This is a ferciously well-written account of the race to map the human genome, one of the most sordid and expensive races in the history of science. Virtually alone amongst the books available out there on the genome race, this book tells the story from the point of view of Craig Venter. Not only that, but James Shreeve had a complete fly-on-the-wall view of the inner workings of Celera, allowing Shreeve to give a full-blooded account of the implosion of Venter's dream, that of becoming the Bill Gates of Biotech.
Shreeve has done the impossible by pulling the threads of this immense story into a tight coherent narrative. At the end of the story, we understand how Venter ended up in the embarassing situation of negociating a so-called "tie" in the race for the human genome. Shreeve has a novelistic eye for detail in painting memorable portraits of the many people involved in the story. The science is vividly introduced when needed, but the complex financial and political moves are also explicated with authority. This is very very good writing.
Although Craig Venter has often been demonized amongst scientific circles, it was always an open question whether Venter was the devil incarnate, or an incredibly naive scientist who made one stupid faustian bargain after another. While there is no doubt that Venter is a brilliant man, Shreeve' account portrays Venter as a financial masochist, a victim of financial forces beyond his understanding.
In the preface, Shreeve explained that he had originally wanted a balanced account of the race as he tried to get access to the head of the public Human Genome Project, Francis Collins. He was refused. Because of that, Shreeve has structured the book as a character study of Venter, where we are privy to all his inner trials and tribulations. From being embedded in the private side of the race, Shreeve introduces a subtle bias in the account. The private researchers at Celera are fun and daring, even glamorous, whereas the public scientists are inefficient, stodgy, yawningly boring white-lab coats, especially when they talk about the ethical stuff. In my experience, it's been the opposite. I know researchers who have come back into academia because industry research was so achingly boring.
One big gripe I have with this book is that Shreeve glides over why the public project was so fixated on trying to keep the map open, free and accessible. Shreeve makes the leaders of the public project sound like shrill ideologues, constantly harping on over some kind of utopian ideal. This subtle bias ignores the heavily documented, though much ignored, literature over the pathological behaviour of the pharmaceutical industry. A commercial monopoly over the human genome would have been a disaster for public health (as opposed to rich men's health), and Celera came close to destroying the fragile consensus in academia science.
Apart from this gripe, I do recommend that you read this book if you want a sophisticated guide to one of the most fascinating collisions between commerical and public science, as well as a superb study of scientific ambition.