10 (Plus 1) Great Scientific Biographies You Should Read!
Some years ago I picked up, in a second-hand bookshop, a rather battered but extraordinary book ... 'Napoleon: how he did it' by Baron Fain, Napoleon's former 'First Secretary of the Cabinet'. It presents a picture of the Emperor, his work and personal habits. It eschews the larger historical perspective and instead concentrates on the personal and quotidian. I had hoped to acquire the secrets of Napoleonic accomplishments, just that ... 'how he did it'. The best I can say is that it is, in my case, a work in progress.
So too, though I enjoy history and biography in general, I read scientific biographies hopeful that I might understand how they achieved scientific greatness, in order obviously, that I might emulate it. The outcome is, inevitably, that I better appreciate just how exceptional the individuals are and how unlikely any strategy dependent upon emulation might be. Only one practical lesson shines through, the requirement for a sustained and unblinking focus on a challenge that is worthy of the effort that must be devoted to it. Scientific greatness is earned, but it is also chosen.
Short of step-by-step instructions on how to get a Nobel prize, here are some scientific and mathematical biographies (and autobiographies) that I have enjoyed reading, and that you may too. They are about people but also about historical and social context and as a side benefit some interesting maths and science. In each case however, they are also selected on the basis of some wonderful, lucid and entertaining writing. I have deliberately excluded group biographies or more general scientific history, this is about individuals, otherwise really first rate books such as 'The Age of Wonder: How the Romantic Generation Discovered the Beauty and Terror of Science by Richard Holmes' would have made the list. There are no biographies of women scientists on my list, and I really need recommendations for books I should read. Surely, for example, Marie Curie merits a biography to measure up to her attainments.
A Beautiful Mind by Sylvia Nasar. Forget the film. This book captures the strangeness of John Nash and his navigation of the line between mental illness and sanity, and the oddity of his personal relationships. It places the work on game theory in a political and historical context and gets the balance between a troubled personal life and the mathematical work just right. Perhaps less strong on explaining game theory but it is easy to pick up the classic book (Prisoner's Dilemma: John Von Neumann, Game Theory and the Puzzle of the Bomb) by William Poundstone to get a better understanding.
Naturalist by Edward O. Wilson. I selected this autobiography because of the quality of the writing above all, with beautifully composed vignettes. It is particularly strong in giving an insight into the early development of the scientific impetus and on his interests and motivations. Inevitably, you do not get a balanced view of the heated disputes about sociobiology that have formed a part of his later professional life but the book is sharp and witty and rarely tips into polemic.
The Man Who Knew Infinity: Life of the Genius Ramanujan by Robert Kanigel. It is surprising that this book is not better known, it certainly deserves to be. The story it tells, of the self-taught mathematical genius from India, discovered through his unsolicited letters to the pure mathematician, GH Hardy, is an extraordinary one. It moves from the heat and colour of Imperial India to a cold, damp Cambridge where Ramanujan dies, tragically young. A wonderful read .
Alan Turing: The Enigma by Andrew Hodges. Some years ago I attended a dinner at a Cambridge college to mark , I think, the fiftieth anniversary of Turing's death. It was attended by a small number of scientists who had known and worked with him. He was a difficult colleague, as geniuses often are, and, in the way of universities, this was was dwelt on at some length. The immensely creative but troubled person, described to me, clearly emerges from this biography which captures too the full range of his talent and the importance of his contributions.
American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer by Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin. The title is apt. Prometheus brings fire to man deceiving the Gods and is sentenced as his punishment to a perpetual torment. So Oppenheimer brings the nuclear bomb into existence but pays for his politics by exile from influence and respect. This complex and nuanced story is brilliantly recounted, light on the science but superbly analytical of the politics and personalities. Oppenheimer's failings are not disguised but neither is his contribution underplayed.
Prof: The Life and Times of Frederick Lindemann by Adrian Fort. Lindemann though a considerable scientist is not perhaps in the very first scientific league but this book nevertheless merits a place as it illuminates the role of the scientific adviser and administrator. Lindeman's centrality to historical events of great moment also render this an interesting and worthwhile read. Sidelights are cast on rivalries and the contest of ideas and resources that lie at the core of much scientific development.
Alfred Kinsey: A Life - Sex the Measure of All Things by Edward Gathorne-Hardy. I thought twice about including this because, though Kinsey framed his work scientifically, the book is as much about attitudes to sex as about science. It is however, excellently written, and both the oddity of Kinsey and the significance of his work are well described. The book is highly engaging and though frank is not prurient.
Newton by Peter Ackroyd. There is scientific greatness, and then there is Newton, a towering genius whose accomplishments in setting the very framework of how we understand the world, can scarcely be grasped. This slim volume provides the basic framework for a view of his life. It is crisply and cleanly drawn, with the facts, set out and ordered. Ultimately however, the book makes clear how little we know of this strange man and how distant understanding might be, and in this is makes a valued contribution
The Strangest Man: The Life of Paul Dirac by Graham Farmelo. That this book achieved the recent popularity it has must be attributed to the quality of the writing and the care with which a psychological portrait of Dirac is built. The biographer does attempt to describe the mathematical contributions but it should be acknowledged that this was always going to be an uphill task. Dirac is a fascinating psychiatric case study and his closed life in which the abstraction of mathematical physics provides a redemptive force is subtly brought out in this excellent account.
The Man Who Loved Only Numbers: The Story of Paul Erdös and the Search for Mathematical Truth by Paul Hoffman. If you have written a paper with the prolific Hungarian mathematician Erdös then you are Erdös 1. If you have written a paper with a co-author of Erdös then you are Erdös 2, and so on. Virtually all published mathematicians have a low Erdos number, even I am Erdös 3. This book wittily describes Erdös's life as he moves from University to University, collaborator to collaborator, problem to problem, living only for mathemantics, constantly on the move. In portraying the man it also portrays the mathematical community. You can smell the chalk dust.
The Man Who Shocked the World: The Life and Legacy of Stanley Milgram by Thomas Blass. Milgram is best known for the 'Obedience Experiment', the shocking insight to the social power of the trappings of authority and the instinct to obedience. Milgram was responsible for an immense range of psychological experiments that expose the complexities of human social behaviour. He demonstrates the vast importance of the creative experimentalist. This book describes the emergence of a discipline and the context in which it arose.
Further suggestions are very much welcomed.