Buy or borrow this book! Support your local independent bookseller
Find it in a WorldCat library
Compare prices at major online bookstores
|
|
If you conjure demons, you fuel passion. But you miss what really inspires awe: the world as it is. So contends Carl Sagan. He should know. He recalls his astonishment when he first realized each star is a distant sun.
Here Sagan advocates for science. He contends skepticism, a fundamental element of science, provides as much intrigue as anyone can handle.
Start with skepticism about alien and ghost "sightings." Or, tackle "faces" in unexpected places: the surface of Mars, an eggplant resembling President Nixon. According to Sagan, our past holds the likely explanations for many oddities we "see."
For example, our ancestors found it downright useful-as in lifesaving-to fear the dark and stay close to mother at night. (Hence, imagined demons of all sorts kept little ones near). Moreover, an infant who could distinguish the pattern of a human face would emit a wail when snatched by a predator.
Largely by appealing to the sensational, sentimental, and statistical, Sagan urges critical thinking. Occasionally, he resorts to instructive silliness. Why, asks Sagan, do metallic implants, purportedly stuck high in the noses of alien abductees, get lost so easily? If such a device fell out of your nose, wouldn't you be inclined to keep it? Good questions, the sort a scientist would ask.
And scientists are found everywhere. Virtually identical methods are used to estimate the ages of hoof prints (Kung aborigines of South Africa) and craters (astronomers). If science is a logical way of knowing the world, it no less morally ambiguous than any other endeavor. Nevertheless, "where there is doubt there is freedom," reminds Sagan. So science thrives where citizens enjoy full liberties.
Yes, Sagan compresses a huge amount of material. But he mentions "billions" only once in a bit of self-deprecating humor. The book has the look and feel of a huge mosaic. Take it all in at once, or pick out a tessera for scrutiny.
Diane M. Calabrese is an entomologist and writer in Columbia, MO.
©1996, ProMotion, inc.