On Giants鈥� Shoulders by Melvyn Bragg with Ruth Gardiner, Hodder &
Stoughton, 拢12.99, ISBN 0340712597
BRITISH man of letters and broadcasting journalist Melvyn Bragg 鈥渇ound鈥�
science about a decade ago, in the way that many find religion. It opened new
windows on his world, and he began to throw writers and artists off his BBC
radio discussion programme, Start the Week, and replace them with the
most eminent and eloquent boffins he could find. He was in tune with the
Zeitgeist: his audiences soared along with sales of books on science. And
the latest manifestation of Bragg鈥檚 drive for science is On Giants鈥�
Shoulders, first broadcast as a radio series, now appearing as this 鈥渂ook
of the series鈥�, co-written with Ruth Gardiner.
His deceptively simple format is to talk with with today鈥檚 top scientists and
popularisers about the lives and works of 12 giants of the past, from Archimedes
through Galileo Galilei and Isaac Newton to Michael Faraday, Charles Darwin,
Jules Henri Poincar茅, Albert Einstein, Francis Crick and James Watson.
His title came from Newton, who declared in 1675 that 鈥淚f I have seen further it
is by standing on the shoulders of giants.鈥�
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Bragg鈥檚 approach could be hackneyed, but it is not. This may not be evident
at first. The scientists are the usual suspects. So, too, are the interpreters,
who range from science writers such as John Gribbin and John Maddox to leading
practitioners鈥擱ichard Dawkins, Susan Greenfield, Paul Davies and Roger
Penrose. Left to their own devices, even the most journalistically inclined
would have gravitated towards an Olympian view of their subject. They can鈥檛 help
it. They are trained that way鈥攕cientists first, on the inside looking
out.
What makes this book work so well is that Bragg is a fine journalist applying
his skills as an outsider to blow away the pretensions and reveal some of the
mechanics and motivations of what is still a remarkably closed world. And as a
reporter, he is a formidable beast.
Critics have already labelled as outdated Bragg鈥檚 underlying assumption that
individuals make history. Lesser mortals are inclined to insist that the giants
were propelled by the 鈥渂road tide鈥� of history. Bragg鈥檚 motive may be nothing
more than the journalistic imperative to personalise stories, but there is a
more cerebral case for his approach.
Modern trends, from the humbling of Marxism to the rise of chaos theory, have
all cast doubt on the 鈥渂road tide鈥� as a metaphor for historical development. And
if that falls, then so does the idea that individuals have a necessarily small
place in the scheme of things. If a butterfly can change the climate, then
surely a genius can change our understanding of the Universe?
Darwin may almost have been pipped to the post by Alfred Wallace in his
leisurely progress towards publication of his ideas on the origin of species.
But, as Penrose tells Bragg, Einstein鈥檚 theory on general relativity 鈥渕ight not
have been arrived at by anyone else鈥�. Penrose, often regarded as the best
physicist since Einstein, goes on to say that Einstein鈥檚 theory did not form
part of any broad tide, but was instead 鈥渟omething quite outside鈥� that 鈥渕ight
not have developed even now鈥�. Considering what has flowed from
it鈥攊ncluding nuclear weapons鈥攖hat is some claim.
Bragg鈥檚 chapters sometimes skirt irritatingly round the scientific core of
their subject鈥檚 work. Somehow the repeated observation that acceleration feels
like gravitation, say, is not enough to convey what Einstein had in mind in his
theories of relativity. It sounded an adequate description on the radio. But it
is out of place when we can re-read the hard bits.
But the examination of what makes a great mind, and why those great minds
pursue science, is obviously of huge interest to Bragg, and this conveyed
vividly to the reader. Contradictory traits keep appearing. So Faraday divided
his time between science and an obscure Scottish Christian sect, the
Sandemanians. He was apparently uninterested in the challenge posed to his
religion by Darwin鈥檚 work. And Einstein, so revolutionary in dismantling the
Newtonian world of physics, soon became a reactionary unable to cope with the
new ideas of quantum physics, while cultivating a new career as a caricature
鈥渕ad scientist鈥� on the celebrity circuit.
Bragg delights in championing Freud as a great scientist, undeterred by the
fact that his theories about the unconscious as a hidden world which keeps
bubbling to the surface, remain objectively untestable. As neuroscientist Susan
Greenfield puts it: 鈥淚f you are going to try and explain consciousness you have
to take on board the subjective, which is anathema for most scientists.鈥� And
Bragg encourages Greenfield to defend the great psychoanalyst against the charge
of misogyny. Freud described his women patients as hysterical because they often
were, and of making sexual advances to him because they often did. The fault was
with a society that created such desperate women, not Freud, she says.
It is remarkable how many of Bragg鈥檚 giants showed little evidence of
precocious genius and shunned the education systems of their day. Einstein was
lazy at school and did his most important work 鈥渦nder his desk鈥� while a minion
at the Swiss Patent Office. Faraday was a blacksmith鈥檚 son who left school at 13
and was an apprentice bookbinder for several years before becoming bottle washer
to Humphry Davy. And even Darwin, gentleman scholar and author of what one
contributor calls 鈥渢he single best idea anybody ever had鈥�, was 鈥渘ot an obviously
brilliant child鈥�. He occupied his Cambridge years in gambling. Perhaps
understandably, Bragg, the precocious scholarship boy, doesn鈥檛 make much of
this. It is, however, a consolation to fellow wastrels.
In his concluding chapter, Bragg offers John Horgan (then of Scientific
American) a platform for propounding the theme of his book The End of
Science (reviewed 22 June 1996, p 45). Scientific discovery as we know it,
says Horgan, is drawing to a close. This sounds as facile as similar writings
from the US in the 1990s on 鈥渢he end of history鈥� and 鈥渢he end of nature鈥�. It is
duly rubbished by the likes of Maddox, former editor of Nature who has his own
book on science due out later this year.
鈥淪cience is just beginning,鈥� says Maddox. He points out that many people felt
like Horgan at the end of the last century. Yet within five years they were
confronted by Einstein on relativity and Max Planck on quantum physics鈥攖wo
breakthroughs, incidentally, that have yet to be reconciled with one
another.
Horgan appears to reckon the game is up because he can鈥檛 conceptualise what
new scientific problems might need answers鈥攔ather as Victorians saw no
cause to question the Newtonian laws of physics. In this, if not in his
conclusion, he can claim elite company. While discussing the nature of human
consciousness, even as didactic a figure as Dawkins is forced to admit that 鈥淚
do not feel I really understand what the problem is, let alone what the solution
to it is鈥�, even though this is something that he considers 鈥渢he greatest
谤颈诲诲濒别鈥�.
That is a refreshing admission from a professor of the public understanding
of science, as well as one of many shafts of insight that Bragg the journalist
got by asking scientists 鈥渟imple questions鈥�.