Tag: history of science

Book review: The Wood Age by Roland Ennos

My first book of 2023 is The Wood Age: How wood shaped the whole of human history by Roland Ennos, a history of wood and human society.

The book is divided into four parts “pre-human” history, up to the industrial era, the industrial era and “now and the future”.

Part one covers our ancestors’ life in the trees and descent from them. Ennos argues that nest building as practised by, for example, orangutans is a sophisticated and little recognised form of tool use and involves an understanding of the particular mechanical properties of wood. Descending from the trees, Ennos sees digging sticks and fire as important. Digging sticks are effective for rummaging roots out of the earth, which is handy if you moving away from the leaves and fruits of the canopy. Wood becomes harder with drying (hence making better digging sticks), and the benefits of cooking food with (wood-based) fire are well-reported. The start of controlled use of fire is unknown but could be as long ago as 2,000,000 years. The final step – hair loss in humans – Ennos attributes to the ability to build wooden shelters, this seems rather farfetched to me. I suspect this part of the book is most open to criticism since it covers a period well before writing, and with very little fossilised evidence of the key component.

The pre-human era featured some use of tools made from wood, and this continued into the “stone” age but on the whole wood is poorly preserved over even thousands of years. The oldest wooden tools discovered dates to 450,000 years ago – a spear found in Essex. The peak of tool making in the Neolithic is the bow and arrow – as measured by the number of steps required, and materials, required.

The next part of the book covers the period from the Neolithic through to the start of the Industrial Revolution. In this period ideas about farming spread to arboriculture, with the introduction of coppicing which produces high yields of fire wood, and wood for wicker which is a new way of crafting with wood. There is some detailed discussion on how wood burns, and how the introduction of charcoal, which burns hotter is essential to the success of the “metal” ages and progressing from earthenware pottery (porous and weak) to stoneware, which is basically glassy and requires a firing temperature of over 1000 celsius. As an aside, I found it jarring that Ennos quoted all temperatures in Fahrenheit!

This section has the air of describing a technology tree in a computer game. The ability to make metal tools, initially copper then bronze then iron then steel, opens up progressively better tools and more ways of working with wood, like sawing planks which can be used to make better boats than those constructed by hollowing out logs or splitting tree trunks. Interestingly the boats made by Romans were not surpassed in size until the 17th century.

Wheels turn out to be more complicated than I first thought, slicing a tree trunk into disks doesn’t work because the disks split in use (and in any case cutting cleanly across the grain of wood is hard without a steel-bladed saw). The first wheels, three planks cut into a circle and held together with battens, are not great. The peak of wheel building is the spoked wheel which requires steam bent circumference, turned spokes and a turned central hub with moderately sophisticated joints. Ennos argues that the reason South America never really took to wheels, and the Polynesians did not build plank built boats was a lack of metals appropriate for making tools.

Harder, steel tools also enabled the carpentry of seasoned timber – better for making furniture than greenwood which splits and deforms as it dries.

Ultimately the use of wood was not limited by the production of wood but rather by transport and skilled labour. The Industrial Revolution picks up when coal becomes the fuel of choice – making manufacturing easier, and allowing cities to grow larger.

The final substantive part of the book covers the Industrial Revolution up to the present. This is largely the story of the replacement of wood as fuel with coal, wood as charcoal (used in smelting) with coke (which is to coal what charcoal is to wood), and the replacement of many small wood items with metal, ceramic, glass and more recently plastic. It is not a uniform story though, England moved to coal as a fuel early in the 19th century – driven by an abundance of coal, a relative shortage of wood, and the growth of large cities. Other countries in Europe and the US moved more slowly. The US built its railways with wooden infrastructure (bridges and sleepers), rather than the stone used in Britain, for a much lower cost. The US still tends to build domestic buildings in wood. The introduction of machine made nails and screws in the late 18th century makes construction in wood a lower skilled activity. Paper based on wood was invented around 1870, making newspapers and books much cheaper.

In the 21st century wood and processed-wood like plywood or chipboard are still used for many applications.

The final part of the book is a short look into the future, mainly from the point of view of re-forestation. I found this a bit odd because it starts complaining about the “deforestation myth” but then goes on to outline when humans caused significant deforestation and soil erosion damage.!

Ennos sees wood as an under-reported factor in the evolution of humanity, but authors often feel their topic is under-reported. I suppose this is inevitable since these are people so passionate about their topic that they have devoted their energy to writing a whole book about it.

This is a nice read, not too taxing but interesting.

