Philippa Kaur

By George Monbiot
, Colin Tudge
, Pragya Agarwal
, Jonathan Drori
, Emily Shuckburgh
, Cassandra Coburn
, Jojo Mehta
, Jim Down
, Camilla Pang
and Richard Walker

A fantastic science book can wow you, entertain you and change the way you think, all over the course of a few hundred pages. It can also act as a source of inspiration. We have asked 10 brilliant science writers and authors to pick their favourites, many of which were influenced earlier in their careers by their choices. Did your favourite make the list?
The best popular science books as picked by science writers

Jonathan Drori chooses Silent Spring by Rachel Carson
This is like being asked to choose the best vegetable or your favourite child! However, if pressed, I would nominate Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring, published in 1962 but still luminous and relevant. With her strong evidence and clear voice, Carson ignited global environmental efforts by detailing the effects of DDT and other pesticides on the environment. In addition to showing that life on Earth is composed of complex webs of interdependency, she revealed the dangers posed to humans and wildlife by artificial pesticides and exposed the cosy acceptance of industry propaganda by government officials.

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The fierce opposition to Silent Spring mounted by chemical companies has a strong resonance today. Following pressure from lobby groups, the UK government recently allowed sugar-beet seed to be treated with thiamethoxam, a neonicotinoid pesticide that is acutely toxic to bees. Politicians of every stripe should read and thoughtfully digest Carson’s groundbreaking, impassioned, yet utterly scientific book.
 Jonathan Drori’s book, Around the World in 80 Plants, is out now.

Pragya Agarwal chooses The Emperor of All Maladies by Siddhartha Mukherjee
A book that really stands out for me personally is The Emperor of All Maladies by Siddhartha Mukherjee. This was one of the very first books I read that showed how science writing can be magical and fascinating, emotional and political, and intersect with social science, history and philosophy. It is something that I have tried to embody in my own writing, but no one does it better than Mukherjee in this work, where he makes the most complex biological processes and his own love of science so relatable and human.
The way that The Emperor of All Maladies introduces social and cultural context in interpreting the language and communication of a disease that had been shrouded in mystery is sublime. Even though the book is really about death, it is also very optimistic; it normalises talking about dying and grief, and how those are inextricable parts of life. I read it a long time ago and then dipped in and out over the years, and I have been utterly mesmerised and inspired by it ever since.
Pragya Agarwal’s book, (M)otherhood, will be published in June 2021.

Emily Shuckburgh chooses Chaos by James Gleick
I read Chaos by James Gleick as a teenager, and perhaps more than anything else, it inspired me to pursue mathematical studies. It provides such a vivid demonstration of the richness and beauty that can be found within, and as a consequence of, mathematics. I was particularly motivated by the idea that mathematics can be used to better understand – and, indeed, predict the behaviour of – the world around us. It set me on a research career using mathematics to interrogate climate change.
The book opens with a description of mathematician and meteorologist Ed Lorenz watching the early-morning fog creep along the Massachusetts Institute of Technology campus – little did I know that years later I would gaze out at the Charles river from the same spot, or that to this day I would still be building on Lorenz’s work. For me, the book was the flap of a butterfly’s wing that spawned an entire career.
Emily Shuckburgh is the director of Cambridge Zero, the University of Cambridge’s major climate change initiative and author of Climate Change (A Ladybird Expert Book).

Cassandra Coburn chooses Junk Food Monkeys by Robert Sapolsky
My all-time favourite popular science book is Junk Food Monkeys by Stanford University neuroscientist Robert Sapolsky. This book occupies a very special place in my heart because it was the first popular science book I ever read. In a series of essays, Sapolsky explores a variety of bizarre and seemingly disconnected topics (chapter titles range from “Beelzebub’s SAT Scores” to “The Night You Ruined Your Pyjamas”), using evolutionary biology to deftly dissect and inform.
I must have been around 11 when I first picked this book up, so I couldn’t possibly have understood all that I was reading. But Sapolsky’s technique of providing careful, fact-based examinations, sprinkled with pithy humour, offered me a method of making sense of the world that I had never encountered before. It was my first introduction to the scientific technique as a tool, not just science as fact. Twenty-odd years later, I am still using science to try to understand and improve the world.
Cassandra Coburn’s book, Enough: How your food choices will save the planet, is out now.

