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Cats’ Paws and Catapults: Mechanical Worlds of Nature and People
"Full of ideas and well-explained principles that will bring new understanding of everyday things to both scientists and non-scientists alike."―R. McNeill Alexander, Nature Nature and humans build their devices with the same earthly materials and use them in the same air and water, pulled by the same gravity. Why, then, do their designs diverge so sharply? Humans, for instance, love right angles, while nature's angles are rarely right and usually rounded. Our technology goes around on wheels―and on rotating pulleys, gears, shafts, and cams―yet in nature only the tiny propellers of bacteria spin as true wheels. Our hinges turn because hard parts slide around each other, whereas nature's hinges (a rabbit's ear, for example) more often swing by bending flexible materials. In this marvelously surprising, witty book, Steven Vogel compares these two mechanical worlds, introduces the reader to his field of biomechanics, and explains how the nexus of physical law, size, and convenience of construction determine the designs of both people and nature. "This elegant comparison of human and biological technology will forever change the way you look at each."―Michael LaBarbera, American Scientist Illustrated
384 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1998
51 people are currently reading
647 people want to read
About the author
Steven Vogel
25 books16 followersLibrarian Note: There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name. See this thread for more information.
Steven Vogel is James B. Duke Professor, Emeritus, in the Department of Biology at Duke University.
As it has turned out, my activities as a teacher and writer have extended well beyond the explication of the immediate results of research. The first two of my seven books, A Functional Bestiary: Laboratory Studies about Living Systems and A Model Menagerie: Laboratory Studies about Living Systems, provide eclectic material for teaching laboratories in introductory biology. The third, Life in Moving Fluids, finds most use as an entry point into fluid mechanics; it is now in its second (much enlarged) edition. The fourth, Life's Devices, takes comparative biomechanics as a paradigm for thinking about science, using the very mundanity of the subject to draw in non-scientists rather than presenting them with some system of revelation. The book was generated through a course given to adults in a non-specialist master's program and is now in use in a variety of undergraduate courses; it was selected by a science-oriented book club and has won a substantial award. Material in that book reappears in expanded and more sophisticated form in my recent undergraduate textbook, Comparative Biomechanics. The fifth, Vital Circuits, is of a deliberately less pedagogical character; it's about circulatory systems, whose disabilities are of widespread interest. But it uses them as a vehicle to talk in biological rather than pathological terms and to illustrate how a such a subject is viewed by a biological scientist in contrast to a journalist or a physician. Cats' Paws and Catapults, also aimed at the general reader, compares the mechanical technologies of nature with that of humans. Prime Mover, another trade book, tries to link the biomechanics and physiology of muscle to the role it has played in human activities. Finally, I've written for more popular publications, such as Natural History and Discover, attempting to create pieces that explain science rather than merely reporting on the current activities of scientists, and I've become involved with several science museums, again in activities aimed at explaining science as part of contemporary culture. Two additional books, both aimed at a general scientific readership, are currently in gestation.
Steven Vogel is James B. Duke Professor, Emeritus, in the Department of Biology at Duke University.
As it has turned out, my activities as a teacher and writer have extended well beyond the explication of the immediate results of research. The first two of my seven books, A Functional Bestiary: Laboratory Studies about Living Systems and A Model Menagerie: Laboratory Studies about Living Systems, provide eclectic material for teaching laboratories in introductory biology. The third, Life in Moving Fluids, finds most use as an entry point into fluid mechanics; it is now in its second (much enlarged) edition. The fourth, Life's Devices, takes comparative biomechanics as a paradigm for thinking about science, using the very mundanity of the subject to draw in non-scientists rather than presenting them with some system of revelation. The book was generated through a course given to adults in a non-specialist master's program and is now in use in a variety of undergraduate courses; it was selected by a science-oriented book club and has won a substantial award. Material in that book reappears in expanded and more sophisticated form in my recent undergraduate textbook, Comparative Biomechanics. The fifth, Vital Circuits, is of a deliberately less pedagogical character; it's about circulatory systems, whose disabilities are of widespread interest. But it uses them as a vehicle to talk in biological rather than pathological terms and to illustrate how a such a subject is viewed by a biological scientist in contrast to a journalist or a physician. Cats' Paws and Catapults, also aimed at the general reader, compares the mechanical technologies of nature with that of humans. Prime Mover, another trade book, tries to link the biomechanics and physiology of muscle to the role it has played in human activities. Finally, I've written for more popular publications, such as Natural History and Discover, attempting to create pieces that explain science rather than merely reporting on the current activities of scientists, and I've become involved with several science museums, again in activities aimed at explaining science as part of contemporary culture. Two additional books, both aimed at a general scientific readership, are currently in gestation.
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Displaying 1 - 23 of 23 reviews
July 3, 2018
This is one of those science-type books that are always difficult for me, as I am, admittedly, not the brightest person in the world. I think I would classify my intelligence as third-rate, if even that. However, my brain is always striving for more (even if the rest of me isn't) so I was compelled to read this to see if I could somehow get to the second-rate level.