Book review: Dutch Light by Hugh Aldersey-Williams

dutch_lightIt’s taken me a while but my next review is of Dutch Light: Christian Huygens and the making of science in Europe by Hugh Aldersey-Williams.

I have read a biography of Christiaan Huygens – Huygens – the man behind the principle by C.D. Andriesse, this was a little over 10 years ago so it says something about my memory that I came to Aldersey-Williams book fairly fresh!

Huygens was born in 1629 and died in 1695, so after Galileo (1564 – 1642) and RenĂ© Descartes (1596-1650) but before Isaac Newton (1642-1726).

Huygens came from a relatively prestigious family his father, Constantijn was an important diplomat as was his brother (also Constantijn, the Huygens reused forenames heavily!). The family had a broad view of education and his father and brothers were brought up to appreciate, and make, art, music, and drawing as well as learning more academic subjects. Christiaan’s scientific collaboration with his brother continued throughout his life – mainly focussed on lens grinding.

This practical turn had an impact on Huygen’s scientific work, he made the lenses and telescopes that he used to discover the rings of Saturn, and his discovery was sealed with the beautifully drafted illustrations of Saturn’s rings seen at varying orientations relative to earth. It had been known since Galileo’s time that there was something odd about Saturn but telescope technology was such that the rings were not clearly resolved, furthermore as earth changes position relative to Saturn we view the rings at different angles which changes their appearance which added to the confusion over their nature. Having hypothesised that the structures around Saturn were rings, Huygens was able to predict (successfully) when the rings would be oriented edge on to earth and hence disappear.

The Netherlands has given birth to more than its share of astronomers, Aldersey-Williams discusses whether this is a special feature of the landscape: big open skies with reflecting water, material resources – abundant high quality sand for glass/lens making or the culture – in particular the Dutch school of art from the period. He doesn’t come to a firm conclusion on this but gives the book its title.

Huygens work on telescopes and Saturn also led to his more theoretical work on a wave theory of optics and the “Huygens Principle”, something I learnt at school.

Aside from his practical work on astronomy, Huygens was a very capable mathematician – respected by Newton and Leibniz. His work pre-figured some of Newton’s later work, he led the way in describing nature, and observations, with mathematical equations. A was a transitional figure at the cusp of the Scientific Revolution, a pioneer of described observed phenomena using maths – diverging from Descartes who believed that nature could be explained by the power of pure thought.

Huygens also worked on clocks, largely in relation to the problem of the longitude, again this is an example of a combination of practical design skills and mathematical understanding. His main contributions in this area were modifications of pendulum clocks to be more accurate and the invention of a spring driven oscillator – more robust than pendulum driven clocks at sea. In the end his contributions were not sufficient to solve the problem of the longitude, and he also fell out with Hooke over the invention of the spring drive. He also had a dispute with Huret, the clockmaker who implemented his designs. But if you were working in science in the 17th century and didn’t fall out with Hooke, what sort of scientist were you?!

“…the making of science in Europe” in the title of this book refers to Huygens international activities. He was a founding member of the French Academie des Science, courted specifically by its prime mover – Jean-Baptiste Colbert, living in Paris for 16 years between 1666-1672. Colbert’s successor was not as favourable disposed towards Huygens, and when Colbert died in 1683 he left the Academie. Huygens also met and corresponded with scientists in London, at the Royal Society and elsewhere, and across the rest of Europe. This was a time when discoveries, and experimental techniques were being shared more often, if not universally.

Andriesse and Aldersey-Williams both ask why Huygens is not more famous when compared particularly to Newton. I’ve thought about this a bit since reading Andriesse’s book and come to the tentative conclusion that figures like Galileo, Newton, Einstein and Hawking are not famous scientists. They are famous, and they happen to be scientists, they are symbols for a period not necessarily rooted in scientific achievement. Newton was promoted very heavily after his death by the English, and prior to his death he was not only a scientist but also Warden of the Royal Mint, and briefly an MP.

I enjoyed this book more than the Andriesse biography, in both cases it felt that there was perhaps a scarcity of material for Huygens life which led to a great deal of discussion around Huygens father, to the extent that in the early pages it wasn’t clear whether references to Huygens were to Christiaan or his father Constantijn.

Book review: Curious devices and mighty machines by Samuel J.M.M. Alberti

albertiThis review is of Curious devices and might machines: Exploring Science Museums by Samuel J.M.M. Alberti. I picked this up because I follow a number of history of science and museum people on Twitter. One downside of this is that these are the sort of people that get sneak previews of such books, leaving us mortals a long wait before we get our hands on them!

