Book 55: Hiroshima Boy by Naomi Hirahara. I could seriously read Mas Arai almost every day. Much more reflective ending than the other Mas Arai novels.
One calendar year, 55 books read, easily my personal best. I can definitely say I have a preference for non-fiction at this point. Within that non-fiction, I can definitely say I have a preference for personal stories and essays, though many weighty issues capture me too. Amongst fiction, I definitely have a deeper appreciation for Asian American writers. The voice in their heads that they commit to the page is the same as the voice inside my head I haven't yet cultivated onto the page. Though I'm sure I'd find differences eventually, there's a lot of reading and writing between then and now.
I will say that to reach this book-a-week goal, I took more than a little time from other pursuits. Those pursuits will re-capture some of that time now. Audiobooks during the commute are definitely an easy keeper. Other books will have a little more competition for my time than they did in 2019.
Sunday, January 12, 2020
Friday, January 10, 2020
2019, Book 52 and 54: Dead Blondes and Bad Mothers, and Trainwreck by Sady Doyle
Book 49: The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot. Fascinating intersection of science and human interest. We owe a lot to Henrietta Lacks's cancer cells. Will the debt ever be paid?
Book 50: Seven Necessary Sins for Women and Girls by Mona Eltahawy. Had high hopes for this one and some of them were met. Seemed mostly interested in shock value.
Book 51: Whitewashed Adobe by William Deverell. The Mexican past of Los Angeles was largely hidden from view for a long time, even though it's right out in the open. Some light is shed here.
Book 52: Dead Blondes and Bad Mothers by Sady Doyle. See below.
Book 53: On the Clock by Emily Guendelsberger. A modern-day Nickel and Dimed (Barbara Ehrenreich). It's astonishing in a frightening way how much more mechanized and robotic things have gotten in such a short time.
Book 54: Trainwreck by Sady Doyle
The two books I read by Sady Doyle really opened my eyes to just how misogynist America is. These books bring genuine clarity to what was only a hazy impression before. Sure, I know about the gender wage gap, I know about how sexual assault isn't taken nearly as seriously as it should be, I know the current POTUS rode in on a wave of white nationalism and misogyny; but to see how deeply it had been baked into my life from birth was a jolt. There is takedown after takedown of many pieces of entertainment that formed the bedrock of my childhood and identity. Now, seeing them for what they are, it's hard to see how I missed it.
Then again, that's the whole idea of patriarchy. It's not supposed to be seen. It's not supposed to label itself and state its case with clear, cold logic. It can't. Because there isn't any that could stand open scrutiny. It's supposed to make you just hate Britney Spears (or Miley Cyrus or Taylor Swift) the woman after she's no longer Britney Spears (or Miley Cyrus or Taylor Swift) the girl because patriarchy holds that women are monsters and need to be controlled but girls are innocent*. Why else does our media machine crucify both Hillary Clinton AND Monica Lewinsky but more or less leaves Bill alone? It's entire intent is to convince women they need to adhere to mens' visions of them even when that vision shifts and changes and takes contradictory forms, one set of men screaming at you to take your clothes off while another screams at you for doing so, even if it was done in what would normally be considered privacy (eg hotel room or at home).
These two books have served as perhaps the largest-yet collective step towards deprogramming patriarchy from my system. The direct illustrations from movies and TV I had somewhat warm feelings towards really drove the point home regarding just how pervasive it is. Hopefully, I can do better.
* -- I was a bit surprised the books made no mention of Madonna.
Book 50: Seven Necessary Sins for Women and Girls by Mona Eltahawy. Had high hopes for this one and some of them were met. Seemed mostly interested in shock value.
Book 51: Whitewashed Adobe by William Deverell. The Mexican past of Los Angeles was largely hidden from view for a long time, even though it's right out in the open. Some light is shed here.
Book 52: Dead Blondes and Bad Mothers by Sady Doyle. See below.
Book 53: On the Clock by Emily Guendelsberger. A modern-day Nickel and Dimed (Barbara Ehrenreich). It's astonishing in a frightening way how much more mechanized and robotic things have gotten in such a short time.
