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Surviving Galeras by Stan Williams and Fen Montaigne, Little, Brown,
£16.99, ISBN 0316855707

ON 14 January 1993, a party of volcanologists and local people left a
conference in Pasto, Colombia, to climb to the crater of the nearby Galeras
volcano. At about 1.40 pm, the volcano exploded. Nine people were killed, and of
those who survived many were badly injured. One of these was Stan Williams, a
professor of geology from Arizona State University in Phoenix. Surviving Galeras
is his account of the tragedy, written with journalist Fen Montaigne.

Williams suffered horrific injuries: a fractured skull, an almost completely
severed leg and multiple burns. He endured 14 operations and was left with no
hearing in his left ear. Perhaps more profound are the psychological impacts of
being a survivor, the loss of close colleagues, and the controversy stirred up
by the Galeras deaths.

Surviving Galeras makes compelling reading, as it builds up to the
terrible moments in the crater. Parts of it are painful to read, especially
Williams’s account of talking to bereaved relatives. The book is bound to stir
up controversy, debate and possibly anger among volcanologists. In the past two
decades, 23 of them have died in volcanic eruptions, a considerable death toll
given that the entire international community numbers only a few hundred.

Williams seems to assert that the only true volcanologists are those who take
risks on active volcanoes and make observations in dangerous places, defying
death for the sake of humanity and science. This stereotypical image is one
loved by the media, and Williams isn’t shy about appearing in interviews and TV
documentaries. This has not endeared him to many colleagues who regard the
promotion of the hero-volcanologist image as irresponsible.

I ended up feeling sympathy for Williams as the victim of a terrible trauma.
But I find his views on the science and the way science should be done dangerous
and specious. The lessons of Galeras should point in quite the opposite
direction to his romantic vision.

The excellence of science has little to do with the amount of risk taken or
the scientist’s charisma. This is not to say that there are no risks in
volcanology. Most volcanologists share Williams’s excitement and wonder at one
of the greatest spectacles of nature. But there has been a sea change in
attitude. Volcanology is advancing at an unprecedented rate thanks to remote
observations from satellites and borehole instruments, computer modelling, and
measurements on sophisticated mass spectrometers.

Those who have to venture onto the flanks of an active volcano are
increasingly aware of the hazards. Responsible leaders of scientific teams
minimise exposure time.

Another book on Galeras by investigative journalist Victoria Bruce (No
Apparent Danger, HarperCollins, 2001) reaches a different conclusion,
suggesting that Williams must shoulder some blame for the tragedy. This
conclusion is unfair. While I fundamentally disagree with Williams’s approach to
volcanology as a whole, there is no compelling evidence to link his
idiosyncratic views with the tragedy. Our understanding of volcanoes like
Galeras and their sudden explosive activity was rudimentary in 1993. Major
advances made since then have come from studies of Galeras, Unzen in Japan and
Montserrat in the Caribbean. Breakthrough papers have appeared, including a
pivotal paper by Bernard Chouet in Nature in 1996. Chouet appears to be
one of Williams’s greatest critics, but this seems rather harsh given the state
of knowledge in 1993.

On balance, Williams’s tale is a valuable contribution to volcanology. I hope
that many will read the book and reflect on its implications. But I also hope
that they reject his concept of the hero-volcanologist.