Book report: The Origin of Species, by Charles Darwin
When it comes to subjects like biology and medicine, I am an absolute moron. I only barely avoided failing the one and only biology class I ever took, thanks to an absurd amount of extra-credit outside reading assignments and a science fair project that I still don't understand. I can never remember if DNA is made out of chromosomes or the other way around. Same with proteins and amino acids. I'm not a generally stupid person, but I do recognize my limits: biological matters are opaque to me.
It was with the hope of redeeming myself that I read "The Origin of Species". I felt that, if I could read and somewhat comprehend probably the most influential and controversial book ever written on biology, then I might once again be able to present myself in modern society without wearing a veil.
"The Origin of Species" sold out its entire first printing on the day of publication in 1859, largely because of its expected controversial contents. Darwin had written and spoken on such subjects for years, so the public anticipated some pretty scandalous stuff. The book is still considered controversial for several reasons. First, the theory that it presents appears to contradict the Biblical account of creation. (I say "appears" because it doesn't really. Anyone who genuinely believes in a strictly literal interpretation of Genesis, as opposed to a metaphorical interpretation, must necessarily also believe that Jesus actually was a door, a shepherd, a vine, a light, and a loaf of bread, which rather diminishes his or her credibility.) Second, it seems to contradict common sense ideas of inheritance: how can the offspring of a horse be anything but another horse? Third, it's kind of icky: we're essentially the same kind of things as slugs and worms: ewww. Fourth, it brings up uncomfortable ethical issues: if we're essentially the same kind of thing as the contents of a Happy Meal, how do we justify being the eaters and not the eatees? Finally, it's hard to comprehend that it's all true, in much the same way that it's hard to comprehend that we are all really blizzards of protons, neutrons, and electrons.
The book is very different from any science book I've ever read. Darwin is not lecturing from the podium of an auditorium. He's your learned friend sitting in the easy chair next to yours, probably in front of a cheerful fire after a nice dinner, telling you about some really interesting things he's seen and ideas he's had. Much of it is written in first person, which is very refreshing and personal.
It's clear that Darwin is multiple kinds of a genius. He's a lucid writer, with concise and telling expressions: he never uses two words if there's a single better one. He's also a gifted experimenter. He refers in many places to decades of clever experiments he's done with pigeons, bees, ants, grass, flowers, and other organisms, and you get the definite impression that these are only the tip of the iceberg of his accomplishments. Besides his deliberate experiments, he's also an amazing observational naturalist. He alludes to many things that he himself has witnessed, not only on his famous voyage around South America, but also on trips around England and Europe. In addition, he's an exhaustive and thorough researcher. The first part of the book is a review of everything (and I mean everything) written to that point on the subject. It's obvious that he's read everything available on the topic. Finally, he is an active correspondent with everyone doing related work or research at the time. He quotes the research and observations of numerous others, from some of the most famous scientists of his time to ordinary farmers who raise crops and animals for a living.
He begins by discussing the variations possible among members of the same species that are easily observable and are obviously deliberate, namely among domesticated animals and plants. This makes it clear that significant differences within a species are possible during only a few generations. This is what he calls "selection": deliberately choosing animals and plants for definite features, and encouraging these features.
He then expands his view to look at variation within nature, outside domestication. This allows him to bring up "natural selection": the conditions of nature favoring certain features over others. Organisms with good features are more likely to survive and reproduce. Organisms with bad features are unlikely to reproduce, and may become extinct.
Darwin packs a lot into his writing. His sentences are fireworks. Practically every one explodes off the page as a condensation of vast amounts of detailed research, or the statement of an amazing observation or theory. He consistently refers to this book as a "sketch," because he feels that he is not presenting all the detail he could on each point. But this is a sketch in the sense that Michelangelo's David is a rock. There is a vast and astonishing amount of detail in this book. Indeed, for me to say that I have "read" this book is not accurate. To truly appreciate this book, you would have to read one of his blockbuster sentences, then go off and contemplate its significance for hours, days, or weeks. In that sense, I have really only skimmed this book.
This is not dry theory, by any means. The wealth of practical examples he offers is amazing. I have to repeat one bit of reasoning about how the population of cats in an area affects how many flowers there are. Ready? The more cats there are, the fewer mice there are. Since mice gnaw on beehives and bother the bees, the fewer the mice, the more active the bees can be in the area. The more active the bees, the more pollen they can spread. And the more pollen they spread, the more flowers bloom. So, the more cats, the more flowers. Is that great?