Book 54: Trainwreck by Sady Doyle
The two books I read by Sady Doyle really opened my eyes to just how misogynist America is. These books bring genuine clarity to what was only a hazy impression before. Sure, I know about the gender wage gap, I know about how sexual assault isn't taken nearly as seriously as it should be, I know the current POTUS rode in on a wave of white nationalism and misogyny; but to see how deeply it had been baked into my life from birth was a jolt. There is takedown after takedown of many pieces of entertainment that formed the bedrock of my childhood and identity. Now, seeing them for what they are, it's hard to see how I missed it.
Then again, that's the whole idea of patriarchy. It's not supposed to be seen. It's not supposed to label itself and state its case with clear, cold logic. It can't. Because there isn't any that could stand open scrutiny. It's supposed to make you just hate Britney Spears (or Miley Cyrus or Taylor Swift) the woman after she's no longer Britney Spears (or Miley Cyrus or Taylor Swift) the girl because patriarchy holds that women are monsters and need to be controlled but girls are innocent*. Why else does our media machine crucify both Hillary Clinton AND Monica Lewinsky but more or less leaves Bill alone? It's entire intent is to convince women they need to adhere to mens' visions of them even when that vision shifts and changes and takes contradictory forms, one set of men screaming at you to take your clothes off while another screams at you for doing so, even if it was done in what would normally be considered privacy (eg hotel room or at home).
These two books have served as perhaps the largest-yet collective step towards deprogramming patriarchy from my system. The direct illustrations from movies and TV I had somewhat warm feelings towards really drove the point home regarding just how pervasive it is. Hopefully, I can do better.
* -- I was a bit surprised the books made no mention of Madonna.
Thursday, January 9, 2020
2019, Book 46 and 48: Assata by Assata Shakur and Adnan's Story by Rabia Chaudry
Book 45: Badlands by Cynthia Reeves. Linked tweet pretty much says it all.
Book 46: Assata: An Autobiography by Assata Shakur. See below.
Book 47: Where the Water Goes by David Owen. Water rights are weird, but necessary. A decent chunk of the country's land is served by the Colorado River basin. The book tells how.
Book 48: Adnan's Story by Rabia Chaudry.
Like many, I became aware of Adnan's story through the podcast Serial. If you became interested in Adnan's case, this is definitely a book for you. There is far more detail and history in this book than they were able to put into Serial and it blows apart the notion that there's any real justice in this case. Combined with reading Assata immediately before, it has become clear to me that our law enforcement, our courts, our prosecutors and our system of imprisonment is broken. Convictions are pursued with more fervor than the truth; and when powerful people have an agenda, they will ruin lives in pursuit of that agenda.
In the case of Adnan Syed, representation initially did not pursue an alibi. When the perfect alibi witness took the stand after the initial trial, the State of Maryland still deemed Adnan guilty beyond reasonable doubt. They had their conviction, they'd be damned if they'd let a technicality like an alibi get in the way of keeping it.
In the case of Assata Shakur, trumped up charge after trumped up charge kept her in prison without a conviction for years upon years of her life. Immediately after being released from one jurisdiction because she was found innocent or had charges dropped, some other jurisdiction somewhere was ready to put her behind bars to start the whole charade over. It took a case where the judge cut off funding for her expert witnesses mid-trial to finally get a conviction.
Adnan Syed is still in prison, approaching 20 years for a crime where he has an alibi. Assata Shakur fled to Cuba and still has a $2M bounty on her head. These are just two cases in which the system failed initially and continues to fail. There are many more (West Memphis Three, Emmett Till, etc) and more come up everyday that don't get book deals. I once heard Ta-Nahisi Coates say he didn't know enough about ending prisons to know if it's a good idea, but that he's as open to it now as he's ever been. I find myself increasingly feeling the same about our criminally unjust criminal justice system.
Book 46: Assata: An Autobiography by Assata Shakur. See below.
Book 47: Where the Water Goes by David Owen. Water rights are weird, but necessary. A decent chunk of the country's land is served by the Colorado River basin. The book tells how.
Book 48: Adnan's Story by Rabia Chaudry.
