In an age in which words like “populism” and “nation state” have become pejoratives, Yoram Hazony’s defense of nationalism is audacious. The author, an established expert on political philosophy an...

I first visited the Galápagos Islands in June 1998, and little was as I expected. Rather than craggy barrens covered with scrub, lush foliage beautified many islands. Rather than flourishing coastal habitats, surface water temperatures were well above normal, and throughout the archipelago dead or dying sea lions, sea birds, and marine iguanas littered the shores. All of this was the result of increased rainfall and the disruption of the normal upwelling in waters surrounding the archipelago caused by the 1997–1998 (...) El Niño event. When I visited Galápagos again, in February 1999, the islands were suffering one of the driest periods on record, and terrestrial vegetation had died back; but the cool, nourishing upwelling had resumed, and the marine environment was thriving.A “study in contrasts” aptly describes the two extremes in environmental conditions in the Galápagos Islands in 1998 and 1999 and, as Edward Larson captures beautifully in this book, many aspects of their history. Indeed, a theme that emerges in Larson's historical account of the Galápagos is one of irony. Compare Herman Melville's characterization of the islands as “an archipelago of aridities, without inhabitant, history, or hope of either in all time to come” , with modern biologists' and eco‐tourists' view of the Galápagos as “hallowed ground” and “enchanting”; the view of Galápagos as a place where one can so easily see Creation with the view that is is a place where one can so easily see evolution ; the popular belief that Darwin used Galápagos finches as the basis of his theory of natural selection with the reality that a complete picture of Galápagos finch evolution didn't emerge until it was unveiled in 1947 by David Lack, who renamed “Galápagos finches” “Darwin's finches”; the treatment of Galápagos as a land of plenty from which early sailors, buccaneers, and greedy naturalists removed tens of thousands of tortoises with its current status as a land in which a single tortoise named Lonesome George is an icon for conservation worldwide; and its small stature in terms of geographical size with its monumental stature in terms of impact on the history of biological science.Expanding on the last contrast, Larson offers the following insight from Robert Bowman: “No area on Earth of comparable size has inspired more fundamental changes in Man's perspective of himself and his environment than the Galápagos Islands” . As such, the comprehensive history of the place provided by Larson is well justified. It is also fascinating, and Larson tells the tale well—concisely, occasionally with wit, and always with inclusive documentation. The text is divided into three parts, the first covering the period from the discovery of the New World, including Galápagos in 1535, to Darwin's legendary visit in 1835 and the subsequent publication of On the Origin of Species in 1859; the second, the explosion of interest in the archipelago by American and European naturalists in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries; and the third, the remarkable transformation of the Galápagos between World War II, during which it served as a military base for the United States, to the present. Following and cited in the text are sixty‐three pages of notes, a veritable gold mine of references to classic and obscure published material that demonstrate both how thoroughly Larson researched the topic and how persistently this small archipelago has pervaded scientific, governmental, religious, and public thought.This book is more than a historical account of scientific exploration in Galápagos; it is also a dramatic story of the history of Galápagos in human thought. By incorporating thoughts and findings of nearly every famous, infamous, and forgettable player in Galápagos exploration in roughly chronological order and in the context of prevailing social or scientific mores, Larson provides an extraordinary glimpse into human nature. Regarding the evolution of human thought in conceptualizing organic evolution, Larson demonstrates that spiritual concerns or other constraints prevent some individuals from progressing intellectually, others eagerly abandon all tradition to embrace new concepts, and still others find middle ground. As noted poignantly, no less than ironically, by Larson, creation science, not evolution, is taught in Galápagos schools, and this once‐pristine archipelago is now bustling with humans and the predictable problems that accompany us. The history of Galápagos, both in terms of its ultimate fate and its influence on human thought, is not finished. The sequel to Evolution's Workshop may be equally intriguing. (shrink)

Suddendorf explores “the gap” between humans and other animals, with a particular emphasis on our great ape relatives. Both for nonscientists and those scientists or philosophers whose work is not centrally preoccupied with such questions, the book provides a tidy compendium of experimental results organized around a number of precisely defined areas of competence. He takes language, mental time travel, theory of mind, intelligence, culture and morality to be definitive of human cognitive prowess and judiciously evaluates the comparative evidence he (...) has assembled in respect of each of them .What is especially refreshing about his interpretations is that they come off as measured and dispassionate just when one imagines the pull of optimism would be strongest. At no point does he rely on hand-waving explanations or recapitulate familiar pieties about man and beast. (shrink)