Colin Tudge chooses On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection by Charles Darwin
Incomparably the greatest – there are no others in sight – is Charles Darwin’s On the Origin of Species, published in 1859. It was, indeed, a “popular” book – written in a hurry after the exemplary Alfred Russel Wallace threatened to beat him to the draw, it was an immediate bestseller. Yet it has transformed biology and the mindset of the whole world.

Alas, though, like all great thinkers and prophets, Darwin has been most horribly misrepresented, not least by his would-be disciples. He is cited as a champion of atheism, although his clerical contemporary Frederic Farrar saw in him “a spirit profoundly reverent”. His emphasis on competition is invoked to justify neoliberalism, which he would surely have despised. He has been presented as a cold fish, the stereotypical scientist, though he was a loving family man and a warm friend. Truly the record needs rebalancing.
Colin Tudge’s book, The Great Re-Think, is out now.

Jojo Mehta chooses A Brief History of Everything by Ken Wilber
I am, by nature, a curious generalist, so I have enjoyed many popular science books over the years, from Morris Kline’s Mathematics in Western Culture to Steven Pinker’s The Language Instinct via Surely You’re Joking Mr Feynman and The Tiger That Isn’t, to name a few. It may be a legacy of my postgraduate anthropological studies – or possibly the East-meets-West legacy of my Buddhist guru and Christian priest grandfathers – that means I am as fascinated by the underlying epistemological standpoint of the writer as I am by the subject matter itself.
As such, one of my favourites is in the area of consciousness studies and evolutionary theory. Really, it is a philosophy book: Ken Wilber’s A Brief History of Everything. His elegant reconciliation of scientific, cultural, psychological and sociological perspectives into a coherent and intellectually rigorous framework is remarkable, and (in its left-brain way) it works, which makes it both useful and beautiful. As, in my world, all the best things are.
Jojo Mehta is a co-founder of the Stop Ecocide campaign.

Jim Down chooses Longitude by Dava Sobel
Dava Sobel’s book chronicles the struggle to solve the longitude problem. In 1714, with the world’s explorers literally lost at sea, the British parliament offered £20,000 for a “practicable and useful” solution.  Astronomers looked to the stars for inspiration, while others relied on the howling of injured dogs. John Harrison, a self-taught clock-maker from Yorkshire, set out to build a precision timekeeper that could withstand an 18th-century ocean crossing – a task so fraught with difficulty that it was deemed unachievable by Isaac Newton himself.
Longitude is the gripping story of one man’s 40-year struggle against the establishment. It is a tale of perfectionism, determination, genius, politics, treachery and ultimately redemption. Sobel punctuates her book with gems such as the inadvertent discovery of the speed of light, and leaves the reader marvelling at the beauty of science. Three of the four clocks that Harrison built still keep time today.
Jim Down’s book, Life Support: Diary of an ICU Doctor on the Frontline of the Covid Crisis, is out now.

Camilla Pang chooses Critical Mass by Philip Ball
The one book that changed my life was Critical Mass by Philip Ball. It came out when I was a teenager and – being a chunky monkey at 656 pages long – it was the biggest book I had read in the shortest time! Throughout each page, it gave me confidence in my thoughts (which were previously branded as crazy and noisy) into crystallised sense. Linking sciences together is a thing.
Critical Mass explores how physics can be used in politics, and the sciences of human behaviour and organisation; these were ideas I was having at the time that I read it, and I learned from the book that others had been having them for centuries as well. This was a pivotal moment in my confidence as a scientist and in trusting my judgement.
Learning this historical context and understanding where my own ideas aligned – or otherwise – was exciting, and has informed my own area of study ever since. How do we understand the people around us? Does it matter that the ideas in my head only make sense to me? How can I make them real? There and then, I started to externalise my links by communicating and updating my scientific principles, so I could further examine these everyday interactions.
Camilla’s book, An Outsider’s Guide to Humans: What science taught me about what we do and who we are, is out now.