Like many, I became aware of Adnan's story through the podcast Serial. If you became interested in Adnan's case, this is definitely a book for you. There is far more detail and history in this book than they were able to put into Serial and it blows apart the notion that there's any real justice in this case. Combined with reading Assata immediately before, it has become clear to me that our law enforcement, our courts, our prosecutors and our system of imprisonment is broken. Convictions are pursued with more fervor than the truth; and when powerful people have an agenda, they will ruin lives in pursuit of that agenda.
In the case of Adnan Syed, representation initially did not pursue an alibi. When the perfect alibi witness took the stand after the initial trial, the State of Maryland still deemed Adnan guilty beyond reasonable doubt. They had their conviction, they'd be damned if they'd let a technicality like an alibi get in the way of keeping it.
In the case of Assata Shakur, trumped up charge after trumped up charge kept her in prison without a conviction for years upon years of her life. Immediately after being released from one jurisdiction because she was found innocent or had charges dropped, some other jurisdiction somewhere was ready to put her behind bars to start the whole charade over. It took a case where the judge cut off funding for her expert witnesses mid-trial to finally get a conviction.
Adnan Syed is still in prison, approaching 20 years for a crime where he has an alibi. Assata Shakur fled to Cuba and still has a $2M bounty on her head. These are just two cases in which the system failed initially and continues to fail. There are many more (West Memphis Three, Emmett Till, etc) and more come up everyday that don't get book deals. I once heard Ta-Nahisi Coates say he didn't know enough about ending prisons to know if it's a good idea, but that he's as open to it now as he's ever been. I find myself increasingly feeling the same about our criminally unjust criminal justice system.
Tuesday, January 7, 2020
2019, Book 44: The Leavers by Lisa Ko
Book 40: Blues People by Leroi Jones. The pattern of white people commercializing black music and claiming it for themselves goes back a long while.
Book 41: Giving by Bill Clinton. Certain presidents stop when they're out of office. Bill Clinton never has.
Book 42: Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell. Conclusions aren't always academically rigorous, but some very interesting facts and patterns to be had here.
Book 43: Meaty by Samantha Irby. Still laughing. Still funny. Samantha Irby is the funniest.
Book 44: The Leavers by Lisa Ko
I'd always thought that hearing yourself in a story making it more meaningful was kind of a garbage way to look at things. I mean, as a reader, shouldn't you be meeting the author half-way and doing your best to step into the heads of the characters created? On a purely philosophical level, perhaps that's true. However, I've discovered through John Okada, Naomi Hirahara and now Lisa Ko that it simply isn't. There is something about the Asian American experience (east Asian specifically) that really is unique. Hearing that very familiar voice definitely draws me in.
That voice really permeates every word of this book. It's impossible to read a paragraph without becoming more familiar with that Asian American experience. That alone makes this book a worthwhile read. However, what really gets me about this one is the ending. So often, strands are tied up so nicely and neatly and things either go perfectly or fall completely apart. I hate that. So many books where I relish how realistic and believable it is end with this completely unrealistic and only barely believable binary result. Even Octavia Butler, whose work I do highly recommend, concludes the Parables series this way.
It's pretty rare life works out so cleanly and neatly with such tidy moral lessons. I like that Ko leaves a bit of a mess at the end. There are definitely lessons in The Leavers and those are not so messy for anyone wanting to do more than a cursory reading. At their broadest, they address breaking apart families, how to deal with the kids once the families are broken apart and what it's like to get all the physical and mental nurturing one could ask for while none of the emotional and cultural nurturing. When mother and child are forcibly separated, there are wounds that need special attention. This book is enjoyable at this level, at the level of story, at the level of characters and, as noted, at the level of voice. I found this book just plain enjoyable, through the sadness and yearning and discovery.
Book 41: Giving by Bill Clinton. Certain presidents stop when they're out of office. Bill Clinton never has.
Book 42: Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell. Conclusions aren't always academically rigorous, but some very interesting facts and patterns to be had here.
Book 43: Meaty by Samantha Irby. Still laughing. Still funny. Samantha Irby is the funniest.
Book 44: The Leavers by Lisa Ko
I'd always thought that hearing yourself in a story making it more meaningful was kind of a garbage way to look at things. I mean, as a reader, shouldn't you be meeting the author half-way and doing your best to step into the heads of the characters created? On a purely philosophical level, perhaps that's true. However, I've discovered through John Okada, Naomi Hirahara and now Lisa Ko that it simply isn't. There is something about the Asian American experience (east Asian specifically) that really is unique. Hearing that very familiar voice definitely draws me in.
