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50 of 54 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Good book, wrong title, misguided criticism, November 4, 1999
By A Customer
I'm a young scientist doing chemical physics research in graduate school. I bought this book with the intention that I would like to criticize it-- after having read the thing. Despite being fully ready to rip it to shreds, I found that I really enjoyed this book. This revelation doesn't cause me discomfort, but the violent reaction to the book within the science community does. It was really bad in Physics. This is odd, indeed: Physics is a particularly arrogant field. We can calculate almost anything, we can come up with some explanation to almost any phenomenon. To think that we actually haven't figured it all out is completely contradictory to our attitude about how much we already know. The main problem is that the criticism is not actually on target. Horgan is not writing the eulogy for Science, he is lamenting the fact that there aren't going to be any obvious, cataclysmic revolutions that Discovery Channel producers can turn into week-long mini-series. There aren't going to be any headlines that read, "Einstein was wrong! " Maybe he's right. So what? Most science is involved in narrowly-focused, penetrating investigations of, well, rather trivial details. No one suffering from the 1918 flu could care less about the hydrogen atom spectrum. Rydberg, Lyman, and, yes, Bohr were also muddling through basically minute details as far as pandemics are concerned. So they got lucky, and found out that "Newton was wrong! " The spectrum of hydrogen was well-known long before 1926, when Schrodinger came up with his eponymous equation. Even more time elapsed between the discovery of quantum mechanics and its most important application--the microprocessor. So who are we to say that great discoveries won't be made in 50 years? Horgan does a magnificent job of collecting the thoughts of his interviewees, however out of context they may be. He shows us that Crick might believe that some aliens flew by the Earth and dropped life seeds. Horgan weaves a rich fabric of hypocrisy into which the famous giants are a bit too eager to snuggle. Then he springs the trap. He delights in leveling the structures of arrogance many renowned scientists construct to insulate them from criticism. These are necessary gambits in his field. Horgan does, however, rely upon the most disingenuous tactic, one which is endemic to the field of "science writing"--he makes the reader feel as if he has actually learned some science from the author. Some pop-sci books are better than others, but, in this regard, this one is the worst I can remember. If you think you have learned any science from this book, I can assure you that you have not. His coverage of philosophy is fine, as good as you're going to find in a science-oriented piece, but the rest is pure vapor. This is a very important point for the non-scientist (the primary audience, I presume, for this work). Horgan nut-shells the science and then presents the scientist--who you are inadequately prepared to judge since you really know nothing about his (or her, mostly his) work. Most physicists, not to mention all non-scientists, barely understand the fundamental priciples of string theory. It's not taught to students, and there are very few graduate courses, at any institution, on the subject. There is a very simple reason for this lack of dissemination: the math is hard. Whatever you think about quantum mechanics (QM), or relativity, the mathematics is straightforward for the typical physics undergraduate. The bulk of math involved in the study of QM is from the 19th century, and it is covered in the first year math courses taken by most science students. The mathematics involved in any remedial understanding of string theory (or, to be more current, M-theory) is insanely advanced. I don't claim to understand it, and I don't think most physicists do either. So you think, "Ah! String theory, that sounds like some sort of weird, goofy thing." And you're wrong. But Horgan doesn't take that approach. He mocks the subject as being untestable, thus it is ironic science. Penrose is ironic, Whitten is not. Penrose is another of these I-have-too-much-time-on-my-hands English guys who decides to take his fame and use it for outlandish musings. And the pop-sci-reading community eats it up. So here it is, Horgan is a brilliant writer, and I enjoy good writing. He knows lots of famous people (the list is really a who's-who of modern science). He has a clever insight--that there aren't going to be any more catastrophic reinventions in science. But it's not that clever, really. More person-years have been spent in research areas which could potentially invalidate QM than any other theory, in any other era. Newton presented a revolution 300 years ago, and there were very few scientists for the next 200 years (as a fraction of the number working the second half of the 20th century). QM has withstood more scrutiny than Newton's Laws did, I submit. If you open the book to the table of contents, and you recognize half the names, you'll like this book. If you recognize all the names, you'll love it. But if you finish the book and think that there really is an end to science, you've got more work to do. You need to enroll in some first-year science courses and find out that, while most of the basic principles of science are determined, almost any interesting phenomenon is completely mysterious. Look at it this way: just because I know all the rules of grammar, does that mean I know all poetry? A brilliant physicist, P. A. M. Dirac, once said that chemistry has been reduced to solving a differential equation (a linear one at that, which is funny if you know math). In principle, of course, he is correct. But for almost every practical chemical reaction, the equation is not solvable. From Schrodinger's equation I cannot derive DNA and how it functions in a cell. Likewise, from a complete grammar of English I cannot derive Hamlet.
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