The Pseudoscience Wars by Michael D. Gordin

Source of book: I own this.

 

I had this book on my list, and found a cheap used copy. I usually read books like this from the library, but our system didn’t have it, so I went the used book route. 

 Just to clarify at the outset: this is not a book about what is and isn’t pseudoscience. It isn’t a comprehensive look at the Pseudoscience Wars™ in general. Rather, it is a history of what is generally acknowledged as the original pseudoscience war, between the scientific establishment and Immanuel Velikovsky beginning in the 1950s. 

 Wait, WHO? 

 I imagine most of us, particularly my age or younger, will be saying that. Before reading this book, that was my thought too, although, as I read it, I reached back in the recesses of my memory to some of the Young Earth Creationist stuff I absorbed as a Fundie kid. Not that Velikovsky was a friend of the YEC movement or anything. He thought they were nuts. They hated him as an atheist even while citing his works as “proof” of catastrophism. Older generations might remember some of the controversy surrounding him, but basically, he fell off the map after his death in 1979, and his ideas have become just another flavor on the fringe. 

 So, who was Immanuel Velikovsky? And what did he claim? Well, let’s see. He was a psychologist by training, born in what is now Belarus. He lived in Israel and the United States later. And his claim to fame was a book entitled Worlds in Collision.

 In that book, Velikovsky made some rather bold and unorthodox assertions about history and science. The genesis (so to speak) of his ideas was his belief that the various stories in world mythologies were not mere exaggeration or local events, but accounts of global catastrophes that actually happened. In order to make this work, Velikovsky argued for a series of “alternative” timelines to various human histories - otherwise the dates failed to line up as he wanted them to. This meant, among other adjustments, changing the ancient Egyptian calendar and annals about 600 years so they lined up with the Hebrew Bible. (Velikovsky was Jewish, although not religious, and apparently believed that his people’s sacred book was the most accurate of ancient texts. Which sounds kind of familiar, actually…) With this new timeline, Velikovsky argued that the human race had a collective amnesia of the global trauma which still affected us, and caused mainstream scientists to react to him with anger and denial rather than acceptance. (Hey, that too sounds like Evangelical gaslighting…) 

 It gets better! These global catastrophes were caused by….wait for it….a giant comet which is now the planet Venus nearly hit the earth, causing it to spin on a different axis, prolonged a day (hello, Joshua!), and pelted the earth with hydrocarbons that both made the sky catch fire (multiple myths) and gave us our crude oil reserves. Whew! That’s a lot. Oh, and this also disrupted the orbit of Mars, which made its own near collision and set of catastrophes some years later. 

 To make at least an attempt at a scientific basis for this, Velikovsky proposed that “gravity” as such was a myth, and that the force we experience as gravity isn’t a function of mass, but of electromagnetism.

 Yeah, it starts getting a bit out there once you dig in. And the key thing here is that Velikovsky didn’t start with astrophysics and then formulated a new theory based on science. Rather, he started with psychology and anthropology, then sought a scientific explanation for the psychological theories he invented. In fact, the book literally began as a project about Freud’s last work and kind of...got away from the author into a totally different discussion. By most definitions, this puts it in the category of pseudoscience. The definition, however, is murky, as the author persuasively demonstrates throughout the book. Outright quackery is one thing, but pseudoscience thinks and often acts like legitimate science, and the border often only becomes clear in retrospect. 

 In the actual historical event, Velikovsky’s theories have aged very badly. As ludicrous as they were back then, subsequent scientific discoveries - and not just in astrophysics, but also the very historical and anthropological disciplines Velikovsky relied on - have consigned them to the dustbin of history. 

 So why was there such a huge kerfuffle? That is in large part what this book seeks to explore. 

 It is not an accident, according to Gordin, that the first true pseudoscience war occurred when it did. In the aftermath of World War II and the first atomic weapons, the reputation of science was at a high mark. At the same time, the cost of knowledge had skyrocketed. No more could dilettante aristocrats make earth-shaking discoveries in their labs. Science required money, time, and resources. Thus, when pseudoscience threatened to grab some of that money, mainstream scientists felt threatened. 

