Isn’t Science Sublime?

Abstract

For over a half century, popular science books have been embraced enthusiastically by the welcoming public, from Richard Dawkins on evolution to Brian Greene on string theory. But while shelf upon shelf of books of popular science exist, only one book exists on these books, Elizabeth Leane’s Reading Popular Physics. Perhaps that’s because no other book is needed; perhaps there is no more mystery to solve, no conundrum to unravel. Take A Brief History of Time: it is selling far better than Gone with the Wind, apparently with good reason: it is a better read. A reviewer on Amazon opines: “Stephen Hawking is an established scientific genius, but this book establishes him as a brilliant writer—an extremely rare, yet valuable combination.” A blog critic pronounces his verdict: “A Brief History of Time is far more than a science book. It’s one of the renaissance books that is so seminal to the notion of who we are, and where we might be in the next 50 years, that it should be required reading for every person from high school on. If that seems like a big ask you’ve got the wrong idea about this book. It’s light and easy and fun, full of subtle humor and provocative notions.” These are views about a book chock-full of abstruse ideas strenuously avoided in their school years by all but future physicists. The universal attraction of such books is the mystery I would like to solve, the conundrum I would like to unravel. Jon Turney, a scholar of popular science and former editor of Penguin Books, questions whether such a book can be written: “At some point,” he says, “one must ask if it is possible . . . to consider the whole ensemble of books. I have my doubts. Even books on the same topic, quantum physics say, are tremendously diverse, in style, level, approach, and in which genres they draw on.” Turney is not totally despairing of success; he suggests that potential authors see popular science books as symptoms of larger forces in our culture. I intend to act on Turney’s suggestion. I acknowledge the diversity of style, level, and approach that Turney sees as an obstacle to a comprehensive account. But I attribute this diversity not to a difference in goals but to differing literary talents and to different takes on what science is and what it can accomplish. However different their skills and their subject matter, these writers are in the business of generating in their readers a sense of wonder at a nature whose workings science, and only science, can comprehend.