George Monbiot chooses The Unnatural History of the Sea by Callum Roberts
Callum Roberts’s magnificent The Unnatural History of the Sea tells the story of what the ocean once was, and could be again. It draws on a vast pool of historical and ecological knowledge to show just how much we have lost: cod the length of a person, plaice like tabletops, shoals of herring several miles long being harried within sight of the English shore by packs of bluefin tuna, giant sharks, fin whales and sperm whales. Reading it is like stepping through a portal into a magical kingdom. He explains how we could restore this glory and ensure that our seas boil with life once more.
George Monbiot’s book, This Can’t Be Happening, will be published in August 2021.

Richard Walker chooses The Nature of Nature by Enric Sala
Sala’s landmark book offers an impassioned argument for the preservation of the nature around us, distilling complex ecological challenges into an account that feels both accessible and practical. Each chapter explores a series of questions – some still unanswerable – and explains why the environmental crisis is, indeed, the most significant issue facing humanity. The book also covers the real-life challenges we face in prioritising nature against a backdrop of global capitalism, providing lessons that are more relevant than ever as we look towards economic recovery from the covid-19 pandemic.
Seamlessly blending research and theory with personal anecdotes from Sala’s vast experience, The Nature of Nature is a must read for anyone with an interest in protecting our one home, a compelling and heartfelt call to action on the need to save the natural world.
Richard Walker’s book, The Green Grocer, is out now.
These authors are appearing at the Hay Festival, which takes place online from 26 May to 6 June 2021. hayfestival.org/wales

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By Christa Lesté-Lasserre

Seeing someone look at a mobile phone can encourage others to pick up theirs too Klaus Vedfelt/Getty Images
When a person looks at their mobile phone, around half the people nearby will start checking their phones within 30 seconds.
Such a rapid, automatic response is probably due to people mimicking each other without realising it – what scientists call the “chameleon effect”. While such mimicry is thought to have evolved in human societies to help people bond with each other, mimicking mobile phone use might have the opposite effect, says Elisabetta Palagi at the University of Pisa, Italy.

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“We have a need to follow the norms imposed on us by people around us, to [match] our actions with theirs in this automatic way,” she says. “But smartphones can increase social isolation through interference and disruption with real-life, ongoing activities.”
Worse, people without phones can’t even try to replicate the behaviour. “So these people can feel especially isolated.”
Palagi had already investigated the chameleon effect in humans – which can include facial expressions, hand movements, foot shaking, yawning and speech patterns. So when her student Veronica Maglieri noted how people – including herself – always seemed to pick up their phones when other people did, they decided to run an observational study.

The team watched 88 women and 96 men in 820 different situations in natural settings – parks, restaurants, public transportation, waiting rooms and dinner parties, for example – to see how many would look at their phones after someone else nearby did. These “trigger” individuals pushed buttons or swiped their screens for five seconds, either with or without looking at the lit-up screen.
The researchers found that 50 per cent of people looked at their phone within 30 seconds of the trigger touching and looking at his or her phone, but just 0.5 per cent of people did so when the trigger touched the phone without looking at it. “It’s paying attention to the phone that sets off the mimicry,” Palagi says.
The mimicking behaviour wasn’t just fast, but – at least anecdotally – it was also automatic and subconscious, adds Maglieri. “One woman who was sitting across from me in a waiting room saw me check my phone, and within seconds she took out her phone and called someone and said, ‘Hey, I just felt like calling you; I don’t know why,’” she says.
Response rates were the same across all groups, regardless of age, sex, or relationship to the trigger. The researchers themselves were usually the triggers, and the people they observed were strangers, acquaintances or friends and family in balanced groups. But none of the subjects knew their behaviour was being observed.
“Most people get infected by other people’s mobile phone behaviour, without even realising it,” says Palagi.
Journal reference: Journal of Ethology, DOI: 10.1007/s10164-021-00701-6

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By Michael Marshall

Metal scraps from a late Bronze Age battlefield in northern GermanyVolker Minkus/Thomas Terberger
The first pan-European currency may have existed more than 2800 years ago in the Bronze Age. There were no coins yet and no central bank, but people across Europe used fragments of bronze – the majority of which were either a standard mass or a multiple of that.
“You can actually think of some monetary union in Europe without public institutions,” says Nicola Ialongo at the University of Göttingen in Germany.
Bronze is an alloy of copper and other metals, usually tin, that was used widely … More