 But there was more to it than that. Not long before, a Soviet geneticist named Lysenko had managed to take over the Soviet academy with his unorthodox ideas (that genes weren’t inherited as much as they were changed by the environment - so building the ubermensch wasn’t just about Eugenics, but about creating an environment where good genes would develop and be passed on to future generations.) Lysenko then got the opposing scientists declared traitors and then fired and incarcerated. So, yikes. And then there was Joseph McCarthy on the warpath against anyone perceived as “communist,” and skeptical of science in general…

 There is a heck of a lot more too, but that’s why you should read the book. 

 In the actual event, Velikovsky managed to talk Macmillan into publishing the book in its science category. This was problematic because then the mainstream universities threatened to pull their publishing from Macmillan in retaliation (the book was eventually published by another publisher as a “popular” book), and a war ensued. Velikovsky was furious, and accused the mainstream establishment of censorship, and so on. The reverberations of this still echo today in any discussion of pseudoscience, pseudomedicine, and outright quackery. 

 

During the pseudoscience wars, doctrines that were relegated kicking and screaming to the “fringe” began to respond by deploying new arguments against the establishment, claiming not just that mainstream science was incorrect or incomplete, but that scientists were engaged in a conspiracy to suppress new knowledge.

 No pseudoscientist thinks he or she is one, of course. And drawing that line isn’t always as easy as one might think. 

 

Every discussion of demarcation at its core hinges around this fundamental tension between innovation and crackpottery.

 In addition to this, there is the question of resources, as I noted above. Should scientists spend valuable time refuting non-mainstream ideas? Ignore them? And what happens when the public takes a crackpot idea and runs with it? (Exhibit A: pretty much everything Il Toupee says…) As astronomer said about Worlds in Collision, “No amount if lying will alter the truth--but lying can alter the willingness of a people to accept the truth.” 

 And what about when the idea is so outside the mainstream as to make it difficult for any coexistence to work? As the author says about Worlds in Collision: 

 

The book was, and remains, an enthralling read. It also required, to account for the events described--near collisions of planets, comets the size of Venus, the transformation of a hydrocarbon/petroleum tail of the comet into carbohydrate manna for the Israelites--outright contraventions or at least severe modifications of the conventional understandings of celestial mechanics, physics, chemistry, geology, paleontology, and biology. 

In figuring out a response, mainstream scientists tried to define pseudoscience, starting with their analysis of Lysenko. The author lists four factors which are most commonly used to describe pseudoscience. After listing the factors, Gordin then shows their limitations. The factors are (simplified by me for this post): (1) claims that are sufficiently wrong to be pseudoscience (2) rejection of scientific methods such as controlled experiments (3) elaboration and justification of the conclusions in terms of philosophy or ideology (4) intervention in the scientific process by church or state or other outside, unscientific force. 

 Like current pseudoscientists, Velikovsky spent his life trying to gain scientific credibility. In one case, he leveraged his friendship with Einstein to that effect. The thing is, the two were friends - most likely because, as Jewish ex-pats who spoke German fluently, they shared a common language and experience. (And, of course, most German speakers had Nazi connections.) In any event, Einstein thought Velikovsky’s ideas were crazy. And told him so. 

 

Einstein answered that Velikovsky had “the stuff to thoroughly disprove even the table of multiplication with your historical-philosophical methods. Of the applause of the laymen, who have a secret grudge against arithmetic, you can be assured.” 

 And then...of course…the book talks at length about Henry Morris, and his relationship to Velikovsky. The parallels (as well as the differences) are fascinating. YEC has consistently been described as pseudoscience, and it fits pretty well. (If you want, go down the rabbit hole at Joel Duff’s blog, which is excellent.) Count me in the group of “liberal” Christians who believe that YEC has done a great disservice to the reputation and practice of Christianity by “detracting from the gospel of Jesus Christ by adding to it the human foolishness of pseudoscience.” 

 Gordin has done is research on YEC, by the way. I appreciate his discussion of George McCready Price, the Adventist founder of “flood geology,” and a big influence on Henry Morris. Price was arguably the first major advocate for the YEC viewpoint, arguing for a literal six day creation 6000 years ago, back in the 1870s. As Gordin points out:

 

At the time, this was decidedly a minority position among American Christians.

 Like a lot of the litmus tests for Evangelicalism (particularly white evangelicalism) that we take for granted today - abortion, social darwinism as economic policy, culture wars - Young Earth Creationism is a relatively recent phenomenon. 