There are a couple of thousand science museums around the world, out of a total of 30,000 museums globally. About a fifth of the population visits a science museum every year. In the UK the Science Museum Groups gets about 6 million visits a year. Around 100,000 visits a year are required for a museum to be economically viable. There is an overlap between science museums and the more recently instituted "exploratoriums". Science museums have always been technology and science museums, with artefacts actually biased towards the former. Science museum exhibits can be massive (whole aeroplanes and steam engines), they can be commonplace (for example one of billions of mobile phones) and unlike most museums it is not unusual for the public to be able to handle selected parts of the collection. 

The first science museums came into being out of the personal "cabinets of curiosities" found in the Renaissance, they became public institutions in the 18th and 19th century. They were often founded to demonstrate a country’s technological prowess, or provide training for a workforce as the Industrial Revolution occurred. Sometimes scientific workplaces became museums by the passage of time, this was certainly true of the (New) Cavendish Laboratory where I once worked – the spacious corridor outside the suite of labs I worked in contained a collection of objects including James Clarke Maxwell’s desk and some of his models of mathematical functions. It was striking how scientific apparatus transitioned from finely crafter objects in the 19th century to rather more utilitarian designs in the early 20th century. Frank Oppenheimer (brother of Robert Oppenheimer) founded the first Exploratorium in San Francisco in 1969.

Perhaps a little surprisingly, science museum collections have not historically been formed systematically. The London Science Museum started, alongside the Victoria and Albert Museum, with objects from the Great Exhibition, and was boosted by part of the (enormous) Henry Wellcome collection. More recently curators have been proactive – cultivating collectors and research and industry institutions. Acquisition by purchase at auction is less common than in the art museum world but not completely unknown. Sometimes museums will make public appeals for objects, for example during the recent COVID pandemic. It has always been the case that documents, and more recently software and other digital artefacts greatly outnumber "physical" objects. Digital artefacts represent a challenge since for most modern scientific equipment to be useable the software required to run the equipment is required, and speaking from experience it can be challenging to get the software running whilst the equipment is in working use. These documents are either artefacts in their own right (for example railway posters) or documentation relating to a particular object.

Like icebergs much of a science museum collection is away from public view in increasingly specialised storage facilities. Alberti is keen to highlight the vitality and dynamism of storage facilities, curators in general appear reluctant to refer to stores as "stores"! Stores are places where research and conservation happen, sometimes there are hazards to be managed – legacy radioactive materials are an issue both in museums and also in currently operational labs.

Museums present objects in long term exhibitions, and shorter, more focused exhibitions which may move from museum to museum. Exhibitions can be object-led or story-led, and the human stories are an important element. Science museums attract a wide age range. Pierre Boudieu makes an appearance here, as my wife completes her (Doctorate of Education) Bourdieu has been a constant occupant of the mental space of our home. His relevance here is the idea of "scientific capital" to parallel Bourdieu’s "cultural capital". "Scientific capital" refers to all the scientific touch points and knowledge you might have, I have demonstrated my "scientific capital" above, citing my experiences in word class research laboratories, and experience with scientific research. As a scientist from a very young age science museums have been my natural home but this is in large part due to my family rather than formal education.

The book finishes with a chapter on campaigning with collections, covering climate change, racism and colonialism, disability, and mis-information. Museums are held in high regard in terms of confidence in the information they provide, although they see their role more in teaching scientific literacy – supported by the objects they hold – rather than trying to megaphone facts. Many collections contain objects with morally dubious histories, as white Western countries we have typically ignored these issues – the Black Lives Matter movement means this is starting to change.

I think the best way of placing this is as a social history of the science museum – the author cites Richard Fortey’s Dry Store Room 1 as a model/inspiration and talks of the book as a "curator confessional", an entertaining enough read but rather specialist.

Book review: Eye of the Beholder by Laura J. Snyder

A return to more traditional fare with snyderEye of the Beholder by Laura J. Snyder. This is a collective biography of Johannes Vermeer and Antonie van Leeuwenhoek who were both born in Delft in 1632. Vermeer, a painter, lived for 43 years and Leeuwenhoek most famous as a microscopist lived for 91 years. Alongside the stories of their lives, Snyder also talks about the events in Delft, and the wider Netherlands, and the evolving understanding of optical phenomena that is relevant to both painting and microscopy.

