A prescient warning about the mysterious and deadly world of fungi―and how to avert further loss across species, including our own. Fungi are everywhere. Most are harmless; some are helpful. A few are killers. Collectively, infectious fungi are the most devastating agents of disease on earth, and a fungus that can persist in the environment without its host is here to stay. In Blight, Emily Monosson documents how trade, travel, and a changing climate are making us all more vulnerable to invasion. Populations of bats, frogs, and salamanders face extinction. In the Northwest, America’s beloved national parks are covered with the spindly corpses of whitebark pines. Food crops are under siege, threatening our coffee, bananas, and wheat―and, more broadly, our global food security. Candida auris , drug-resistant and resilient, infects hospital patients and those with weakened immune systems. Coccidioides, which lives in drier dusty regions, may cause infection in apparently healthy people. The horrors go on--yet prevention is possible.
Tracing the history of fungal spread and the most recent discoveries in the field, Monosson meets scientists who are working tirelessly to protect species under threat and whose innovative approaches to fungal invasion have the potential to save human lives. Delving into case studies at once fascinating, sobering, and hopeful, Blight serves as a wake-up call, a reminder of the delicate inter-connection of the natural world, and a lesson in seeing life on our planet with renewed humility and awe.
Emily Monosson is an environmental toxicologist, an independent scholar at the Ronin Institute and an adjunct facutly at the University of Massachusetts. Most days she writes in a little coffee shop around the corner and overlooking the Sawmill River called the Lady Kiligrew at the Montague Bookmill in Montague, MA. Maybe see you there!
The fungus Batrachochytrium dendrobatidis, (commonly referred to as Bd) was first identified and described in 1999. Since then it has pushed world frog populations to, and sometimes beyond, the brink of extinction. The news is so grim that a recent study published by the Australian National University documents over 90 different amphibian species populations that are already gone. Wiped out. No more.
Bd is a fungal pathogen that sets off a skin disease, chytridiomycosis, which ravages the frog’s skin, disrupting their water/salt balance. Eventually the frogs (also toads, salamanders and other amphibians) succumb to the disease and die by way of heart failure. There is no effective, workable cure. Let me say that again, there is no effective, workable cure.
“In 2019 dozens of scientists . . . wrote of the destruction caused by Bd: “This represents the greatest documented loss of biodiversity attributable to a pathogen.” Before Bd, no one knew any disease could be so bad. Now they know.” (pg 27)
THE TREES
The fungus Cryphonectria parasitica is the reason most of us have never seen a full-grown American chestnut tree.
THE BANANAS
The fungus Fusarium oxysporum is the reason most of us have never laid eyes on a Gros Michel banana. And (it gets worse) the fungus Fusarium odoratissimum is the reason the Cavendish banana, the one we all know and love, may one day be history.
THE BATS
The fungus Pseudogymnoascus destructans is the reason bat populations are now at a fraction of their pre-pandemic levels. The fungal infection, commonly referred to as white nose syndrome, has hammered bat colonies all across the United States and Canada. In the case of northern long-eared bats and tricolored bats, the losses exceed 90 percent of their population. Population declines of that magnitude are unsustainable and, in some cases, eventual extinctions are inevitable.
HIGH ANXIETY
If reading all that triggered a panic attack, welcome to the club. But all is not yet lost. Emily Monosson, author and purveyor of bad news, offers us a little ray of light at the end of this ominous tunnel. The second half of Blight: Fungi and the Coming Pandemic is all about a path back to a bio-divergent planet. Monosson provides us with a roadmap to resolution. Her concluding chapters (titled Resistance, Diversity, Resurrection, Certification, and Responsibility) are written with scientific reason and measured optimism. This is not an uplifting read but it is, in the end, inspirational. _________________________________ The Worst Disease Ever Recorded
What! Another pandemic? This book describes the human pandemic that could potentially come from the biological kingdom of fungi which is separate from plants and animals—it’s actually more closely related to animal than plant. Of course not all fungi are bad. Many are our friends (e.g. bread yeast, mushrooms, penicillin) and are a major presence in our own gut microbiome.