 Speaking of recent phenomena, I was somehow completely unsurprised to find out that Velikovsky enjoyed a resurgence in popularity in the 1960s among the Baby Boomers. If I were to pick a quintessential character trait of that generation (particularly the white, conservative ones), it would have to be the motto, “I got mine, sucks to be you.” But the susceptibility to pseudoscience, conspiracy theories, “alternative facts,” and rejection of science sure is apparent as well. Obviously not all, but good lord, look at what shows up in my Facebook feed from so many Boomers I know. And that’s before you get into the Bill Gothard phenomenon, or Fox News, or the alternative “medicine” industry. 

 With time, Velikovsky’s ideas were adopted by others - mostly on the fringe, which did not make Velikovsky happy. He tried to police his own fringe, but with limited success. Fun in this context was the mention of Erich von Daniken, whose ideas inspired the train wreck of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. This part of the book is pretty amusing - things got weird really fast… 

 Whether it is with pseudoscience or even more fringy stuff, scientists are faced with an impossible choice, as the author notes. Astronomer Dennis Rawlins has the best quote on this issue in the book. 

 

“If one simply ignores the crank, this is ‘close-mindedness’ or ‘arrogance.’ If one then instead agrees to meet him in debated, this is billed as showing that he is a serious scholar. (For why else would the lordly establishment agree even to discuss him.) Irksome either way.” 

 This is so very familiar from my youth, when my family was immersed in both the Fundie subculture and its obsession with YEC, and also in pseudomedicine fads. It is that exact same Catch-22 that they deliberately place the establishment in. 

 So what is the cure? The book doesn’t really offer one, but does note that a number of advocates for Velikovsky eventually rejected his theories. Once they learned more of the actual science, they found the pseudoscience increasingly untenable. That is what happened to me regarding a LOT of the dogma I was taught - it didn’t survive a collision with reality. As Leroy Ellenberger said after he left Velikovskianism: 

 

“The less one knows about science, the more plausible Velikovsky’s scenario appears, especially when most of the discussion is hand-waving. Conversely, the more knowledgeable the reader, the easier it is to see that Velikovsky’s entire physical scenario is untenable. But unless a critic explains why something is wrong, the rejection is more ex cathedra than a credible refutation.” 

 This certainly matches my experience. As I learned more, the less I could believe of YEC and other dogmas. But also, it is hard to “refute” error when the person clinging to the error lacks the base knowledge to understand why the dogma is wrong. 

 The book ends with a look at our own time. Certainly pseudoscience hasn’t gone away. But Gordin draws a sharp contrast between pseudoscientists like Velikovsky and what he calls “denialists.” Velikovsky was wrong, but he was wrong in good faith. That is, he believed what he did genuinely, and without a nefarious agenda. 

 In contrast, denialists are hired guns for an agenda. They exist to protect powerful industries (such as the tobacco and fossil fuel industries), and use the tactics of the pseudoscience wars to create doubt - and achieve specific policy goals. While pseudoscientists are all over the place, and do not conspire or even often agree with each other, denialists are absolutely coordinated, centrally funded, and politically motivated. The lessons of the tobacco industry were learned well, unfortunately. The book is worth the read for this chapter alone. 

 This book is a little dense, and not the easiest read, because of its more academic purpose. It is thoroughly documented from primary sources, filled with direct quotes and historical events. It also intentionally remains fairly neutral in tone, focusing on the events rather than refuting Velikovsky. (As Gordin notes, plenty of books have already done that.) As a study of sociology and psychology as applied to pseudoscience, it is fascinating. 

 The Pseudoscience Wars was fascinating to me, and may be to you if you care about genuine science and how humans judge truth.

***

In addition to YEC, I will mention "Scientific Racism" as a modern day pseudoscience. Unsurprisingly, most of the white people I know who push YEC also have a habit of dragging out ideas from "scientific racism" when discussing protesters and police brutality.

 

Words and Rules by Steven Pinker

Source of book: I own this. 

It would not be an exaggeration to say that Steven Pinker’s book, The Better Angels of our Nature, is one of the top five most influential books I have read. I recommend it to everyone, particularly those who want to understand just how far the human race has come in reducing violence. (Although a recent resurgence in authoritarianism and xenophobia from toxic males like Trump, Bolsonaro, and Putin is not helping things.) That book really clarifies how violence can and is being reduced by specific ideas, many stemming from the Enlightenment. 

Words and Rules is a VERY different sort of book. For one thing, rather than being in the pop sociology sort of field, it is directly related to Pinker’s original job, as a research psychologist. For another thing, this book is seriously nerdy, detail oriented, and of a more specialized appeal. Which is to say that I found it fascinating, but not everyone will. 