A theme of the book is the idea that Vermeer and Leeuwenhoek knew each other, and possibly knew each other quite well – with their expertise feeding in to each other. This is a link that Snyder has discovered, and is somewhat circumstantial since there is no direct evidence of correspondence between the two men. The main evidence for the assertion is that Leeuwenhoek acted as executor to Vermeer’s estate, some have seen this as no particular evidence since Leeuwenhoek was a public official who might be expected to take on this role. But he only did this for four people, three of whom had known personal links. The other piece of evidence is that they lived within a few hundred yards of each other in a relatively small city and shared common interests in optical phenomena so very likely knew each other, they both knew Constantijn Huygens. In some ways the existence of a personal link is not important, rather the drawing together of technologies of camera obscura and microscopes as new ways to see and understand the world.

I note that as someone who has worked both as a microscopist and in photorealistic computer graphics this book is particularly close to my interests, and strikes a chord with me. One of the challenges of microscopy is understanding what on earth you are seeing, and photorealistic computer graphics brings in to sharp focus the mechanisms by which an image is formed. Even now, three hundred years after Vermeer and Leeuwenhoek, specialists in these fields will have undergone a personal journey of discovery where they sought out the thing they were looking for down the eyepiece of a microscope (possibly spending more time than they’d admit focused on the top surface of the coverslip rather than the sample). In photorealistic computer graphics rendering forgetting to include a light in their model and pointed the virtual camera in the wrong direction, leading to a completely black image are not uncommon beginners mistakes.

In the 17th century the Netherlands was a hotbed of scientific discovery, trade and art – the so-called Golden Age which had started in 1588 and came to an end in 1672 with the Franco-Dutch War. Despite much scientific work, the Netherlands were not to have a scientific society like the the Royal Society until the 18th century. Private art was commonplace in 17th century Netherlands, Snyder associates this with religious sensibilities – as a protestant nation the Dutch did not favour extravagant public, religious art but compensated with art in their own homes. On average each Delft household had two paintings. Also relevant to the story is the fact that the Dutch had only recently started adopting surnames in the 17th century, and it seems in the beginning they were often chosen thoughtfully which is alien to the modern mind for whom surnames are generally a given.

In Delft the biggest event of the book is the "Delft Thunderclap" in 1654, an explosion at a gunpowder store that killed over a hundred people and injured thousands more.

The camera obscura is the focus of the artist side of the story, it had been invented some time around the 13th century, and it was to join other optical aids for artists. A camera obscura is basically a box with a hole in it (originally room sized), where an image of what lies outside the box is projected onto a wall. Hyperrealism though the use of the camera obscura was something of a passing fad, Da Vinci had been scornful of the use of such aids, and there usage was something of a trade secret for artists. By the 17th century the camera obscura had evolved from a simple room with light entering through a hole to a system, possibly even a portable box featuring mirrors and lenses. The camera obscura allowed the artist to capture the geometry of a scene by copying the projected image (indeed camera obscura were also used by surveyors). What’s more by separating the image from the scene it served as a tool to better understand how light interacted with materials. Vermeer’s work shows signs of his use of the camera obscura from the late 1650s.

This is not to diminish the skill of a painter, it struck me that Vermeer’s style had elements in common with the much later Impressionists with subtle uses of colour and line being used to give the impression of a scene rather than painting and exact replica to the canvas.

Vermeer was to die in 1675 at the age of only 43, 1672 "Rampjaar" had left him close to destitute as the art market collapsed, and he had 11 children to provide for. He left behind only 45 paintings from his 20 year career.

The microscope is the focus of Leeuwenhoek’s side of the story, the microscope had been invented in the early part of the 17th century but was not much used until much later in the century with Robert Hooke’s magnificent book Micrographia showing what it could achieve. Leeuwenhoek’s microscopes are quite different from those we use today, they are simple spherical lenses mounted in metal plates smaller than playing cards. Leeuwenhoek’s skill was persistent and careful observation over a period of 40 or so years, reported to the Royal Society in London in over 300 letters. He discovered microbes, red corpuscles in blood, as well as the wriggling tails of sperm amongst much else. He studied the inner workings of things rather than just the surface appearance, as Robert Hooke had done. His preparation of samples equals those prepared today. I recall that Leeuwenhoek was long ignored in the history of microscopy because his work was so much in advance of anything for years after his death and he kept his methods secret, although Snyder makes no mention of this so perhaps I mis-remember.

I really liked this combination of biography, national history and history of ideas. Snyder’s style is warm and clear, I also enjoyed her earlier "The Philosophical Breakfast Club".

Book review: The clock and the camshaft by John Farrell

camshaftThe clock and the camshaft by John Farrell is the story of technology through the Middle Ages which went on to support the Renaissance and the Scientific Revolution.