Moron that I am in biology, I was surprised to find that there were things I know that Darwin didn't. He didn't know about Mendel's laws of inheritance, for example. Truth be told, I don't remember what these are, but I know that there are such laws, and Darwin didn't. I often found myself wishing that I could tell him about Mendel, DNA, radioactive dating of geological strata, mass extinctions, continental drift, and other topics.
One consequence of this for me, the biology moron, is that this book is pitched at just the right level to not lose me. He talks about animals and plants, things that even I can relate to. He doesn't – because he can't – delve into the biochemical stuff that always loses me. His writing is always concrete.
Having established his theory, and the usefulness of this theory in explaining the variety we observe in nature, Darwin brings up the difficulties of his own theory. This is the mark of the true scientist, as opposed to the partisan promoter. He recognizes that there are difficulties, and doesn't sweep them under the rug. Among the problems he discusses are the lack of fossils of in-between forms, how sterile insects can pass on their features, how complex organs (like eyes) come about, where complicated instinctive behaviors come from, and how similar species get distributed globally. In what I've read elsewhere, I've never seen a criticism of his theory that Darwin himself did not anticipate and address here.
Here's something interesting. I didn't notice the word "evolution" anywhere, for which I am grateful. I think that "evolution" is a terrible label for his theory of descent by natural selection. "Evolution" implies that something – some thing – is changing, which is not true. No animal changes into another animal. No dinosaur changes into a bird, no wolf changes into a Pekingese, no monkey changes into a human. The word "evolution" gives the wrong connotation entirely.
In the end, the book is absolutely convincing. The wealth of examples that Darwin presents, and the clarity and thoroughness of his discussion of his ideas, is compelling and persuasive. It's hard to imagine someone reading this book and saying, "Yeah, but." I am tempted to sum up by saying that a person either accepts the theory of natural selection or they have not read this book. And I now have that nifty cat story to tell at cocktail parties.
Notes and ideas I got from reading the book:
1. Individuals don't change. If anything can be said to change, it is the sum total of each species. Individual bunnies don't get faster. The slow bunnies get eaten, so the average speed of the bunnies increases. No bunny has changed, but the species of bunnies has changed.
2. Sometimes I think of a species as a team, like the Red Sox. If the Red Sox have problems with pitching, they acquire (hopefully) different and better pitchers. The current members of the Red Sox don't change into different and better pitchers: the team as a whole changes. It's still the same team, it's still the Red Sox, but the sum total of what the Red Sox is has changed.
Admittedly, this analogy breaks down because the Red Sox don't, to my knowledge, procreate to produce new Red Sox members, or die if they don't make the World Series. Still, I think it's useful to avoid the error of thinking that individuals change into other individuals.
3. When I was working on my doctoral dissertation, I learned a good deal about the differential and difference equations used to model predator-prey populations. One thing I learned was that you can adjust the parameters – which might represent how voracious the wolves are or how fast the bunnies reproduce – to get several varieties of solutions:
* Steady-state, meaning the proportions of wolves and bunnies stays pretty constant
* Periodic, meaning that sometimes the wolves eat nearly all the bunnies, die off rapidly from starvation, then bounce back after the bunnies bounce back, starting the whole cycle over again
* Chaotic, meaning that the populations vary unpredictably
For natural selection to work, the same conditions have to remain true for a long time, meaning that it must be a steady-state situation. However, there still must be risk of death if you don't have the right combination of features. Therefore, it might be possible to actually estimate the parameters for predators and prey in such situations.
4. Darwin makes a lot of observations using words like "The more X, the more Y." Part of me itches to take those kinds of statements and turn them into equations, which I feel that biology is sorely lacking.
5. Natural selection is something like positive and negative reinforcement in psychology. If a species is a certain way, nature gives it a cookie. Otherwise, an electric shock.
6. The amazing variety of life on Earth is due to the flexibility of DNA. All of the life we see is a manifestation of what DNA can produce. Isn't it miraculous that that is the case? Life could easily have begun as a one-celled organism that permitted no change whatsoever. There would be only one species. Darwin's explanation would have been unnecessary. Instead, look at all the life there is. Amazing.
7. Darwin, like Isaac Newton long before him, apparently was in no hurry to publish his work. It took outside convincing, and the prospect of others publishing before he did, to get him to complete this "sketch" of his ideas. The analogy with Newton goes further. The publication of their work totally transformed their branch of science. After Darwin, for example, the problems of classification turn into issues of genealogy. The influence of the amateur is also interesting. Newton and Darwin were gentleman speculators on the world. These days, hardly anything can be done by the talented amateur. You need 57 degrees for anyone to listen to you.