Pinker sets out to make a case for a specific model for how our brains process language, based in significant part on how we use regular and irregular verbs (and to a lesser degree, regular and irregular nouns.) I’ll give a thoroughly oversimplified version of the theory, but Pinker literally spends over 300 pages (including extensive footnotes and sources) supporting his argument. Part of the supporting evidence is research that Pinker himself did with colleagues over the years, which means that he is able to describe in detail the way the experiments worked, and how they controlled for specific factors. 

Here is the very basic idea behind the theory. Humans use two basic tools for language. The first is a list of words - that is, sounds that correspond to ideas. However, we do not merely learn and memorize words. In fact, these “words” are better described as “roots,” or pieces of words that have the core meaning of words in our language. We then use the second tool to assemble them: rules. The rule processing occurs at multiple levels. For example, we use syntax and grammar to assemble our words into sentences with meaning. We obviously do not memorize every possible sentence and what it means, but use rules to put meanings together into coherent ideas. 

Pinker takes it further, however, and argues that we do not memorize all of our words, but assemble many of them according to rules. For example, we do not think of “slice” and “sliced” and “slicing” as separate words, but as the root “slice” joined to the standard “regular” suffixes to indicate verb tense. 

This works really well for “regular” verbs, but breaks down for “irregular” verbs. We do not say “runned,” for example. These exceptions actually are the way that Pinker and others have tested the theory. There is no way to describe all of the various tests - that’s what the book is about. 

Pinker starts with some history, to explain where irregulars came from in the first place - usually they are the “fossils of the long dead rules” of an ancestor language. Language is transmitted down the generations by what is essentially a game of “telephone.” Distortions accumulate, changes are made, and each generation “reanalyzes” the grammatical and syntactical meaning of what it hears. 

All languages change through the centuries. We do not speak like Shakespeare (1564-1616), who did not speak like Chaucer (1343-1400), who did not speak like the author of Beowulf (around 750-800). As the changes take place, people feel the ground eroding under their feet and in every era have predicted the imminent demise of the language. Yet the twelve hundred years of changes since Beowulf have not left us grunting like Tarzan, and that is because language change is a game of Broken Telephone.

A generation of speakers uses their lexicon and grammar to produce sentences. The younger generation listens to the sentences and tries to infer the lexicon and grammar, the remarkable feat we call language acquisition.

This gets into the weeds pretty fast - again, something I personally found fascinating. Your mileage may vary. For us grammar nerds, it is fun to find out how and why we pluralize compound words. Why, for example, is it we sometimes put the plural on the first word and other times on the last? (You’ll have to read the book to find out - it’s….complicated. And also a great occasion for a reference to “I am the very model of a modern major general.” 

I learned a new word from this book, by the way: “muzzy.” It means almost, but not quite, the same thing as “fuzzy,” the way we use it in a figurative sense. It can be defined as “blurred or indistinct” - similar to “fuzzy,” - or as “unable to think clearly; confused.” Pinker uses it in both senses, to describe words that we tend to categorize as on the line. Do we use a regular or irregular form? Neither feels quite right. And there are a number of words in this category - typically unusual and archaic sorts. For example, I might feel comfortable using “smite-smote-smitten” because I read old books. But even I find “thrive-throve-thriven” a bit...muzzy. I am more likely to use a regular “thrived” here. That’s a word, by the way, which is in the process of converting from irregular to regular. 

I have to give Pinker credit for his creative use of other materials to illustrate his points. Comic strips get significant play, particularly ones involving children and language. In addition to his Gilbert and Sullivan reference above, I also appreciated his brief quote from Leo Rosten’s delightful books about the fictional H*Y*M*A*N K*A*P*L*A*N. (Those who have read the books will understand.) 

Perhaps even further into the ideas: Pinker discusses at length the two competing philosophical theories of the Mind, Rationalism and Empiricism. Again, a bit simplified, but in this context, rationalism claims the mind has inherent structures and works by rules, while empiricism claims the mind is a blank slate and works by associationism. One might say, “words versus rules.” Pinker describes a series of experiments by himself and by others (it’s a LOT of experimentation, believe me) using the past tense to essentially bring the two theories together in “single combat.” As one might expect from the earlier part of the book, both have elements of truth, but Rationalism wins overall. Humans have a striking ability to infer rules and use them to compensate for an inability to experience and remember every possible reality. 

