Wednesday, July 09, 2008
One of My Favorite 150 Year Old Books
Olivia Judson writes an interesting piece in today's New York Times about the surprisingly small number of biologists who have read Charles Darwin's On the Origin of Species, regarded by many as the single most important book in the history of science. (Other obvious contenders: Newton's Principia Mathematica, Maxwell's Treatise on Electromagnetism, Galileo's Two New Sciences, Copernicus' On the Revolution of Heavenly Spheres) Judson is correct in noting that to a modern reader, Darwin's approach towards questions of heredity and genetics seems clunky and outdated. And she equally correct that one can efficiently glean the main points of his arguments from modern textbooks without subjecting oneself to lengthy passages on local pigeon breeders.
Nevertheless, as an aspiring historian of science who has actually read the Origin from cover to cover, I can also agree with Judson when she notes that there are moments when Darwin's "prose is clear, lyrical and glorious: as good as anything ever written by anyone." She refers to the discussion of the "humble-bees" and the famous ending passage describing how the brutality of the natural world can be seen as possessing a positive aspect by inspiring the evolution of better evolved species. Personally, I find Darwin most compelling when he is writing in two different areas. First, are those with which he has a strong first-hand familiarity. Darwin's frequent references to pigeon breeding mentioned above, for example, showcase how much time he devoted to understanding artificial selection, controlled by human actors, before attempting to devise a comparable mechanism for the natural world. Even more impressive, I would contend, is his ability to defend his position against all major criticisms at the time. He explains how gaps in the fossil record, the lack of transitional varieties, the claims of intelligent design advocates, the existence of vestigial organs or socially beneficial instincts, etc. can all be fit within a broader evolutionary framework, and does so in a straightforward and well-thought out manner.
Next year marks the 200th anniversary of Darwin's birth and the 150th anniversary of the Origin's publication. Needless to say, it's going to be a big year for historians of science in general and historians of biology in particular. I hope, however, in all the hubbub, that a few actual non-historians, and maybe even a few non-scientists, will try to give Darwin's work a try. It may not be as riveting as a novel by his contemporary, Charles Dickens, but it certainly is the most accessible scientific text ever written, and I would argue, essential reading for anyone who wishes to engage in arguments about science's role in the public sphere.
Olivia Judson writes an interesting piece in today's New York Times about the surprisingly small number of biologists who have read Charles Darwin's On the Origin of Species, regarded by many as the single most important book in the history of science. (Other obvious contenders: Newton's Principia Mathematica, Maxwell's Treatise on Electromagnetism, Galileo's Two New Sciences, Copernicus' On the Revolution of Heavenly Spheres) Judson is correct in noting that to a modern reader, Darwin's approach towards questions of heredity and genetics seems clunky and outdated. And she equally correct that one can efficiently glean the main points of his arguments from modern textbooks without subjecting oneself to lengthy passages on local pigeon breeders.
Nevertheless, as an aspiring historian of science who has actually read the Origin from cover to cover, I can also agree with Judson when she notes that there are moments when Darwin's "prose is clear, lyrical and glorious: as good as anything ever written by anyone." She refers to the discussion of the "humble-bees" and the famous ending passage describing how the brutality of the natural world can be seen as possessing a positive aspect by inspiring the evolution of better evolved species. Personally, I find Darwin most compelling when he is writing in two different areas. First, are those with which he has a strong first-hand familiarity. Darwin's frequent references to pigeon breeding mentioned above, for example, showcase how much time he devoted to understanding artificial selection, controlled by human actors, before attempting to devise a comparable mechanism for the natural world. Even more impressive, I would contend, is his ability to defend his position against all major criticisms at the time. He explains how gaps in the fossil record, the lack of transitional varieties, the claims of intelligent design advocates, the existence of vestigial organs or socially beneficial instincts, etc. can all be fit within a broader evolutionary framework, and does so in a straightforward and well-thought out manner.
Next year marks the 200th anniversary of Darwin's birth and the 150th anniversary of the Origin's publication. Needless to say, it's going to be a big year for historians of science in general and historians of biology in particular. I hope, however, in all the hubbub, that a few actual non-historians, and maybe even a few non-scientists, will try to give Darwin's work a try. It may not be as riveting as a novel by his contemporary, Charles Dickens, but it certainly is the most accessible scientific text ever written, and I would argue, essential reading for anyone who wishes to engage in arguments about science's role in the public sphere.
Comments:
Post a Comment