So what’s the problem? Certain species of fungi have demonstrated devastating pathogenic characteristics. An alarming example is Candida auras which has evolved resistance to all three widely used anti fungal drugs. At present there are more than a thousand patients in the USA that have it, and on average thirty percent of them will die. Another example is Coccidioides infection known as Valley fever. More than 20,000 cases of Valley fever were reported in the USA in 2019, and on average two hundred people die per year.
Thus far in human history we’ve been spared from a true worldwide pandemic caused by fungal infections. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for some other species. Some examples include chestnut blight, Dutch elm disease, chytridiomycosis in amphibians, white pine blister rust, bat white-nose syndrome, and wheat stem rust. Most of this book is devoted to describing the history and current efforts at battling fungal infections in these and other examples. The future challenges are also speculated upon in the light of the new tools of genetic engineering and CRISPR technology.
There are an estimated six million species of fungi in the world and many have the potential of genetically evolving into more dangerous forms. Human world wide travel along with increased exposure to shipments of plants and animals contributes to the possible spread of fungal pathogenic forms. Also there are increased populations of humans with compromised immune systems from cancer and other medical issues who are at increased risk of infection. These and many other reasons lead to the conclusion that the potential of a future fungal pandemic is very real.
Emily Monosson is an author of several books on evolution, toxins, microbes, and how the three interact. She has clearly done a lot of research on "Fungi and the Coming Pandemic" (the subtitle of this book). She tells us a lot of interesting history and science. And then, unfortunately, she falls prey to the bane of many a science book before, the Call To Action.
Which is a shame, because there is an interesting topic here, not widely discussed in popular science. We tend to think of infection as bacteria or viruses, but fungi have a long history of being infections (of animals or especially of plants important to us), and for a variety of reasons it is not unlikely that they will be more of a problem in the future.
None of which means that it is entertaining, or enlightening, or educational, or even motivational, to read several chapters telling us to Get Our Act Together. We, as a society, do very little to either prepare for or prevent the spread of fungi, and it has caused a number of problems already and will cause more in the future. But, the sort of people who buy popular science books are not typically the sort to set policy, or be particularly influential over the ones who do, and in any case the more Call To Action there is in the book, the less likely I am to buy it, or finish it if I do.
I have long since resigned myself to the fact that the last chapter of every popular science book I read will be more or less skippable, with very little science left and a lot of lobbying, or even preaching. In this case it was the last two chapters, and in a 10-chapter book that's a sizable chunk. I started skimming.
But, if it were just a book with the first 8 chapters, it's a nice and tidy read on a fascinating area of biology (and history) which I knew very little about, and I am glad to have read that part at least.
Invasive species and foreign pathogens, crossing oceans, spores in sole threads. Humanity abolishes all borders, except for itself.
In form Blight is most like a collection of vignettes and review articles. Reading somewhat journalistic. The title is and isn't accurately alarming.
(This is a perhaps pedantic and wholly fruitless line of objection, but I am annoyed with 'DNA=book of linear readable programming code/text' tree of metaphor for its simplicity and outright heterology, and I'm growing increasingly convinced it just plays into the genetic imperialism that overruns Scientific™ perception.)
A really fascinating read! As a public health scientist, I am a bit of hoarder of "looming public health threat" type books, so I've read plenty about viruses, bacteria, and even prions -- but I think this must be the first I've read on fungi! Monosson explores several interesting examples of ongoing fungal epidemics and does a really fantastic job of inserting little snippets of the technical science in a very accessible way. My only complaint is that I wish it had focused a little less on different types of trees (more on animals + humans), but still a really enjoyable and informative read. Would recommend!
Shouldn’t have been marketed as a looming public health threat. Informative but definitely not cohesive. Was at its best when explaining how fungi impact agricultural industries and human health in that way. Very much enjoyed the section on rust fungi and white bark pine.
This book made me care about frogs and I HATE frogs. Very well written and understandable. Provides a good overview of the consequences of fungal outbreaks in humans, animals, and plants, which are becoming more common (and increasingly dangerous with the rise of antifungal resistance) mainly due to human behavior.
Despite the scary title, this is mostly not about threats to humans. It spends much more time on fungal diseases of trees, bats, frogs and fish and how we should be trying to prevent and ameliorate those problems. Of course there are and will be fungi that can kill us, such as desert fever and C. auris.