The premise of the book is rather fascinating. How do the works of mankind (skyscrapers, aeroplanes, computers) compare with the works of nature (spider webs, seashells, bird wings)? Humans work off right angles while nature loves curves. It's all very interesting, particularly when you realize there's more to muscles and running versus walking and...oh just a bunch of stuff.
Alas, my mind remains third-tier, so I ended up watching more watch-the-husky-dog-talk videos on YouTube than getting into the details of this book. But it really is fascinating.
Book Season = Winter (perfect for snowbounds)
The premise of the book is rather fascinating. How do the works of mankind (skyscrapers, aeroplanes, computers) compare with the works of nature (spider webs, seashells, bird wings)? Humans work off right angles while nature loves curves. It's all very interesting, particularly when you realize there's more to muscles and running versus walking and...oh just a bunch of stuff.
Alas, my mind remains third-tier, so I ended up watching more watch-the-husky-dog-talk videos on YouTube than getting into the details of this book. But it really is fascinating.
Book Season = Winter (perfect for snowbounds)
November 2, 2022
Nature may show what’s possible, but she’s a poor guide to what’s worth doing. The combination of high toughness and low resilience means that lots of energy [in a spider web] can be absorbed in a stretch and that the energy doesn’t come out again as elastic rebound. In other words, spider silk is stretchy, but it doesn’t behave at all like a rubber band: it absorbs and then keeps the energy. But energy, according to the first law of thermodynamics, can’t be destroyed, and the energy appears as heat. Now that may not pose a problem for a skinny thread...but imagine using a rope of spider silk to stop a falling body or a moving aircraft. If the rope is thick enough to do such a big job, the silk will be immediately ruined by the resulting increase in its temperature. (p. 286-287)
A good science book can make you see the world around you in a new way. While reading this one I took a walk around my neighborhood to look at street sign stanchions. One kind was a round pole, the best shape to deflect high winds. Another was a square pole with rows of holes punched into the four sides, to lower both weight and wind resistance. A third type was a simple rectangular post with a U-shaped centerline indentation running along its length, a corrugation to increase strength. Needless to say, I had never noticed any of this before. There did not seem to be a plan for which types of posts went where, but all of the designs must serve their purpose, since I’ve never seen one blown down or a sign blown off.
Cat’s Paws and Catapults has many examples like this, and is well illustrated to make its points clear. It looks at engineering from the perspectives of both nature and humans. There are many similarities, but even more differences, because of environmental and material constraints. Size can make a big a difference in choosing a solution, since at some scales gravity is less of a factor than, say, surface tension. On the other hand, some commonalities exist across a vast range of sizes, “An individual muscle of a tiny insect might weigh a microgram; a large muscle of a big whale may approach a hundred kilograms – several hundred pounds. Those masses are a hundred billion times different, 10^11-fold, and performance doesn’t deteriorate noticeably at either extreme.” (p. 176)
Although nature has evolved some giants, most life exists at a smaller scale than humans. “Not only are most organisms smaller that we, but in most groups smallness is the ancestral condition and largeness the specialization. Big fossils are impressive, but little ones are more likely to lead somewhere.” (p. 41)
And nature has been at this for a very long time. Traces of life go back at least 3.8 billion years, but it was not until the arrival of multi-cellular creatures sometime before the Cambrian Explosion (a slow motion, 20 million year “explosion”) about 540 million years ago that evolution shifted into high gear, beginning a never-ending competition of shells versus teeth, speed versus stealth, size versus maneuverability, and many other trait permutations. Our primate ancestors were late to this game. There is disputed evidence of tool use as far back as 3.3 million years ago, but it does not show up clearly in the fossil record for another 700,000 years. Modern humans evolved about 300,000 years ago, by which time tools were an ancient trait of our hominin ancestors.
Almost all living things, plant, animal, or bacteria, have approximately the same density as water. As a result they all follow the same size/weight/volume rules, and thus, for example, a fish that is twice as long as another of the same shape will weigh eight times as much. Such factors come into play across a wide variety of engineering considerations. “A wing’s lift varies with its area, just as its drag does. Therefore, doubling length (while keeping shape unaltered) gives a craft four times the lift but eight times the weight….One solution is having really large wings on the larger craft; another is to fly somewhat faster: Like drag, lift goes up with speed through the air.” (p. 46)
Nature can build with fantastic precision, but standardization is at the species rather than the individual level. Medical students learn the names of the large blood vessels, but not the small ones, because the locations of these vary from person to person. (p. 236) Nature rarely resorts to cloning, and even then usually only as a last result when sexual selection is not available. Furthermore, the materials of life are fragile and require constant upkeep.
Humans build with elemental metals, something no other living creature has evolved to do, although there is widespread use of metallic compounds. The author considers the reasons for this, and the answer may be that the first creatures were simply too small to accommodate the necessary functions required to process metals, and by they time they were large enough to do so they had already evolved along different paths.
