Those Dreadful Hammers

When I started graduate school in science journalism, my adviser insisted that I include history of science classes in my program. “No journalist really understands a subject unless she knows its history,” he said.

It was some of the best – and the most influential – advice I received. It led me think of science always as a work in progress. It led me to write three history of science books (currently starting on the fourth). It led me to appreciate that we cannot really understand where we stand without knowledge of the path that led us here. And, more simply, it led me to take a class on Charles Darwin and the history of biology which left me with a battered copy of On the Origin of Species (which I still treasure) and an enduring fascination for the subject.

All of which leads me to Brian Switek‘s terrific new book, Written in Stone. which explores both the evolution of life on earth and the evolution of the science that seeks interpret it. Switek focuses on the story of evolution spelled out in the fossil record, that undeniable evidence of life forms come and gone. But, as happens when one really explores history of science, he also tells a wonderfully human tale of scientists, naturalists, amateur fossil collectors, and geologists as they seek to breathe life into these buried remnants of the past.

We forget today how world-shaking was the discovery of ancient rock strata and the relics that lay within. As they burrowed downward, geologists of the 19th century found evidence of ancient seas, of vanished marshes and mountains, pebbled with fossilized plants, insects, and creatures great and small. Long before Darwin published his famous treatise in 1859, the geologists were shaking the foundations of world history, chipping away at the religious world view.

The British social critic and essayist John Ruskin lamented in 1851 that his faith was being beaten to the thinness of gold leaf by such rock-bound evidence: “If only the geologists would leave me alone, I could do very well, but those dreadful hammers! I hear the clink of them at the end of every cadence of the Bible verses.”

Switek’s elegant tale reminds us that knowledge, like life, is ever evolving and not always by a predictable path. From our 21st century perspective, too, it’s fascinating to follow early naturalists as they struggle to make sense of the bits and pieces unearthed from the ground. They build single monsters from the bones of several creatures. They take these oddities out on tour, exhibiting them at museums and carnivals alike. They advertised them like circus freaks: “This unparalleled Gigantic remains…Monarch over all the Animal Creation; the Mammoth, and even the mighty Iguanodon may easily have crept between his legs.”

But even this isn’t entirely bad. The flamboyant mistakes set their countrymen’s imaginations ablaze. And as slowly corrections occurred, the non-scientists of the world also received a very good lesson in how science works, in the gradual way researchers grope toward real understanding.

In one of my favorite pieces of this history, 18th century European scientists declared that the fossils of great creatures unearthed on their side of the Atlantic – and the lack of comparable New World fossils – proved that the fledgling United States of America was shallow by nature, built on on a primitive continent. They ignored the fact, of course, that the country was so young that similar excavations had yet to be done. But the insult prompted Thomas Jefferson not only to write a natural history, detailing America’s native riches, but to encourage fossil explorations, even instructing Lewis & Clark to hunt for fossil evidence during their westward mapping expeditions.

Thus, in reality, is knowledge often advanced. Thus are White House fossil collection enriched. And thus do really excellent science histories – like Written in Stone - make our world a more fascinating place.

Editor’s Note: Speakeasy Science is proud to publish this post as part of the Written in Stone blog tour.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
This entry was posted in science history, Speakeasy Science. Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Those Dreadful Hammers

  1. Pingback: Quick Links | A Blog Around The Clock

  2. jeconnery says:

    I cannot help but think of “Inherit the Wind” and the line, “I’m more interested in the Rock of Ages than the ages of rocks.”

    It’s a line, while glib and used easily to lampoon the restrictions of faith, which makes a person appreciate that information can be profoundly troubling when juxtaposed with firmly held and highly valued beliefs. And so, it’s wonderful to be reminded that science itself has had its less-than-steady periods, complete with crises of faith. The search for knowledge and answers, it seems, can take us up toward the heavens or deep into terra firma. Either way, it appears the process is far from complete.

    Thanks for the recommendation, Deb.

  3. Grant says:

    As a student I learnt the lesson you tell in your first two paragraphs a different way, by noting how senior scientists described recent work: often their descriptions were not so much what the new papers said, per se, but a short history of how things got to that point.

    You might like to know that courtesy of David Kroll I now have a copy of The Poisoner’s Handbook, which I’m enjoying reading. Maybe one day I’ll fall for this book-writing thing myself… (I keep meaning to in a way, but I can’t see how I’d make a living if I did!)

  4. Deborah Blum says:

    I’m glad you’re enjoying Poisoner’s Handbook – isn’t David Kroll terrific? And, promise, writing books can actually provide a living income – or at least part of one. There’s an interesting session at #scio11 on using blogs to build a book. Hope to see you there.

  5. Deborah Blum says:

    It’s a great line, Ed, and you make a great point. I think the willingness to search – despite doubts and uncertainties – is one of the qualities that we can be proud of.

  6. Grant says:

    It is terrific of David, but I also feel a little overwhelmed/embarrassed/etc too! (A copy of The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks arrived a little later. So, now your book has competition ;-) Seriously, Rebecca Skloot’s book will have to wait it’s turn.)

    About writing, I have to be a little careful taking on other things as my day job is as a science consultant (i.e., scientist-for-hire – computational biology). This work isn’t (usually) salary-based and a bunch of things associated with that, which I shall spare boring you with, suggests caution. (Then again, I could be wrong! BTW: Not “no”, just making sure one doesn’t rock the other.)

    I’d love to be at scio11, but probably won’t be there. I learnt that registration was opening via the “open” announcement on twitter: I scrolled up and found it had already closed!! There is a writing contest that I may enter that offers entry, but I haven’t a lot of free time and my writing skills — in my opinion — are still pretty modest.

    Another meeting that looks great is the WFSJ international meeting at Cairo – the web page says you chair the programme committee. The sessions look excellent.

  7. Pingback: Written in Stone – Reviews, Interviews, and More by Brian Switek. The finished copies of Written in Stone should be rolling off the presses within the next few days, and I am glad to say that the book continues to gain positive reviews as it finally mak