That voice really permeates every word of this book. It's impossible to read a paragraph without becoming more familiar with that Asian American experience. That alone makes this book a worthwhile read. However, what really gets me about this one is the ending. So often, strands are tied up so nicely and neatly and things either go perfectly or fall completely apart. I hate that. So many books where I relish how realistic and believable it is end with this completely unrealistic and only barely believable binary result. Even Octavia Butler, whose work I do highly recommend, concludes the Parables series this way.
It's pretty rare life works out so cleanly and neatly with such tidy moral lessons. I like that Ko leaves a bit of a mess at the end. There are definitely lessons in The Leavers and those are not so messy for anyone wanting to do more than a cursory reading. At their broadest, they address breaking apart families, how to deal with the kids once the families are broken apart and what it's like to get all the physical and mental nurturing one could ask for while none of the emotional and cultural nurturing. When mother and child are forcibly separated, there are wounds that need special attention. This book is enjoyable at this level, at the level of story, at the level of characters and, as noted, at the level of voice. I found this book just plain enjoyable, through the sadness and yearning and discovery.
Monday, January 6, 2020
2019, Book 39: Cosmos by Carl Sagan
Book 38: The Loved One by Evelyn Waugh. A cheeky little number.
Book 39: Cosmos by Carl Sagan.
I had always envisioned this book to be a wimpy, little, text-only book barely as involved as a pithy sci-fi novel. You must admit that if the only copies of Cosmos you ever saw were the one circled in green below, you might think the same thing:
It really just looks like any old mini-paperback. How much useful information could an author pack in such a tiny space? As a result, every time someone mentioned the book Cosmos to me, I sort of scoffed. Then, in my favorite used book store, I saw a paperback version of this:
Whaaaaaat? I never even knew this coffee-table version existed. I flipped through it and saw hundreds of full-color photos and illustrations as well as technical diagrams. Why had I only seen the wimpy version? I'm going to go with the large versions of the book sold so well, that it only left the smaller versions for the bookshelves I had previously frequented.
Carl Sagan himself and this book in particular have been so pervasive in science writing that there's little analysis I can give that probably hasn't been given before. Sagan is a great communicator. Sagan is a great scientist. Sagan channels one into the other so easily, it's truly remarkable. Etc. Etc.
I do find two things from the book particularly meaningful at this juncture in time, 39 years after both the publication of this book and the broadcast of the accompanying TV show. First is that there have been more than a few moments in history where humans have felt threatened by scientific advancement and achievement to the point of intentionally destroying knowledge. I find the story around Hypatia and the decline of the Library of Alexandria the most troubling. There seem to be similar rumblings in the current state of the world and I hope we manage to avert something so disgusting. Luckily, with the Internet, collective knowledge is unlikely to be harmed significantly by the loss of any single institution.
The second thing I found meaningful was that the combination of hugging infants and toddlers and allowing teens to explore their sexuality were the two strongest indicators for a non-violent society. I'd always had suspicions that general uptightness and the particular uptightness around sex led to serious assholery. This was the first time I'd seen it substantiated, which in itself isn't remarkable. I'm sure there's plenty of literature out there on the topic. What's remarkable is that this comes up in a book that is trying to thoughtfully place humanity in Universe and advocating for humanity not restricting itself to planet Earth. That is the magic of Carl Sagan, above all else. Going to other planets and other stars is indeed a scientific and engineering endeavor; but it is also a human endeavor and will necessarily be a collaborative, social endeavor. We endeavor to explore. We endeavor to create. And we achieve our greatest endeavors when we can peaceably work together. This has become increasingly true as science has progressed, with projects like LIGO and the LHC requiring thousands of people working together. Sagan knew and I honestly believe he wanted to prepare us.
Book 39: Cosmos by Carl Sagan.