The book is structured by invention, and although some of the inventions are technologies as we would generally understand them there are also chapters on universities and monasteries, and languages. Each chapter looks at the ancient antecedents of a technology, where there is one, before looking at its place in the Middle Ages and how it played on to the Renaissance that followed. The antecedents are typically in the Roman Empire, China and the Middle East. The overall structure of the book is reminiscent of the technology “trees” one finds in a certain sort of computer game (Civilisation/Age of Empires).

There was a huge drop in population after the end of the Roman Empire in Europe in the 5th century CE until the 9th or 10th century. People no longer lived in towns or cities, and the art of building with stone appears to have been lost across much of Europe.

Food is a core concern at anytime and there were a couple of technological developments during the Middle Ages which helped here. The plough, used in the Mediterranean, was developed to better suit heavy Northern European soils. Horses were adopted to pull ploughs through the development of horse shoes and suitable harnesses.

In the Middle East water wheels were used in irrigation, from several centuries BCE. In Northern Europe irrigation was not quite such a concern but water wheels for power, in the first instance for milling wheat were important. This is not a simple technological development, for most individuals working the land it is convenient to hand mill wheat for your own consumption – a water powered mill is not worth the effort in maintenance or in initial capital outlay. This is where feudalism and monasteries get involved, feudal barons and monasteries can build and maintain a mill economically and they have subjects whose grain can be milled, for a price. Feudal masters obliged their subjects to use their mills, and pay a tariff to do so and under threat of punishment if they were found to be milling their own grain.

Once you have something that goes round and round, driven by a water or wind mill, then the next step is something that goes forwards and backwards. Or, more prosaically, converting rotation motion to linear motion. This might be to power a saw, or more often, to hammer things. Hammering things is important in the production of cloth (fulling), paper (pulping), and metal (crushing ore).Who would have thought hammering things was so important?

Paper is another key technology, the earliest writing is found in clay which was then superseded by papyrus – produced almost exclusively in Egypt. For rough notes codexes were used – parallel thin pieces of wood tied together. In Europe, after the fall of the Roman Empire, parchment made from the skins of goats or calves was used but this required a lot of dead animals. Meanwhile in China paper made from rags was being developed. This innovation was developed in Europe too, this arrival was key for new businesses. Now tradespeople could write things down relatively freely, critical for banking, and important in other businesses.

The challenge with clocks is to allow an power source to release its energy at a steady rate, this is done using an “escapement” mechanism. The first mechanical clocks were recorded in Europe towards the end of the 13th century.

Having forgotten how to build with stone at the end of the Roman Empire the cathedrals of the Middle Ages, built mostly in the 12th and 13th centuries were a sign that the skill of building with stone had been rediscovered. They were an evolution of Roman designs for grand buildings which allowed for much greater light through the insertion of windows. They followed the stone built castles of the Norman period around 1000 CE. Cathedrals are a rather more complex building than a castle but castles provided a good training ground.

Religion provided the impetuous for collecting manuscripts from the Arab world, during the 12th and 13th centuries with a view to improving their astronomic determinations of the date of Easter. Along the way they collected other manuscripts, returning to Spain and Italy to translate them.

Eye lenses were introduced in the first half of the 12th century, and appeared to evolve from glass used to display relics. There were antecedents of lenses found in ancient Egypt even back to the Bronze Age. The Venetians were early specialists in glass making, founding a guild in 1320. There was also expertise north of the Alps in Nurembourg but the quality of ground lenses dropped from 1500 with the first telescope makers towards the end of the century making their own lenses rather than buying them.

Monasteries, and monks, played an important role in carry knowledge across the Middle Ages after the fall of the Roman Empire. They were also important players in the material world, taking the part of a sort of feudal lord in some instances. Universities were in some senses a spin off from the collision between the Church and the Secular state, they arose originally as a place to study law – a topic which came to the fore in disputes between the Church and secular states over which had legal authority. Universities and monasteries are both examples of legal entities which were not people, an important innovation in law.

The book finishes with a chapter on lodestones which lead to the development of compasses for navigation, astrolabes and boats. Astrolabes were designed for astronomical measurement but also served as timekeepers, their design fed into the layout of the clock face. Boats were another technology which evolved as it moved north, the key innovation was switching to a skeleton-based design where the keel and ribs were laid down first, and then planks attached to them.

I liked this little book, much of what I’ve read in the history of science covers a later period – from the 17th century onward – The Clock and the Camshaft provides useful background, and is also very readable.