Throughout the book, we move from the specific to the general. We start with how regular and irregular verb forms work and how they came to be, and end up with a broad theory as to the workings of the human brain regarding not just language, but many areas of knowledge. Pinker notes that it is often these curiosities about specific phenomena which lead to greater scientific knowledge. 

In science the pursuit of idle curiosity often pays off in deeper understanding. People’s inquisitiveness about flied out, talismans, sabertooths, still lifes, outputted, rat-infested, and other unexpected forms has enhanced our understanding of regularity and irregularity and provided an entirely new kind of evidence in favor of the words-and-rules theory.

While it would take far too long to detail all of the scope of this book, I do want to mention some of the ways in which Pinker explores the reaches of the theory. First, while, for obvious reasons, English is the language he uses most; he also gradually expands his view back along the language tree. Starting with related languages like German and Dutch, he ends up showing that, while languages differ greatly in words and syntax, they all have regular and irregular words (although not always verbs), and function using a words and rules system. In other words, it isn’t just how English works: this is how human brains work regarding language. We memorize words, but also process using rules, thus saving memory and vastly simplifying the language assembly process. 

Pinker also looks at children, and how they learn language. After all, we adult grammar snobs can discuss tenses and regularity in an academic sense, but ALL of us learned most of this intuitively before we even started school. It is actually amazing what kids learn and how fast and early they learn it. A five year old may not know all the nuances or be able to articulate the rules, but listen to one sometime: it is astonishing how fluently they navigate tenses as well as the distinction between regular and irregular even at that age. 

Finally, Pinker examines some fascinating case studies of people who have either suffered brain damage or who have developmental issues that affect one, but not both, of the systems. For example, patients who have suffered strokes and have one form or another of aphasia. Some lose the ability to remember words, but can assemble grammatical sentences. Others remember words, but cannot process the syntax correctly. As Pinker’s theory would predict, loss of the “rules” means a person struggles to correctly use regular verb tenses, while loss of “words” means they tend to use regular verb tenses on irregular verbs. Ditto for certain developmental issues which do not affect general intelligence. This chapter was quite fascinating. 

This book isn’t for everyone, but for those who love language, find science fascinating, and wish to learn more about the human psyche, it is worth a try. I read it a bit at a time, because it can overwhelm with detail. It is, however, thoroughly footnoted, with sources thoroughly cited. Pinker has a solid reputation in his field, and has published a couple of far more technical books on the same topic as Words and Rules, which is aimed at the layperson. While, for obvious reasons, there is no such thing as a One True Theory™ which explains everything, Pinker makes a good case for his view of things - and it does do a pretty good job of explaining what we observe. 

How to Invent Everything by Ryan North

Source of book: I own this

This book was a gift from my wife this last Christmas. Ryan North is a rather eclectic writer, from his “choose your own adventure” style riffs on Shakespeare to Dinosaur Comics to The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl. And then this book, which isn’t really like anything else. 

How to Invent Everything starts from the premise that it is a guidebook to be used by the time traveler - who has rented a recreational time machine from the company who made the guide - but something has gone badly wrong and they cannot return to their own timeline. (For which the company definitely is not legally liable…) In other words, if you find yourself somewhere back in human history, how do you make your world better? 

The book starts with a few frequently asked questions, then proceeds to the key question: where in time are you? A handy flowchart helps you figure it out. The book assumes that, for it to be any use, you have to have arrived at some time when humans have evolved to their modern biological state (about 200,000 years BCE to the present) and can thus invent civilization and stuff. If you find yourself before that, the guide is of some use, but one person can only do so much…

One thing that is quite fascinating is that biologically modern humans evolved long before culturally modern humans did. We appear to have spent the first 150,000 years of our biological existence living essentially like animals. Sure, certain “modern” behaviors appeared here and there in fits and starts - but they disappeared because they couldn’t be passed on to others. It was the development of language which set us on the trajectory toward civilization. 

The book starts its “how to invent” section with the five fundamental technologies for civilization:

Spoken language.

Written language.

Non-sucky numbers.

The scientific method.

Calorie Surplus.