I had always envisioned this book to be a wimpy, little, text-only book barely as involved as a pithy sci-fi novel. You must admit that if the only copies of Cosmos you ever saw were the one circled in green below, you might think the same thing:
It really just looks like any old mini-paperback. How much useful information could an author pack in such a tiny space? As a result, every time someone mentioned the book Cosmos to me, I sort of scoffed. Then, in my favorite used book store, I saw a paperback version of this:
Whaaaaaat? I never even knew this coffee-table version existed. I flipped through it and saw hundreds of full-color photos and illustrations as well as technical diagrams. Why had I only seen the wimpy version? I'm going to go with the large versions of the book sold so well, that it only left the smaller versions for the bookshelves I had previously frequented.
Carl Sagan himself and this book in particular have been so pervasive in science writing that there's little analysis I can give that probably hasn't been given before. Sagan is a great communicator. Sagan is a great scientist. Sagan channels one into the other so easily, it's truly remarkable. Etc. Etc.
I do find two things from the book particularly meaningful at this juncture in time, 39 years after both the publication of this book and the broadcast of the accompanying TV show. First is that there have been more than a few moments in history where humans have felt threatened by scientific advancement and achievement to the point of intentionally destroying knowledge. I find the story around Hypatia and the decline of the Library of Alexandria the most troubling. There seem to be similar rumblings in the current state of the world and I hope we manage to avert something so disgusting. Luckily, with the Internet, collective knowledge is unlikely to be harmed significantly by the loss of any single institution.
The second thing I found meaningful was that the combination of hugging infants and toddlers and allowing teens to explore their sexuality were the two strongest indicators for a non-violent society. I'd always had suspicions that general uptightness and the particular uptightness around sex led to serious assholery. This was the first time I'd seen it substantiated, which in itself isn't remarkable. I'm sure there's plenty of literature out there on the topic. What's remarkable is that this comes up in a book that is trying to thoughtfully place humanity in Universe and advocating for humanity not restricting itself to planet Earth. That is the magic of Carl Sagan, above all else. Going to other planets and other stars is indeed a scientific and engineering endeavor; but it is also a human endeavor and will necessarily be a collaborative, social endeavor. We endeavor to explore. We endeavor to create. And we achieve our greatest endeavors when we can peaceably work together. This has become increasingly true as science has progressed, with projects like LIGO and the LHC requiring thousands of people working together. Sagan knew and I honestly believe he wanted to prepare us.
Sunday, January 5, 2020
2019, Book 37: What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Blacker by Damon Young
Book 33: CBD Oil: Everyday Secrets by Gretchen Lidicker. Very useful information for anyone looking into CBD oil. They don't teach the cannabinoid system in high school health.
Book 34: The Music Lesson by Victor Wooten. Possibly fictionalized account of how the greatest bass player of all time learned to play. Fictionalized or not, excellent practical lessons with very helpful context.
Book 35: John Okada edited by Abe, Robinson and Cheung. A little dry and academic, but a good reference for the author of my favorite fiction book.
Book 36: The Lesson by Cadwell Turnbull. A little too neat and tidy at the end for my taste, but one of the better sci-fi books out.
Book 37: What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Blacker by Damon Young
In a similar vein as Luvvi Ajayi's I'm Judging You and Samantha Irby's We Are Never Meeting In Real Life, Damon Young's What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Blacker is a humorous collection of essays. And like those books, I laughed throughout. There are times when Young makes the seemingly mundane and boring into moments I wish I was there for. If the name Damon Young rings a bell, he is one of the two original founders of Very Smart Brothas, so, of course, humorous writing is his business.
What I didn't know was that Young is as adept when he steps outside of humorous writing. He talks about how he made a giant mistake that forced him to acknowledge and confront his unconscious misogyny. He talks about how much harder it is to be black and avoid smoking and drinking. He also talks about how this affected his family. This is the part where my heart goes out to him personally, but in doing so, goes out to millions of folks who grew up in a world they didn't create and would never have wished for themselves.
Admitting being wrong, especially about misogyny, is never easy and Young goes beyond simply saying "it was a mistake." There's no preaching and lecturing about the conditions around smoking and drinking in black communities, just laying out bare facts that force the reader into understanding the statistics. And his discussion of his family points out just how deeply he has wrestled with the thoughts and emotions of living through all of these experiences. His ability to synthesize all of this into something relevant for others is a gift Young gives to his readers with every word.