When it comes to subjects like biology and medicine, I am an absolute moron. I only barely avoided failing the one and only biology class I ever took, thanks to an absurd amount of extra-credit outside reading assignments and a science fair project that I still don't understand. I can never remember if DNA is made out of chromosomes or the other way around. Same with proteins and amino acids. I'm not a generally stupid person, but I do recognize my limits: biological matters are opaque to me.
It was with the hope of redeeming myself that I read "The Origin of Species". I felt that, if I could read and somewhat comprehend probably the most influential and controversial book ever written on biology, then I might once again be able to present myself in modern society without wearing a veil.
"The Origin of Species" sold out its entire first printing on the day of publication in 1859, largely because of its expected controversial contents. Darwin had written and spoken on such subjects for years, so the public anticipated some pretty scandalous stuff. The book is still considered controversial for several reasons. First, the theory that it presents appears to contradict the Biblical account of creation. (I say "appears" because it doesn't really. Anyone who genuinely believes in a strictly literal interpretation of Genesis, as opposed to a metaphorical interpretation, must necessarily also believe that Jesus actually was a door, a shepherd, a vine, a light, and a loaf of bread, which rather diminishes his or her credibility.) Second, it seems to contradict common sense ideas of inheritance: how can the offspring of a horse be anything but another horse? Third, it's kind of icky: we're essentially the same kind of things as slugs and worms: ewww. Fourth, it brings up uncomfortable ethical issues: if we're essentially the same kind of thing as the contents of a Happy Meal, how do we justify being the eaters and not the eatees? Finally, it's hard to comprehend that it's all true, in much the same way that it's hard to comprehend that we are all really blizzards of protons, neutrons, and electrons.
The book is very different from any science book I've ever read. Darwin is not lecturing from the podium of an auditorium. He's your learned friend sitting in the easy chair next to yours, probably in front of a cheerful fire after a nice dinner, telling you about some really interesting things he's seen and ideas he's had. Much of it is written in first person, which is very refreshing and personal.
It's clear that Darwin is multiple kinds of a genius. He's a lucid writer, with concise and telling expressions: he never uses two words if there's a single better one. He's also a gifted experimenter. He refers in many places to decades of clever experiments he's done with pigeons, bees, ants, grass, flowers, and other organisms, and you get the definite impression that these are only the tip of the iceberg of his accomplishments. Besides his deliberate experiments, he's also an amazing observational naturalist. He alludes to many things that he himself has witnessed, not only on his famous voyage around South America, but also on trips around England and Europe. In addition, he's an exhaustive and thorough researcher. The first part of the book is a review of everything (and I mean everything) written to that point on the subject. It's obvious that he's read everything available on the topic. Finally, he is an active correspondent with everyone doing related work or research at the time. He quotes the research and observations of numerous others, from some of the most famous scientists of his time to ordinary farmers who raise crops and animals for a living.
He begins by discussing the variations possible among members of the same species that are easily observable and are obviously deliberate, namely among domesticated animals and plants. This makes it clear that significant differences within a species are possible during only a few generations. This is what he calls "selection": deliberately choosing animals and plants for definite features, and encouraging these features.
He then expands his view to look at variation within nature, outside domestication. This allows him to bring up "natural selection": the conditions of nature favoring certain features over others. Organisms with good features are more likely to survive and reproduce. Organisms with bad features are unlikely to reproduce, and may become extinct.
Darwin packs a lot into his writing. His sentences are fireworks. Practically every one explodes off the page as a condensation of vast amounts of detailed research, or the statement of an amazing observation or theory. He consistently refers to this book as a "sketch," because he feels that he is not presenting all the detail he could on each point. But this is a sketch in the sense that Michelangelo's David is a rock. There is a vast and astonishing amount of detail in this book. Indeed, for me to say that I have "read" this book is not accurate. To truly appreciate this book, you would have to read one of his blockbuster sentences, then go off and contemplate its significance for hours, days, or weeks. In that sense, I have really only skimmed this book.
This is not dry theory, by any means. The wealth of practical examples he offers is amazing. I have to repeat one bit of reasoning about how the population of cats in an area affects how many flowers there are. Ready? The more cats there are, the fewer mice there are. Since mice gnaw on beehives and bother the bees, the fewer the mice, the more active the bees can be in the area. The more active the bees, the more pollen they can spread. And the more pollen they spread, the more flowers bloom. So, the more cats, the more flowers. Is that great?