Josie Ford
Blame Brexit
A wise old dog, a bit arthritic – not Feedback’s Tinder bio, but Peter Holness’s description of his companion Arby, who is getting a bit long in the canines. To lessen the pains of age, a “less sceptical” member of Peter’s family bought Arby a collar that incorporates a “powerful bipolar magnet”.
Enquiring with members of the customer services department of the company concerned about the possibility of a monopolar version, Peter was informed that one wasn’t available. They weren’t sure why, but it was possibly due to “Brexit-related supply issues”.
Feedback has been following the search for a magnetic north without a south, or vice versa, with interest for some years. Physicists hunting the elusive magnetic monopole within the Large Hadron Collider or inside exotic solids, take note: your quarry may be languishing in a warehouse in Felixstowe, or caught in a snarl-up on the approach to the port of Dover.

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Two’s company…
Due diligence on the preceding leads us to a breakthrough in our own quest for eternal youth, as we land on the website of Bioflow magnetic collars. Bioflow’s products, we learn, work via a “Central Reverse Polarity field – a strong, multi-directional force of magnetism. Unlike standard and competitor’s magnets, Bioflow’s Central Reverse Polarity magnet has three poles.”
Strong stuff. We don’t wonder that “when blood passes under this multi-directional field, cells experience an agitating effect”. If readers should detect a certain jumpiness in our prose this week, for once it isn’t the office coffee – we can’t get this darn thing off.
Flame-grilling
Social media site for the short of attention Twitter was lightly smouldering last week as US thin-sliced frozen steaks manufacturer The Steak-Umm Company reignited a long-standing beef, of uncertain provenance, it has with pronouncements made by the astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson.
Responding to Tyson’s tweet (“The good thing about Science is that it’s true, whether or not you believe in it”), the company’s official account reacted first with a succinct “log off bro”, followed 5 minutes later by a clarificatory tweet: “nope. science itself isn’t “true” it’s a constantly refining process used to uncover truths based in material reality and that process is still full of misteaks. neil just posts ridiculous sound bites like this for clout and he has no respect for epistemology”.
Which, as far as the meat of the matter goes, isn’t wrong. As Twitter user David Vienna put it: “We have reached the point in our collective human evolution at which I nod in agreement with a sandwich meat company as they take a swipe at a celebrated astrophysicist.”
Many strings
To this day, Feedback much treasures an enraged letter sent by a reader following our publication of an article by University of Warwick mathematics professor Ian Stewart, on the mathematics of electoral systems, in the run-up to the 2010 UK general election (1 May 2010, p 28). How dare we, it asked, be giving a party-political platform to the Conservative candidate for the constituency of Milton Keynes South?
That turned out to be the subtly variant Iain Stewart. Since then, however, we have taken it as a vaguely amusing axiom that all instances of the same name map to the same person. Thus physicist Brian Cox, for instance, has led a busy life not just as a keyboard player for the band D:Ream, but also as the first actor to play Hannibal Lecter on film, while goalkeeping for Huddersfield Town.
So we were tickled to see, while rummaging around in the arXiv preprint server for something we had mislaid, the publication list attributed to David Politzer, co-winner of the 2004 Nobel prize in physics for his work on the theory of quantum chromodynamics – 14 papers on the physics of the banjo.
Except, chuckling self-satisfiedly, we then discovered a webpage hosted by the California Insititute of Technology with links both to “Banjo Physics 411” and a public lecture delivered in Stockholm in 2004 “as per the will of Alfred Nobel”. So, as far as our theorem goes, QED. Or perhaps in Politzer’s case, QCD. That’s a physics joke.
Human measures
Last week, The Sun newspaper invented a newly perplexing way of measuring things (Feedbacks passim), Adrian Bell notes: the exactly equivalent explicatory unit. It reported the birth of a very large baby boy, “almost 24 inches long, that’s two footlong Subway sandwiches for perspective”.
That said, Feedback remembers Subway once responding to a customer complaint about an 11-inch “Footlong” by asserting that the name was “not intended to be a measurement of length”. Suffice it to say: it was a big baby.
Mayday, mayday
Many thanks to the readers who responded retrocausally to our item mentioning language not being about rules, but efficient communication (17 April) by pointing out our solecism in ending an item with “Over and out” (3 April). In radio comms, “Over” invites a response, while “out” is a contradictory indication that communication has ended. We apologise for any confusion. Out and over.
Got a story for Feedback?Send it to feedback@newscientist.com or New Scientist, 25 Bedford Street, London WC2E 9ESConsideration of items sent in the post will be delayed
You can send stories to Feedback by email at feedback@newscientist.com. Please include your home address. This week’s and past Feedbacks can be seen on our website. More