Book 34: The Music Lesson by Victor Wooten. Possibly fictionalized account of how the greatest bass player of all time learned to play. Fictionalized or not, excellent practical lessons with very helpful context.
Book 35: John Okada edited by Abe, Robinson and Cheung. A little dry and academic, but a good reference for the author of my favorite fiction book.
Book 36: The Lesson by Cadwell Turnbull. A little too neat and tidy at the end for my taste, but one of the better sci-fi books out.
Book 37: What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Blacker by Damon Young
In a similar vein as Luvvi Ajayi's I'm Judging You and Samantha Irby's We Are Never Meeting In Real Life, Damon Young's What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Blacker is a humorous collection of essays. And like those books, I laughed throughout. There are times when Young makes the seemingly mundane and boring into moments I wish I was there for. If the name Damon Young rings a bell, he is one of the two original founders of Very Smart Brothas, so, of course, humorous writing is his business.
What I didn't know was that Young is as adept when he steps outside of humorous writing. He talks about how he made a giant mistake that forced him to acknowledge and confront his unconscious misogyny. He talks about how much harder it is to be black and avoid smoking and drinking. He also talks about how this affected his family. This is the part where my heart goes out to him personally, but in doing so, goes out to millions of folks who grew up in a world they didn't create and would never have wished for themselves.
Admitting being wrong, especially about misogyny, is never easy and Young goes beyond simply saying "it was a mistake." There's no preaching and lecturing about the conditions around smoking and drinking in black communities, just laying out bare facts that force the reader into understanding the statistics. And his discussion of his family points out just how deeply he has wrestled with the thoughts and emotions of living through all of these experiences. His ability to synthesize all of this into something relevant for others is a gift Young gives to his readers with every word.
Saturday, January 4, 2020
2019, Book 32: How I Killed Pluto by Mike Brown
Book 27: Black Hole Blues by Janna Levin. I guess I should expect privilege in academia. Still sucks.
Book 28: What Belongs to You by Garth Greenwell. Not exactly my taste, but great writing.
Book 29: The Big One by Jack Page and Charles Officer. In almost all science, more data is better. Seismology is a concrete example most people can viscerally relate to.
Book 30: Passing by Nella Larson. Certainly got me to thinking about things I never thought about before.
Book 31: Our Mathematical Universe by Max Tegmark. Perhaps just me, but a lot of the implied profundity didn't land.
Book 32: How I Killed Pluto by Mike Brown
Of all the controversies in science, I would never have expected the classification of an inanimate object to evoke the emotion that Pluto no longer being considered a "planet" has. More than once, someone asking me "Why isn't Pluto a planet anymore?" (I'm the resident expert in some of my circles on such matters apparently) was stopped in their tracks with the simple counter "Why should it be a planet?" Occasionally, confusion is brought up or Pluto's lengthy tenure in the planet club comes up or some other excuse that is, at its core, emotional. However, once those are dispensed with, the very difficult task of defining what a planet is becomes apparent. Too loose a definition will include comets and asteroids and too tight a definition might leave out Mercury or Mars.
This is not to say all attempts at re-re-classifying Pluto as a planet are emotional. Many prominent astronomers are throwing their full weight behind efforts based on quantifiable criteria, chief amongst the astronomers I follow being Alan Stern, Principal Investigator for the New Horizons mission to ... (any guesses?) ... Pluto. I honestly haven't followed the debate closely and don't have a strong opinion. However, I will say that after reading Mike Brown's logic, the astronomers trying to re-re-classify Pluto will have their work cut out for them.
Brown's logic goes something like this. If an alien spaceship with senses and technology similar to our's were to approach our sun, how would they see things? A few details aside, the approach would go something like this. At first, only the sun itself would be a faint speck, all else too small and even fainter. As the ship approaches, in a relatively short span of travel, all the gas giants would become bright enough to detect. There would then be a lull in any new bodies that could be detected. Then in another relatively short span, the rocky inner planets would be detected. There would then be another lull before the asteroid belt and Kuiper Belt (where Pluto resides) would be detectable. Mike Brown makes the case that the classification based on these detectability lulls makes for a more enlightening means of distinguishing the bodies than the old way; and, as far as I know, Brown still believes today that this is a better system than any current proposal that makes Pluto a planet again.