Moron that I am in biology, I was surprised to find that there were things I know that Darwin didn't. He didn't know about Mendel's laws of inheritance, for example. Truth be told, I don't remember what these are, but I know that there are such laws, and Darwin didn't. I often found myself wishing that I could tell him about Mendel, DNA, radioactive dating of geological strata, mass extinctions, continental drift, and other topics.
One consequence of this for me, the biology moron, is that this book is pitched at just the right level to not lose me. He talks about animals and plants, things that even I can relate to. He doesn't – because he can't – delve into the biochemical stuff that always loses me. His writing is always concrete.
Having established his theory, and the usefulness of this theory in explaining the variety we observe in nature, Darwin brings up the difficulties of his own theory. This is the mark of the true scientist, as opposed to the partisan promoter. He recognizes that there are difficulties, and doesn't sweep them under the rug. Among the problems he discusses are the lack of fossils of in-between forms, how sterile insects can pass on their features, how complex organs (like eyes) come about, where complicated instinctive behaviors come from, and how similar species get distributed globally. In what I've read elsewhere, I've never seen a criticism of his theory that Darwin himself did not anticipate and address here.
Here's something interesting. I didn't notice the word "evolution" anywhere, for which I am grateful. I think that "evolution" is a terrible label for his theory of descent by natural selection. "Evolution" implies that something – some thing – is changing, which is not true. No animal changes into another animal. No dinosaur changes into a bird, no wolf changes into a Pekingese, no monkey changes into a human. The word "evolution" gives the wrong connotation entirely.
In the end, the book is absolutely convincing. The wealth of examples that Darwin presents, and the clarity and thoroughness of his discussion of his ideas, is compelling and persuasive. It's hard to imagine someone reading this book and saying, "Yeah, but." I am tempted to sum up by saying that a person either accepts the theory of natural selection or they have not read this book. And I now have that nifty cat story to tell at cocktail parties.
Notes and ideas I got from reading the book:
1. Individuals don't change. If anything can be said to change, it is the sum total of each species. Individual bunnies don't get faster. The slow bunnies get eaten, so the average speed of the bunnies increases. No bunny has changed, but the species of bunnies has changed.
2. Sometimes I think of a species as a team, like the Red Sox. If the Red Sox have problems with pitching, they acquire (hopefully) different and better pitchers. The current members of the Red Sox don't change into different and better pitchers: the team as a whole changes. It's still the same team, it's still the Red Sox, but the sum total of what the Red Sox is has changed.
Admittedly, this analogy breaks down because the Red Sox don't, to my knowledge, procreate to produce new Red Sox members, or die if they don't make the World Series. Still, I think it's useful to avoid the error of thinking that individuals change into other individuals.
3. When I was working on my doctoral dissertation, I learned a good deal about the differential and difference equations used to model predator-prey populations. One thing I learned was that you can adjust the parameters – which might represent how voracious the wolves are or how fast the bunnies reproduce – to get several varieties of solutions:
* Steady-state, meaning the proportions of wolves and bunnies stays pretty constant
* Periodic, meaning that sometimes the wolves eat nearly all the bunnies, die off rapidly from starvation, then bounce back after the bunnies bounce back, starting the whole cycle over again
* Chaotic, meaning that the populations vary unpredictably
For natural selection to work, the same conditions have to remain true for a long time, meaning that it must be a steady-state situation. However, there still must be risk of death if you don't have the right combination of features. Therefore, it might be possible to actually estimate the parameters for predators and prey in such situations.
4. Darwin makes a lot of observations using words like "The more X, the more Y." Part of me itches to take those kinds of statements and turn them into equations, which I feel that biology is sorely lacking.
5. Natural selection is something like positive and negative reinforcement in psychology. If a species is a certain way, nature gives it a cookie. Otherwise, an electric shock.
6. The amazing variety of life on Earth is due to the flexibility of DNA. All of the life we see is a manifestation of what DNA can produce. Isn't it miraculous that that is the case? Life could easily have begun as a one-celled organism that permitted no change whatsoever. There would be only one species. Darwin's explanation would have been unnecessary. Instead, look at all the life there is. Amazing.
7. Darwin, like Isaac Newton long before him, apparently was in no hurry to publish his work. It took outside convincing, and the prospect of others publishing before he did, to get him to complete this "sketch" of his ideas. The analogy with Newton goes further. The publication of their work totally transformed their branch of science. After Darwin, for example, the problems of classification turn into issues of genealogy. The influence of the amateur is also interesting. Newton and Darwin were gentleman speculators on the world. These days, hardly anything can be done by the talented amateur. You need 57 degrees for anyone to listen to you.
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