DON鈥橳 be put off by the beginning of Wrinkles in Time. By George Smoot and Keay Davidson, and published by Penguin (pp 332, 拢8.99), this is yet another book on cosmology and it starts with a clich茅 about the wonder of observing the night sky. But if you cast the book aside you will be missing one of the most exhilarating and absorbing books ever written about science.
Most people are familiar with the big bang, even if they know little about the theory of the origin of the Universe 鈥 that colossal primeval explosion that created all matter and expanding space itself. Although the idea caught on, especially after the discovery in 1964 of cosmic background radiation 鈥 described as the 鈥渁fterglow鈥 of the explosion 鈥 there were still mysteries to be explained. It is obvious that matter is not evenly distributed in space, as you might expect after an explosion such as the big bang. And what has condensed as galaxies of stars is also unevenly distributed, and accounts for only about 1 per cent of the originally created matter. Could there have been fluctuations in the temperature of the expanding matter after the bang, Smoot鈥檚 鈥渨rinkles in time鈥? If so, they could account for the formation of the Universe we know.
The book describes the agonies and frustrations of the search for the evidence of the fluctuations, of attempts to launch COBE (the Cosmic Background Explorer) and the necessity to check and re-check results which meant an expedition to the South Pole. With humour, balance and anecdote the authors chart the long, determined struggle for success. The scientific teams are after all human and the reader is pleasurably sucked into their lives, experiencing their failure, disappointment and eventual triumph. This is an adventure story of a rare kind, a classic.
Advertisement
IN 1993, Paul Davies gave a series of lectures in Milan on the implications, theological, scientific, social and so on for humans if extraterrestrial life were discovered. The question of life elsewhere in the Universe is one of the oldest, tantalising the ancient Greeks and still riveting now. Are We Alone? (Penguin, pp 109, 拢5.99) is based on the lectures. It is a clear and concise summary of present efforts to seek out signs of life elsewhere in the Universe, such as the SETI programme of radio frequency sweeps, theories of the origin of life on Earth and what alien life might be like. Davies鈥檚 references to reports of UFO contacts are dispassionate.
It is a valuable book on an important subject, but it is a slim one and bafflingly expensive.
SCOTT D. SAGAN鈥檚 The Limits of Safety (Princeton University Press, pp 285, 拢12.95, $14.95) is exclusively concerned with US nuclear weapons and the possibility of deploying them in error. Here is a subject that has spiced up many books and films. Sagan鈥檚 forays into official documents, armed with the Freedom of Information Act, uncovered almost incredible happenings. For example, during the Cuban crisis radar operators apparently detected a missile, launched from Cuba and aimed at Tampa, Florida. Later it was shown that a test tape, simulating an attack, was running when a satellite came over the horizon at exactly the same moment and exactly the right spot for a real missile to appear, and the operators panicked. The crisis was sorted out, but Sagan is not confident about the safety record so far, which seems to have had too many close calls for comfort. Your knuckles will whiten as you turn the pages.
IN The Astonishing Hypothesis (Touchstone, pp 317, 拢6.99) Francis Crick lays his cards on the table in his opening sentence. 鈥淭he Astonishing Hypothesis is鈥, he asserts, 鈥渢hat 鈥榊ou鈥, your joys and your sorrows, your memories and ambitions, your sense of personal identity and free will, are in fact no more than the behaviour of a vast assembly of nerve cells and their associated molecules.鈥 I don鈥檛 know of a more arresting statement. It is like being picked up by both lapels.
Concentrating on visual awareness to illustrate the nature of consciousness he guides the reader through the anatomy of the brain and how it works, according to present knowledge, and suggests some experiments that might help to solve the mysteries that still exist. The subtitle of the book is 鈥淭he Scientific Search for the Soul鈥 and the section called 鈥淒r Crick鈥檚 Sunday Morning Service鈥 duly elaborates on what 鈥渟oul鈥 means, considering the complexity of the brain, with billions of neurons connected in ways unique to the individual.
This is a modest book, in the sense that Crick is always aware of the stupendous phenomenon that the human brain is. Unusually, it truly merits that word that reviewers have nearly bludgeoned to death 鈥 it is fascinating.