An excellent account of how science can be subverted, 7 Jun 2002

In her engrossing book, OF MOTHS AND MEN, Judith Hooper revisits the story of
the theory of evolution, from Darwin's masterful insight to later refinements
and controversies around the basic assumptions. This in itself is no small
accomplishment, and her narrative is both lucid and compelling, but this is
really just the necessary background to her real tale. Next she paints a
masterful portrait of the handful of scientists at Oxford who set out to
illustrate adaptive mechanisms once and for all from nature; not
coincidentally, she gives us an incisive view of intellectual life at the
pinnacle of the biological sciences establishment in mid-century England. And
finally, she shows us how the experimental model that was so widely accepted
(and so ubiquitously illustrated by all those photos of moths in textbooks)
began to unravel. By the time she's done, we understand the stakes involved
in keeping intact the "proof" underlying one of the principal tenets of the
modern view of the world, and the tenacity, ambition, and intrigue of the
major players.

Along the way Hooper manages to keep clear to the reader, miraculously
enough, all the science and personalities and facts and sequences. Make no
mistake, the story is complex, but Hooper manages to keep it from being
confusing. You don't read this five pages at a time before dropping off to
sleep, but once you understand the fundamental issues involved, it's very
hard to put down.

This book works on many different levels: a real pot-boiler, full of venality
and small-mindedness on all sides; a clear and thoughtful exposition of the
central principles behind the oh-so-short field of evolutionary biology; a
look at the sometimes whacky world of "moth people" (mostly men, as it
happens); and a textbook example of how, when you're dealing with human
beings, even on the frontiers of science, black-and-white usually refine
themselves into shades of grey as complex motives and loopy behavior keep
things chaotic. And, in between the lines, it's a strange and occasionally
hilarious history of the recent past and of how many pieces of social
quirkiness have (mercifully) fallen out of the puzzle. (For instance, we are
given the almost surreal image of the departmental secretary at Oxford having
to work in a shed in the garden, and having to go to the warmer moth shed
just to answer the phone... )

Hooper has a wonderful gift for mordant understatement combined with serious
questions that lets the reader discover the importance of the matters at hand
without her ever having to talk down. Quite an accomplishment when you're
juggling so many weighty facts, competing theories, and weird personalities.
And of course I have my own favorites among her gems: "...(W)as 'Darwin's
missing evidence' just an empty demonstration, a red-faced wino in a Santa
suit?"; "It might be said that the birds in Tinbergen's famous film were like
conventioneers gorging on roast beef and shrimp and leaving the aspic and
stewed cabbages for later." My wife had to shut me up for out-loud laughing
more than once.

Hooper avoids facile conclusions about intentions, preferring to suggest
motives and practical constraints rather than see villains and heroes.
Virtually none of her real-life characters come across as anything other than

human, which is to say flawed, in various degrees, and therefore fascinating.
I hope this will be a great cross-over book, a look at why science and a
search for the truth matter, and why human foibles will always skew results.
It should be a textbook, too: History of Science; Philosophy of Science;
Ethics; and plain old Biology -- why not? Highly recommended.