It is hard to argue with this list, although in chronological time, the calorie surplus happend second, after spoken language. (This was NOT a coincidence.) As the book points out, it is embarrassing how long it took us to discover some of these things. In my opinion, the most embarrassing by far is the fact that we didn’t invent non-sucky numbers until about 650 CE. That is astonishing, honestly, considering all the stuff we did figure out. 

I loved the book’s concise (and slightly tongue in cheek) description of the limits of science. Science is:

Provisional

Contingent

Our best effort so far

This has been one of the longstanding beefs I have had with my Fundamentalist upbringing: the idea that “since science doesn’t deal in certainties and has changed over time, the beliefs of ancient peoples are true and science is a lie.” This is pretty obviously baloney, but it was taught as (literally) gospel truth. Sure, Relativity has replaced Newtonian physics at the planetary scale, but it doesn’t mean that the earth is flat. Isaac Asimov wrote what is still the best explanation of this phenomenon. Thus, the point isn’t that our current understanding is “wrong,” but that it can - and should - develop to be more right than it is now. 

Side note on science, from one of the endnotes: we have this weird mythology of science that says that it is a series of epiphanies, often discovered by accident. This isn’t exactly true - or even nearly true. 

Most cutesy stories for scientific invention are false, but they persist because we tend to love the “single moment of accidental insight that changed the world” narrative much more than we love the competing “it was a lot of hard work and study that took up a good portion of my life” storyline. 

The book has a generally snarky and humorous tone throughout, which some will like more than others. I found it amusing, and a useful technique to make a summary of human technology far from dry. 

For example, here is a bit from the section on domesticating animals, which answers (definitively) the ancient question about chickens. 

USES

Chickens are a delicious source of both meat and eggs. Plus, they’re omnivorous, which makes them easier to feed than cows.

To answer your question: the egg came first, as eggs evolved in other animals millions of years before chickens ever appeared.

To answer your second, newly clarified question: the chicken egg also came first. Inside the first chicken egg was a zygote carrying a mutation that allowed it to become the first chicken. This egg, with a mutated zygote inside, was therefore laid by a protochicken. Evolution!

Aristotle wasted a lot of time pondering this problem around 350 BCE and ended up concluding that both chickens and eggs must have always existed as two eternal constants in the cosmos. See? These are the conclusions you reach when you don’t know evolution is a thing.

In addition to the snark, the book is interspersed with a bunch of fun quotes, which are attributed to “~You (also [original author].” 

The book isn’t “original” in the sense of containing new information. Rather, North takes his information from a range of reputable secondary sources, all of which are endnoted. It was kind of fun to find reference to a book which I already read. For example, on the topic of how bread is made (and therefore beer and other alcohol), North cites the delightful A History of the World in Six Glasses by Tom Standage. The point in this case is that the invention of alcohol was likely what led humans to abandon the hunter-gatherer lifestyle and embrace agriculture. You can eat without farming, but you can’t make booze without it. And alcohol, despite what the Fundies say, is fundamental to civilization and religion - and that very much includes Christianity. 

Also on the topic of bread, the book points out (correctly) that there is no such thing as vegetarian bread. (Yeast is not a plant, and the way we use it is kind of similar to how we use animals - they do the labor, then we kill and eat them…) 

Pretty funny too was the section on salt. North points out that, until recently (when salt became really cheap), whiter salt was considered better. 

Whiter salt is typically more desirable, at least until white salt becomes cheap and commonplace, at which point everyone starts paying more for exotic colors and flavors of impure “raw” salt. That’s right: those expensive “red salts” you used to pay a premium for were just regular salts with some dirt in them!

How about another snarky bit on how to discover penicillin? 

CIVILIZATION PRO TIP: Sometimes all you need to do to become one of the greatest scientists in history is to pick your nose and wipe it on a petri dish.

Not all the snark comes directly from North, though. I loved this quote from Ghandi, of all people:

“My grandfather once told me that there were two kinds of people: those who dod the work and those who take the credit. He told me to try to be in the first group; there was less competition there.” 

The book goes all the way through logic gates for building computers, and touches on pretty much every major technology - at least the fundamentals of it. While it seems impractical to build some of the things, it is apparent that knowledge of how things work could indeed lead to serious shortcuts around the obstacles that took humans thousands of years to solve. 

There are a lot of fun sections in the book, too many to mention. The summary of major religious and philosophical beliefs using the “high five” is marvelous, to name just one. While not exactly a deep scientific book, it is a fun diversion, and actually contains a great summary of the ideas and knowledge that civilization is built upon.