By Clare Wilson

garfotos/Alamy
THE past year has made many people better appreciate the time they spend outside. But one kind of outdoor space has been on the decline in the UK for a few decades: front gardens.
A major factor in this downturn is the growing number of people who pave over their front gardens to create parking spaces, as well as new homes being built this way. According to a 2015 survey by the Royal Horticultural Society (RHS), about 28 per cent of all UK houses were entirely paved or gravelled over at the front, a proportion that had tripled over … More

Lockdown is affecting how millions of people grieve. We need to be mindful of that when restrictions ease, says Dean Burnett

Humans

| Comment

21 April 2021

By Dean Burnett

Michelle D’urbano
A YEAR ago, my 58-year-old otherwise healthy father contracted covid-19. He eventually succumbed to it, and died. And I have been dealing with the grief ever since, while under lockdown.
If you go by how it is portrayed in mainstream fiction, grief is very predictable. You go through five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Once through all these stages, you can move on with your life.
But reality is far more complex. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, who came up with the five-stage idea, regretted writing it in such a way that led to its simplistic portrayal. The stages reflect the sort of reactions people can have, but they don’t form a rigid road map.

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Grief during lockdown is even more complex. I say this as someone who, like millions of other people, has endured months of it, cut off from friends and family. I fear this is causing genuine problems that are going unrecognised or unacknowledged.
Neurologically, emotions are a complex and unpredictable mess. The brain areas involved are intertwined with practically every other neurological function. This is why emotional experiences can affect us so potently and take so long to process.
Our brains learn and develop based on our experiences and understanding of the world around us. So, even if inaccurate or oversimplified, the cultural consensus about grief informs our expectations. We “know” that when you lose someone, you have a funeral and wake to say goodbye to or celebrate the departed. These accepted parts of the grieving process are thrown out of whack by lockdown.
And while well intentioned, socially distanced funerals may do more harm than good. Among other things, rituals give the bereaved a sense of control over events, something important for well-being, and something that, at present, is drastically reduced following the loss of a loved one.
My father was a widely beloved individual. Ordinarily, there would have been hundreds at his funeral. To have it limited to 14 next of kin? Nobody wanted that. What are the consequences for well-being if a funeral makes you feel less in control, rather than more?
Lockdowns have also made it difficult to adjust to my father’s absence. For months, everyone has been absent. It is the law.
Delayed grief, where the effects hit later, or complex grief, where someone has disruptive reactions to a loss beyond what is deemed normal, are conditions recognised by medical science. It could be that these problems arise because the experience of grief doesn’t match the expectations our brains have formulated.
Maybe I will experience the full effects of grief long after my father’s passing, when lockdown in the UK finally fully ends and my father not being there becomes “real”. Will this make me, and everyone else in the same situation, mentally unwell? I would argue not. But it is something that could harm the mental health of millions of people, long after the initial cause has occurred.
As understandable as it is, from my perspective as both a grieving relative and a neuroscientist, the current “Hooray, no more lockdown!” attitude of much of the UK media and general public only throws the enduring grief of many into stark relief.
While it is fine to embrace the improving situation regarding the pandemic in the UK, we should be in no rush to “move on” and pretend it never happened, or to condemn or sideline those still feeling the effects of what it took from them. That could make a bad situation worse.
They say that time heals all wounds. But if it is time spent in lockdown, it could mean healing is delayed. In situations like that, wounds can often get worse. We should recognise that.

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