Books like The Man Who Changed Everything — picked by fans

I wanted to read this book to learn how Enrico Fermi could be the “last man who knew everything.”

It turns out he didn’t know “everything” about “everything,” but rather knew nearly everything in physics. Especially noteworthy was Fermi’s genius for both theoretical and applied physics. It was he, after all, who planned and carried out the first successful atomic chain reaction in a squash court at the University of Chicago and co-invented the nuclear reactor.

I loved learning about a relatively shy boy and a late bloomer (albeit with a photographic memory!) who became a brilliant, extremely supportive teacher and a scientist, about whom more positive things were said after his death than about any other twentieth-century scientist.

I was amazed at how a complete outsider, Srinivasa Ramanujan, who grew up in relative poverty, could rise to the highest levels of the British academic world through the sheer force of his intellectual genius.

How could this self-taught mathematical prodigy, elected a Fellow of the Royal Society, one of the youngest to win that honor and only the second Indian, make such extraordinary contributions to several areas of mathematics? How lucky for humanity that he was discovered and, though sickly, brought to England!

How many more contributions could he have made had he not died at age 32? How many undiscovered geniuses, hidden in remote corners of the world, have never realized their extraordinary potential?

I loved the story of Joseph Needham, an eccentric English scientist who fell in love first with a Chinese woman and then with China itself.

I could relate to the passion he felt for learning about a completely different culture, immersing himself in the language, and pursuing countless friendships with Chinese people.

Although I had known that Chinese artisans developed some of the world’s greatest inventions (paper, woodblock printing, gunpowder, and the mariner’s compass), Needham discovered and cataloged dozens of others in many thick scholarly volumes, showing the world the greatness of the ancient Chinese culture.

Before I read this book, I had not even heard of James Hutton.

It turns out he was a learned amateur scientist, lawyer, doctor, entrepreneur, and farmer in Scotland who demonstrated before anyone else that the Earth is far older than imagined. I liked the fact that Hutton was lively, energetic, eccentric, and cheerful, with an infectious positive disposition. It must have been a real treat to know him.

His keen observations of the Scottish landscape enabled him to formulate a theory of geological evolution, positing that the Earth is continuously forming and reforming through the action of subterranean heat and pressure and ceaseless erosion. I was amazed to learn that Hutton lacked the great renown of Galileo and Darwin because he wrote obscure prose!

In telling us how four men with disparate but complementary talents came together to bring James Clerk Maxwell’s epoch-changing but hitherto obscure theory of electromagnetism to the world, Bruce Hunt somehow succeeds in combining the highest level of scholarship with a warm and engaging narrative. One gets to know Oliver Heaviside, Oliver Lodge, George Francis FitzGerald, and Heinrich Hertz, and to feel almost as though one were sharing their struggles and triumphs. I love this book.

Years ago, I decided to plunge headfirst into Newton’s great and famously daunting work, the Principia, to see what I could grasp. My education is in mathematics and physics, and I thought I’d give it a go. With Dana Densmore’s book by my side, I discovered, to my surprise, that the wonder of Newton’s achievements can be known to anyone, even to those without any particular mathematical training.

If you too are curious—and you must be—please get Dana Densmore’s remarkable book! She’s a mathematician who writes beautifully—she’ll walk you through every stage of the master’s thought. It’s a beautiful book to look at and have: Donahue’s meticulous graphics and translations in colored font are fun to pore over, alongside Dana’s intelligent commentary.

This is a delightful read about a subject I’ve been attracted to for many years: gravity. The odd fact is, while we can use Newton’s laws to determine all sorts of things that gravity can do—with sufficient precision even to guide spaceships to orbits around other planets—we still don’t really know what gravity is.

The book is an extended essay about the history of our ideas about gravity’s myths, maths, and mysteries. I especially enjoyed how Panek raises and lightly touches upon so many aspects of the question, juggling it with finesse from every angle. He covers the ground long before, up to, and past Newton’s breakthrough. I particularly liked his discussion of the problem of comets in Newton’s theory. Panek concludes with recent gravity wave detections.

It was good luck when I stumbled across this marvelous Newton resource at a used bookstore in Edinburgh, Scotland. I open it frequently; arranged alphabetically, the answer always seems to be there. There are so many aspects to Newton’s life, writings, and science that a book like this—this book—is indispensable for anyone who spends time with the man or his ideas.

Running from “Aberration” to “Young, Thomas,” it encompasses everything in between: Newton’s family tree (under “Family”); writings on mechanics (under “Mechanics”); chronology, data, contents, and summaries of each edition of the Principia (under “Principia”); and details of every one of his published works (under “Works”). Of great use to me, too, are biographic summaries of his contemporaries (like Flamsteed, Halley, and Hooke), all concise and excellent.

Twenty years ago, while driving to my favorite lunch-hour swimming place in Hawaii, I heard the renowned physicist Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar being interviewed on the radio about the release of his new book on Newton’s Principia.

Chandrasekhar’s goal was to present Newton’s thought and ‘mathematical craftsmanship’ in a way accessible to the modern reader. Long an admirer of Chandra and Newton, I was sold. This labor of love is the book to read if you want to know all about how Newton did it.

But in fairness, it is not really for ‘the common reader:’ its math level varies from simple to challenging. Yet there is so much there, even if you don’t get it all. The illustrations are big and clear; his technical and historical asides are fascinating and stimulating.

I have had my copy since about 1972, when I was a penurious post-grad, and it lacks an ISBN, but it is based on a famous phrase that may or may not have been written by Sir Isaac Newton: “If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants”, and it is an uproarious and undisciplined history of that phrase. Merton calls it a Shandean postscript, because there are parallels with the style of Tristram Shandy.

I am afraid (or so two of my more literate editors have assured me), Merton infected my own style to an extent, but you can just tell that he enjoyed telling a story, almost as though it came from Falstaff himself. Any would-be understander of science needs to read it, but if you cite it, don’t make the mistake of Charlesworth et al., who, in Life Among the Scientists,… show more.