Are Universes Thicker Than Blackberries?: Discourses on Godel, Magic Hexagrams, Little Red Riding Hood and Other Mathematical and Pseudoscience Topics (Hardcover)

The thirty-one essays, many of which appeared in The Skeptical Inquirer, are sorted into five parts: Science, Mathematics, Religion, Literature, and Moonshine. As a special treat (!?) some clerihews and other poetic bits by Gardner's "friend" Armand T. Ringer are sprinkled throughout, especially at the beginning of chapters. One notes in passing that "Armand T. Ringer" is an anagram of "Martin Gardner." Also included is a short story by Gardner from The College Mathematics Journal entitled "Against the Odds" (Chapter 6), a pleasant tale about a gifted black boy and a prejudiced schoolmarm notable for a happy ending and a thoroughgoing sense of the politically correct.

The first essay, "Multiverses and Blackberries" is a discussion of the many worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics. I was surprised to learn that this mind-boggling take on QM has been "defended by such eminent physicists as Murray Gell-Mann, Stephen Hawking, and Steven Weinberg." (p. 3) I think they may have defended it at one time or another, but I doubt that they embraced it wholeheartedly! A physicist who has of course is Oxford University's David Deutsch. What Gardner reveals in this interesting piece is that there are two versions of the MWI of QM, one in which the many worlds are "abstractions such as numbers and triangles," and the other in which the many worlds are real. (p. 5)

The second and third essays are on the philosophy of science, a favorite Gardner topic, and a topic that he actually makes readable and interesting, one deflating Karl Popper and the other partly a personal remembrance and appreciation of Rudolf Carnap. And then we have "Some Thoughts About Induction" in which Gardner aligns himself with David Hume, Bertrand Russell and others on the possibility that we can really prove anything by induction. This essay includes this glancing blow at those who would imagine that we might discover the ultimate nature of things: "[Electrons] may be made of superstrings. If so, what are superstrings made of?"

Other essays include "The Strange Case of Garry Wills," and "The Vagueness of Krishnamurti" from Part III on Religion in which Gardner reveals his consummate interest in the intimate details of the lives of the famous, especially the non-flattering details. I was surprised to learn of Krishnamurti's various episodes of hanky-panky. Like Gardner I had always found him unreadable, but herein I learned that the probable sufficient secret of his success was his charismatic personality.

In Part V on Moonshine Gardner has some fun with the idea that Little Red Riding Hood is a symbolic story of emerging womanhood complete with the red hood symbolizing menstrual blood and the wolf's appetite being not entirely gastronomic. I think here revealed is Gardner's limited appreciation of the nature of certain kinds of literature, of which fairy tales and religious works are examples. Such works are necessarily symbolic since what they are about cannot be expressed in a strictly denotative way because to do so would offend or be in conflict with some particulars of whatever the current wisdom might be. Such "evolved" literatures must be accessible regardless of the taboos of the present society. Better than any of the commentary from Gardner or those he quotes on the tale is the amazing print on page 180 by Gustave Doré of Little Read Riding Hood in bed with the wolf. The primeval nature of the tale is exemplified by Little Red Riding Hood's appearance simultaneously as a little girl and as a small woman, and the wolf's large mouth and ready claws. Doré knew that this was one scary tale that penetrated the listener's subconscious.

Perhaps the most valuable essays in the book are "The Brutality of Dr. Bettelheim" and "Facilitated Communication: A Cruel Farce" (chapters 23 and 24). In the first, Gardner reminds us how Dr. Bruno Bettelheim in particular, and psychoanalytic theory in general, mistreated a generation (or two or three) of autistic children and especially their so-called "refrigerator mothers" through a gross misunderstanding of autism and how to treat it. Some of the material comes from Edward Dolnick's Madness on the Couch: Blaming the Victim in the Heyday of Psychoanalysis (1998), a book I reviewed favorably and recommend highly. In the second, Gardner reminds us of the fraudulent Quija board technique employed by some health workers using autistic children that had its heyday in the late eighties and early nineties before being exposed on Frontline and 60 Minutes. The disturbing thing about Gardner's report is that one of the true believers, Professor of Education Douglas Biklen, is still at Syracuse University and is still plying his trade.

One of the best reasons for reading Gardner is to appreciate how clear his expression is, and how readable he makes just about any subject. He has a gift for making the abstract concrete and the obtuse transparent.