heads: the human body, for instance, harboring enough energy “to explode with the force of thirty very large hydrogen bombs, assuming you knew how to liberate it and really wished to make a point.”

Loads of good explaining, with reminders, time and again, of how much remains unknown, neatly putting the death of science into perspective.

Pub Date: May 6, 2003

ISBN: 0-7679-0817-1

Page Count: 304

Publisher: Broadway

Review Posted Online: May 20, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: April 1, 2003

Did you like this book?

No Comments Yet

Ackerman writes with a light but assured touch, her prose rich in fact but economical in delivering it. Fans of birds in all...

THE GENIUS OF BIRDS

Science writer Ackerman (Ah-Choo!: The Uncommon Life of Your Common Cold, 2010, etc.) looks at the new science surrounding avian intelligence.

The takeaway: calling someone a birdbrain is a compliment. And in any event, as Ackerman observes early on, “intelligence is a slippery concept, even in our own species, tricky to define and tricky to measure.” Is a bird that uses a rock to break open a clamshell the mental equivalent of a tool-using primate? Perhaps that’s the wrong question, for birds are so unlike humans that “it’s difficult for us to fully appreciate their mental capabilities,” given that they’re really just small, feathered dinosaurs who inhabit a wholly different world from our once-arboreal and now terrestrial one. Crows and other corvids have gotten all the good publicity related to bird intelligence in recent years, but Ackerman, who does allow that some birds are brighter than others, points favorably to the much-despised pigeon as an animal that “can remember hundreds of different objects for long periods of time, discriminate between different painting styles, and figure out where it’s going, even when displaced from familiar territory by hundreds of miles.” Not bad for a critter best known for bespattering statues in public parks. Ackerman travels far afield to places such as Barbados and New Caledonia to study such matters as memory, communication, and decision-making, the last largely based on visual cues—though, as she notes, birds also draw ably on other senses, including smell, which in turn opens up insight onto “a weird evolutionary paradox that scientists have puzzled over for more than a decade”—a matter of the geometry of, yes, the bird brain.

Ackerman writes with a light but assured touch, her prose rich in fact but economical in delivering it. Fans of birds in all their diversity will want to read this one.

Pub Date: April 12, 2016

ISBN: 978-1-59420-521-7

Page Count: 336

Publisher: Penguin Press

Review Posted Online: Feb. 17, 2016

Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2016

Did you like this book?

No Comments Yet
more