Andrea B. Rugh's favorite books to dive deeply into hot button topics you need to know more about

I love this book because it gives me a plant version of human cultures.

The important point is that each species develops its own special capacities to survive in its own environment. Call it intelligence, culture, or something else; this “shared wisdom” gets passed down from one generation to the next and changes mainly when a new feature becomes more adaptive. I admire the fairness with which the author describes scientific debates such as those over whether concepts like human intelligence can be correctly applied to plants.

If there is agreement at all, it is that evolutionary differences in “intelligence” adapt to the contexts in which different species must survive. No single continuum suffices for all species. Nor is there any single way to compare them along the way.

Pollen’s book delving into issues of mind, sense of self and consciousness is the best I have seen in trying to understand the workings of the human mind.

Until recently, such studies were the concern of religious rather than scientific scholarship. Pollen’s is the most reader-friendly and complete of current books on these topics. And even better, for a general reader, his clear and often personal commentary on the strengths and weaknesses of current hypotheses is very helpful.

I read this book after Lighteaters as a logical extension in comparing plant and human intelligence, this time with greater emphasis on what makes humans different. It is by far the best book for non-specialists on this topic.

I loved Katalin Karika’s example of how a persistent scientist can contribute meaningfully to world problems despite enormous obstacles.

Not only did she cope with the difficulties of being an immigrant in a new country (she came from Hungary), but also of being a woman in what at the time was mostly a man’s world of science. On top of that were difficulties of doing science itself—applying for grants, finding an institutional sponsor, and the competition from other scientists seeking funds and criticizing her work.

When all else failed, the generosity of other scientists made it possible for her to continue the mRNA vaccine research that became a game changer during the COVID-19 pandemic and eventually gave her a Nobel Prize in 2023.

I loved this book about Mary Sears for many of the reasons I loved the Kariko book.

Like Kariko, she kept doggedly on while suffering many of the same indignities of doing research in a man’s world. The book relates one of her major contributions in mystery-story fashion that keeps the reader eagerly awaiting the outcome. Sears and her team used their understanding of ocean environments to help the U.S. Navy in navigating amphibious landings during WWII, ultimately saving many lives.

Having spent many summers in Woods Hole, where Sears worked, I feel connected to her many achievements that reach far beyond the scope of the book, so many in fact that later a Navy survey ship was named in her honor.

It seems odd to add a novel, written in 1952, to non-fiction books delving into hot-button topics...

Better than any current book I know, East of Eden is a classic of human relationships, bringing us back to the greatest mystery of all—why human behavior is so unpredictable. Purported to be a retelling of the Biblical story of Cain and Abel, it is much more than that, in its exploration of good and evil, genetic inheritance, contextual influences, ethnic traits, human needs, and innate capacities, all elements touched on in the other four books.

In the end, Steinbeck implies that deep questions can never be predictable because they depend on the Hebrew concept “timshel," ("thou mayest"), the essential question of the day, the power of choice.