This book offers a fascinating and somewhat dire look at the current and potential pandemics caused by fungi, affecting species across the globe.
Discussions include fungi affecting humans, potatoes, bats, trees, frogs, bananas, and other life forms. And while terrifying, some hope for our ability to use science to overcome or avoid the effects exists.
It's a cautionary book about our mixed results from attempts to genetically modify or counteract against fungi, and the hubris of combating nature.
While I enjoyed this book overall, I wonder if "the Coming Pandemic" part of the title might be overselling things a bit. I expected this to have a much more human-focused, medical approach. It did, but not much. However, that doesn't take away from the picture being painted here.
Monosson looks at fungi and how they are evolving in response to climate change and increased global mobility. She writes about emerging fungal diseases that are affecting mammals more and more (white-nose syndrome in bats) and documents how fungal diseases have decimated amphibian populations world-wide. She also highlights fungal threats to food sources like bananas, and how are responses often exacerbate the problem. I'd forgotten that the blight that all but wiped out the American chestnut was a fungal disease.
It's not all gloom and doom, but this is a good overview of where we are in our understanding of the fungal landscape and the impacts it has, and likely will have, on our world.
[Aside: While discussing this with a colleague, she made me aware of the term "sporror" as a fiction genre. Definitely looking into that!]
I wish that had been a series of articles. There's some really interesting material here, and it certainly has a central thread, but it felt too padded to me. It's too bad, because I found the beginning FASCINATING, particularly the rise of fungal infections in humans. But I wondered about a lot of the historical evidence (or lack thereof) - I felt like disease that have (probably?) been around for a loooooong time, like thrush and yeast infections, weren't discussed. I also felt like the topic of increased rates of being immunocompromised were not treated with much care or consideration:
"An invasive fungal infection used to be a rare occurrence in the clinic. “If you had a fungal infection,” recalls Levitz of his early days in medicine in the 1980s, “the case would be presented at a conference,” that’s how rare they were. “Now we see them all the time.” The reason is because we live in the age of the immunocompromised. A growing global population lives with immune systems that are compromised to some degree."
It seems like the alternative would be to live without advanced medical care and antibiotics, right? I understand that the emphasis was on fungal pathogens but I would have appreciated if the discussion were a bit more nuanced.
Also, while again I appreciated the writing in the first portion of the book and the explinations of fungal biology, later sections seemed to need tighter editing to me. For example: "The old saying “the rabbit died” doesn’t necessarily mean a positive test because all the rabbits were killed. The frogs promised a less fraught test. Physicians simply injected them with a woman’s urine sample" - do we really need all the text here? Fraught for whom? Also if we're going to go that far into the rabbit pregnancy test, which really isn't needed in the first place, why not explain what happened after the rabbits were killed? I found myself getting increasingly frustrated with the writing as the book went on, but that may have been related to my decreasing interest in the new topics.
Emily Monsson, author of "Blight: Fungi and the Coming Pandemic" has created an excellent book which reasonably hypothesizes the impact of climate change and the inevitable introduction of formerly exotic species of fungi. She also explores the wide-ranging impact and extinction threats we're seeing today, before things turn truly dire. Very insightful and somewhat terrifying in scope, to be honest. A bit dry and overly repetitive at times, this book is still super-interesting and provides some uncomfortable food for thought long after finishing the work.
I'm trying to read more non-fiction this year. Why? I have no idea, but that's the goal. Non-fiction goes down easier for me in audiobook format so that's how I consumed this book.The narrator did a fine job but the subject matter was...not as dramatically interesting as I had hoped. I wasn't expecting drama and alarm at the level of "The Last of Us" but I needed more than just having a huge chunk of the book spent discussing fungal contamination of trees. It's important stuff,to be sure, but not presented in the most interesting way.
