After reading Bill Bryson’s wonderful A Short History of Nearly Everything, I’ve been effectively disabused of the notion that scientists are purely logical, rational, and reasonable folk, and that science progresses through mild-mannered and careful thinking. I bet it does, sometimes. But, like any dynamic human activity, science is populated by a diverse group of people. Some, I’m sure, are the workaday, tame people we like to imagine in white lab coats. But we also have half-deranged incorrigible bachelors who stick needles in their own eyes (Newton), adventurous world-travelers with exotic diseases (Darwin), and fun-loving, impetuous youngsters who enjoy chatting about foreign girls and wine as much as tinkering with organic chemistry (Watson).
This book was great. We are all taught in school that DNA was discovered in 1953 by Watson and Crick. What we are not told about is the high school-type drama that was involved. Backstabbing, gossip, love, wine, vicious arguments, a race against time (and Linus Pauling)—after reading this, you’d be amazed that us humans ever get anything done.
The elephant in the room here is, of course, Watson’s description of Rosalind Franklin. It’s very sexist. She comes across as a know-nothing bulldog. I’m sure many readers will be put off by it. Personally, I think it’s valuable to read about anyway. It’s a bird’s eye view into what institutional sexism was like. Moreover, I think that Watson’s honesty is preferable to a retrospective cover-up. I have no doubt that this was actually how Watson experienced the events he describes. Also, even Watson dedicates the last two paragraphs to an apology for his treatment of Rosalind, as well as an encomium to her scientific work. It’s a shame she died young, or she might have seen more of the credit in her lifetime.
And (if you will pardon me for saying this) the sexism on display is a part of the charm of this book. Not that sexism is charming, of course, but that Watson gives us a singularly candid portrait of how scientists really operate. For The Double Helix has no pretense of objectivity or authority. It is a first-person account of one of the greatest scientific discoveries of the 20th century, with all of the peripheral thoughts, activities, interests, and proclivities that were part of Watson’s life while he struggled with the problem. So read this book, to see how a 24-year-old American with stomach pains from English food managed to uncover the secret of life by tinkering with a model in a cramped Cambridge office. And he didn't even need a lab coat.