By Roy Herbert
LOOKlNG at television reports of conflict in the world, the latest being the fighting in Chechnya, shortage of weapons and ammunition is clearly not a problem for any side. Critical Mass by William Burrows and Robert Windram (Pocket Books, pp 573, £6.99) is a truly terrifying book, for it shows that, in time, it is probable that there will be no problem in obtaining nuclear, chemical and biological weapons either, along with the means to deliver them.
For religion, for national prestige and influence, for the ability to coerce others, for revenge, for sheer towering egotism – the motives for obtaining the appalling things are powerful and endless. And the technology and materials for producing them are on the market. We live in an age when weapons-grade plutonium is hawked around like bric-a-brac in a car boot sale. The authors lift the stone to reveal the hellish activities of the creatures underneath, fanatics, madmen, power-crazed dictators, arms manufacturers and dealers wading in money. Corruption and murder are incidental.
Since 1967, nuclear warfare has been breathtakingly near on at least six occasions. Is there anything that can be done to edge out of the danger before a catastrophe strikes? The authors suggest some possibilities, but optimism does not supervene. This is not a book to be read at bedtime.
IAN PLIMER is professor of geology at Melbourne University and an enemy of "creation science". The difference is that, instead of being polite and counter-punching, if punching at all, he comes out fighting from the first bell. His Telling Lies for God (Random House, pp 303, A$14.95) is both hilarious and serious at the same time, immensely readable. His stories of encounters with creation scientists in public debates make you wish you had been there. "I take the Broken Hill approach," he says. "You don't put up with bullshit and you take no prisoners." Promoting religion as part of school science is like arguing for equal time for witch-doctoring on a medical course. There is no page that doesn't have something striking to say, for example: "If creation 'science' is correct, geologists must ask why God has written one enormous and superfluous lie in the rocks." Oddly, he stubs his toe on the meaning of "turtles" in the Song of Solomon. The Anglican Archbishop of Brisbane contributes a foreword.
IN Riddles in Your Teacup by Partha Ghose and Dipankar Home (Institute of Physics Publishing, pp 173, £10.95/$22), you will find a collection of questions about everyday events that are apparently so trivial that few people give them any thought. Why does a candle blow out when it is being supplied with more air containing oxygen? Why does a kettle sing and stop singing when it boils? Why don't birds get electrocuted when perching on a power line? So far, you might conclude, so tiresome.
But these questions are framed so interestingly that they hold the attention. They are accompanied by amusing sketches and agreeable anecdotes about famous scientists who have actually thought about such phenomena and what often followed such – as a Nobel prize for Richard Feynman, springing from his observation of a spinning plate. A gentle, unusual and civilised production.
THE AUTHOR of The Missing Universe (Penguin Australia, pp 148, A$14.95), Graham Phillips, is a popular presenter of science programmes on Australian Television. His book tells you why. He is a dab hand at explaining the most complicated of scientific theories in language that keeps a reader alert, interested and amused. His section on the time/travel paradox that follows from Einstein's special theory of relativity is no less than a tour de force. Not only is it understandable, but it is also gripping. Each of the 12 sections shares these rare virtues. Pick and choose. His explanation of the phenomenon of so-called spontaneous combustion of human beings, which he doesn't believe in, might be a good place to start.
BEGINNING with a description of a day in the life of a married couple, Chemistry In Your Environment by Jack Barrett (Albion Publishing, Chichester, pp 247, £9.95) stresses its chemical basis. For instance, the couple finish the day with a drink of "an alcoholic French liquid which emitted bubbles of carbon dioxide" which you might need yourself after ploughing through to the end. Persevere. After that flat-footed opening, the rest of the book is an admirable simple course on chemistry. It demands concentration, but it will be rewarded.
A ONE VOLUME edition of Karl Popper's The Open Society and Its Enemies has been produced by Routledge (pp 766, £19.99). There is nothing that can be added here to what has been said about the work's profound importance and its influence on politics and scientific thought over half a century. A bargain at any price.
How to spot a bird in the bush
Escape from the clutches of the Machine