Scary stuff! Our activities, especially moving species all over the world, have put many groups of plants and animals at risk. Fungal pathogens have put many taxa on the brink of extinction, especially when they become part of novel associations with new species. These pathogens are particularly hard or impossible to control, and for some plants and animals, massive die offs, sometimes with survivors having some level of resistance that allows their species to get by, in others, perhaps not. Mammals, including humans, have had some level of protection due to their higher body temperatures, but the times are a changing. Currently, and increasing so in the future, the battle against fungal pathogens for our crops, and for ourselves, will be a major issue. This book provides a well written account of what is at risk, case studies of successes and failures in the battle against fungal pathogens, and some of the scientists leading the charge with breeding programs for plants, quarantine procedures, and increasingly, genomic studies. Development of new anti-fungal agents will continue to be vital in our own fight. The fungi are amazing organisms, and can mostly be considered vital members of ecosystem, and microbiomes, and many are vital to our own lives. However, the few harmful ones can be very serious agents of disease, and we will likely encounter more of these in the future. One more contributor to a bleak future for our species, and many others, but we continue to develop new methods to understand the fungi - they are well worth the study! I hope that the few problematic species do not turn people away from this amazing Kingdom of life. There are dangerous species for sure, but many of our actions have made them this way. Well worth the read!
Many reviews seemed disappointed that this wasn’t suggesting a “The Last of Us” scenario… pandemics do not just refer to human infections. This was a very interesting read and highly detailed with tips to help reduce potential outbreaks that could harm agriculture or biodiversity (and thereby impact humans). If you are curious about fungi, diseases, or issues exacerbated by climate change, this book is for you.
While this book definitely contained some interesting information, there was just much more time spent on plant diseases than on human fungal illnesses which is what I more wanted to learn about. The sections on the “doomsday” seed vault and potential for widespread impacts on the world’s major staple grains could have been expanded in my opinion.
Everything I want in a nonfiction book: detailed & technical, and yet also readable and grounded in storytelling. Plus, it finishes with discussions of space. Will definitely be writing a variety of things inspired by this both on the creative & philosophy side of things!
Fantastic discussion about the persistence of fungi, how they've wreaked havoc in the past, and some advice about how we can help prevent (or at least lessen) the next pandemic caused by fungi
Good overview of a neglected area of public attention that suffers from the usual hosts of problems of other areas that lack public attention. More hopeful than I expected. Good reading company for The Last of Us.
Having consumed plenty of media related to the Covid-19 pandemic the last few years, I entered the Goodreads giveaway for this book thinking that this would educate us on the next big threat that none of us are thinking about. And it does, ably.
But while it is descriptive of how widespread and devastating fungi can be, it doesn't connect the dots, go deep into policy prescriptions, or speculate on what that pandemic might look like or how serious it could be in a way that lives up to the book's description. It describes early in the book how fungi previously unable to thrive in humans due to their body temperature have adapted and pose a real threat to the future. And then it moves on to other species, like trees, frogs, bananas, and so forth. Felt like it kind of left me hanging.
I wasn't looking for anything alarmist about the threat, but in my opinion this book actually might not be alarmist enough. But it's certainly worth a read for people who want a reasonably deep dive into the devastation fungi can wreak.
This book is fascinating. I have a horticultural background and had heard of all of the fungi that largely effected plants discussed in this book. I hadn’t heard updates on some of these in a while so it was nice to get some new info.
I do wish this book had more human fungus content because that was new to me and extremely interesting.
And this book included some hope for the little brown bats which is nice. (Those poor little guys. It breaks my heart.)
There were a couple chapters towards the end that could have been wrapped up a lot faster but the book finished strong.
Let's dispense with my greatest nit to be picked about Blight: Fungi and the Coming Pandemic, the title. The word pandemic denotes a multinational disease affecting animal life with a decided emphasis on human animals. However, Monosson's book is decidedly focused on plant diseases, particularly those spread by fungal spores, which are ubiquitous in the environment. Personally, I would be perfectly happy to apply the term pandemic to botanical diseases; however, multiple online and print dictionaries are quite clear that it applies to diseases infecting humans. The word itself derives from Greek pandēmos meaning “of all the people.” The title, one must conclude, is misleading and does not accurately describe the contents of the book.