As noted above, this logic not only can be challenged, but is being challenged. I will leave it to the actual astronomers to hash this out. All I can say is Brown's logic makes sense to me. My suspicion is it will break down somewhere in the distant future when hard definitions for "exoplanet" are needed and all proposed definitions will first be applied to our home planetary system. I would hope enough data is available by then to extract some useful patterns for use. Until then, I will continue to glance at the debate occasionally, but am quite satisfied to not call Pluto a planet.
I really liked that Brown wove some personal notes into this narrative. I've been lucky enough to meet Brown in person and he's always come off as a thoughtful, caring person who lets out an occasional public zing like "They thought George wasn't a distinguished enough name for a planet, so they called it Uranus." While the chapters in this book didn't quite alternate between planetary science and his personal life, I thought his autobiographical bits did a good job of communicating who he is to the reader. This is the main reason this book stands out amongst popular science books.
Book 28: What Belongs to You by Garth Greenwell. Not exactly my taste, but great writing.
Book 29: The Big One by Jack Page and Charles Officer. In almost all science, more data is better. Seismology is a concrete example most people can viscerally relate to.
Book 30: Passing by Nella Larson. Certainly got me to thinking about things I never thought about before.
Book 31: Our Mathematical Universe by Max Tegmark. Perhaps just me, but a lot of the implied profundity didn't land.
Book 32: How I Killed Pluto by Mike Brown
Of all the controversies in science, I would never have expected the classification of an inanimate object to evoke the emotion that Pluto no longer being considered a "planet" has. More than once, someone asking me "Why isn't Pluto a planet anymore?" (I'm the resident expert in some of my circles on such matters apparently) was stopped in their tracks with the simple counter "Why should it be a planet?" Occasionally, confusion is brought up or Pluto's lengthy tenure in the planet club comes up or some other excuse that is, at its core, emotional. However, once those are dispensed with, the very difficult task of defining what a planet is becomes apparent. Too loose a definition will include comets and asteroids and too tight a definition might leave out Mercury or Mars.
This is not to say all attempts at re-re-classifying Pluto as a planet are emotional. Many prominent astronomers are throwing their full weight behind efforts based on quantifiable criteria, chief amongst the astronomers I follow being Alan Stern, Principal Investigator for the New Horizons mission to ... (any guesses?) ... Pluto. I honestly haven't followed the debate closely and don't have a strong opinion. However, I will say that after reading Mike Brown's logic, the astronomers trying to re-re-classify Pluto will have their work cut out for them.
Brown's logic goes something like this. If an alien spaceship with senses and technology similar to our's were to approach our sun, how would they see things? A few details aside, the approach would go something like this. At first, only the sun itself would be a faint speck, all else too small and even fainter. As the ship approaches, in a relatively short span of travel, all the gas giants would become bright enough to detect. There would then be a lull in any new bodies that could be detected. Then in another relatively short span, the rocky inner planets would be detected. There would then be another lull before the asteroid belt and Kuiper Belt (where Pluto resides) would be detectable. Mike Brown makes the case that the classification based on these detectability lulls makes for a more enlightening means of distinguishing the bodies than the old way; and, as far as I know, Brown still believes today that this is a better system than any current proposal that makes Pluto a planet again.
As noted above, this logic not only can be challenged, but is being challenged. I will leave it to the actual astronomers to hash this out. All I can say is Brown's logic makes sense to me. My suspicion is it will break down somewhere in the distant future when hard definitions for "exoplanet" are needed and all proposed definitions will first be applied to our home planetary system. I would hope enough data is available by then to extract some useful patterns for use. Until then, I will continue to glance at the debate occasionally, but am quite satisfied to not call Pluto a planet.
I really liked that Brown wove some personal notes into this narrative. I've been lucky enough to meet Brown in person and he's always come off as a thoughtful, caring person who lets out an occasional public zing like "They thought George wasn't a distinguished enough name for a planet, so they called it Uranus." While the chapters in this book didn't quite alternate between planetary science and his personal life, I thought his autobiographical bits did a good job of communicating who he is to the reader. This is the main reason this book stands out amongst popular science books.
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