Since I've begun by picking nits, we may as well get the minor ones out of the way as well. While Blight is generally well written with few stylistic errors, as readers near the end they do encounter a few surprising grammatical faux pas. Page 193 tells us that fungi “will bide their time in some other species—a plant or an animal—waiting for a preferred host or lay [sic] dormant in the soil for months or years as spores.” I do not expect a professional author to confuse the verbs lie and lay. As readers are recovering from this shock, along comes this on page 200: “I am grateful to Luis Pocasangre, who hosted my husband and I [sic] at EARTH University in Costa Rica. . . .” A pronoun object of the verb hosted should be in the objective case, not the nominative. Much earlier in the book on page 148, the acronym for The American Chestnut Foundation is given as TAFC instead of the correct TACF. Yes, these are isolated errors that fortunately do not characterize most of the text; still, considering the work of the author, the editor, the proofreader, and others who, according to the acknowledgments, also read the text before publication, there should be none whatsoever foisted upon readers of the published book.
What precisely does Monosson wish to accomplish in her book? Page 199 refers to an article in Nature magazine entitled “Emerging Fungal Threats to Animal, Plant and Ecosystem Health,” and Monosson observes that “scientists were ringing a warning bell.” She explains that one of her goals “was to amplify their warning and wake readers up to the breadth of species lost to fungal pathogens that have gone pandemic. Another goal was to remind them that this is just the beginning unless we take responsibility for our actions, which have aided these outbreaks.” Blight does a very effective job in accomplishing these goals—at least among those who will read it.
Are there indeed pandemic (to use the word as Monosson does, etymologically accurate or not) diseases among the Earth's plants and non-human animals that impact the planet's ecosystem? She offers many examples: coffee rust, the American chestnut tree, California's tanoak and live oak trees, tar spot fungus on corn crops, the Netherland's fire salamanders, potato blight, a species of frogs in Costa Rica, Fusarium wilt of bananas, and more. As for causes of such widespread infections, especially as they are worsened by human action, she cites the planting of monocultures by farmers and the inadequately regulated worldwide trade in animals and plants by commercial dealers.
I did not find this an especially entertaining book nor one characterized by inspired or engrossing text. Explanations of genetic manipulation of plants with the goal of heightening natural resistance to infection seemed to become a bit too technical at times for easy comprehension by laymen. Nonetheless, I did find Blight informative and, as the author hoped, a wake up call as to the breadth of species damaged or lost to fungal pathogens. There are portions of the book of interest to readers who wish to expand their knowledge of agricultural practices, international trade in animal and plant species, fungi and fungal spores, ecology and the Earth's ecosystem, methods of (unintentionally) spreading disease across oceans and continents, and even a bit of the science of genetics. Blight is not unduly long, 203 pages not counting peritext, and is surely worthy of one's time expended in its reading. Just be prepared to concentrate fairly frequently to achieve a firm grasp of the content.
Blight: Fungi and The Coming Pandemic is a work of nature nonfiction that explores the implications fungi can have on various branches of ecosystems and the delicate balance on which our world teeters. The book is divided into two sections: Consequences and Resolutions.
The “Consequences” section gives examples of fungal pandemics that have taken various organisms by storm throughout history and the present. Each chapter focuses on a specific group, touching upon endemic instances in amphibians (frogs and salamanders), mammals (humans and bats), agriculture (bananas and other monocrops), and trees (chestnut and white pine), just to name a few. Monosson traces how these fungal disruptions could have possibly been introduced to these species that have not evolved fast enough to protect themselves from this attack by human expansion of global transportation.
The “Resolutions” section circled back to each of the instances relayed in the “Consequences” section, discussing the historical and current action steps people are making in the science, agricultural, and legal work. It discusses various experiments and laws that are helping reduce blight amongst native species, as well as imports and exports of plant life and wildlife. It even extends to the possible outcomes of space travel and microbial spread beyond Earth.
This book was not quite what I expected. As a whole, this book was informative and I learned a lot about the deathly side of fungi on a large scale. Honestly, if it weren’t for this book, I would not have known about the mass death of bats identified in Howe Caverns, a location I have visited quite a few times in my life, and is one of my favorite places. I hoped that this book would have dove more into the science behind fungi and how they work on a deeper level; moreover, this book was more of an overview of the fungi and discussed more of the effect on these various species and dove deep into that aspect. I picked up this book due to my fascination with fungi but got a narrative that educated me more on awareness. We do not need to focus on the “monstrosity” but on the consequences and possible resolutions for victimized species to survive extinctions and bounce back.