As a general rule, we build things that are large and go fast, and while nature makes them small and slow, they are nevertheless true engines, and have passed evolution’s unforgiving test of fitness to pass along their genes. “An ordinary corn plant lifts about four quarts of water each day from the soil. Lifting is work, so a corn plant must have an engine, as must almost all terrestrial plants. The main engine is simple but strange: a direct-acting solar-powered evaporative engine.” (p. 172)
While I was out looking at street signs, I paused to consider the flying, flitting, buzzing critters around my hedge. Marvels of design that are lightweight, efficient, and superbly fitted for the task of survival, this time I saw them not as simply insects, but as brilliantly evolved biological machines. As I watched the sunlight glinting off their wings, it reminded me of another illuminating quote from the book: “When it comes to stiffening flat plates with a minimum of material, nothing touches insect wings. Insects commonly invest only about 1 percent of body mass in their wings. Yet the wings move at several meters per second through the air, and many reverse their movement several hundred times each second. To get sufficient stiffness for this demanding application, they combine curvature, veins, and lengthwise pleats.” (p. 62)
To ask whether nature or humans do a better job of engineering is to ask the wrong question. The best design is the one that meets the design criteria most efficiently and effectively. Sometimes that means a jet engine on a four hundred ton aircraft hurtling through the sky at a large fraction of the speed of sound, and sometimes it means a squid pulling in water and then expelling it to move, another type of jet engine. Both are superbly designed for the tasks they perform.
A good science book can make you see the world around you in a new way. While reading this one I took a walk around my neighborhood to look at street sign stanchions. One kind was a round pole, the best shape to deflect high winds. Another was a square pole with rows of holes punched into the four sides, to lower both weight and wind resistance. A third type was a simple rectangular post with a U-shaped centerline indentation running along its length, a corrugation to increase strength. Needless to say, I had never noticed any of this before. There did not seem to be a plan for which types of posts went where, but all of the designs must serve their purpose, since I’ve never seen one blown down or a sign blown off.
Cat’s Paws and Catapults has many examples like this, and is well illustrated to make its points clear. It looks at engineering from the perspectives of both nature and humans. There are many similarities, but even more differences, because of environmental and material constraints. Size can make a big a difference in choosing a solution, since at some scales gravity is less of a factor than, say, surface tension. On the other hand, some commonalities exist across a vast range of sizes, “An individual muscle of a tiny insect might weigh a microgram; a large muscle of a big whale may approach a hundred kilograms – several hundred pounds. Those masses are a hundred billion times different, 10^11-fold, and performance doesn’t deteriorate noticeably at either extreme.” (p. 176)
Although nature has evolved some giants, most life exists at a smaller scale than humans. “Not only are most organisms smaller that we, but in most groups smallness is the ancestral condition and largeness the specialization. Big fossils are impressive, but little ones are more likely to lead somewhere.” (p. 41)
And nature has been at this for a very long time. Traces of life go back at least 3.8 billion years, but it was not until the arrival of multi-cellular creatures sometime before the Cambrian Explosion (a slow motion, 20 million year “explosion”) about 540 million years ago that evolution shifted into high gear, beginning a never-ending competition of shells versus teeth, speed versus stealth, size versus maneuverability, and many other trait permutations. Our primate ancestors were late to this game. There is disputed evidence of tool use as far back as 3.3 million years ago, but it does not show up clearly in the fossil record for another 700,000 years. Modern humans evolved about 300,000 years ago, by which time tools were an ancient trait of our hominin ancestors.
Almost all living things, plant, animal, or bacteria, have approximately the same density as water. As a result they all follow the same size/weight/volume rules, and thus, for example, a fish that is twice as long as another of the same shape will weigh eight times as much. Such factors come into play across a wide variety of engineering considerations. “A wing’s lift varies with its area, just as its drag does. Therefore, doubling length (while keeping shape unaltered) gives a craft four times the lift but eight times the weight….One solution is having really large wings on the larger craft; another is to fly somewhat faster: Like drag, lift goes up with speed through the air.” (p. 46)
Nature can build with fantastic precision, but standardization is at the species rather than the individual level. Medical students learn the names of the large blood vessels, but not the small ones, because the locations of these vary from person to person. (p. 236) Nature rarely resorts to cloning, and even then usually only as a last result when sexual selection is not available. Furthermore, the materials of life are fragile and require constant upkeep.
To begin with, proteins are not the stablest of compounds, and their stability decreases (they rot faster) as the temperature goes up….That makes maintenance mandatory. The schedule for replacement tells us a lot about an organism’s problems. The most stable structural proteins are the most persistent; the less stable soluble proteins the least...The average half-life for the proteins in an adult human is about eighty days. So perfect is the replacement process that you can recall the events of many years ago. (p. 238-239)
Humans build with elemental metals, something no other living creature has evolved to do, although there is widespread use of metallic compounds. The author considers the reasons for this, and the answer may be that the first creatures were simply too small to accommodate the necessary functions required to process metals, and by they time they were large enough to do so they had already evolved along different paths.
As a general rule, we build things that are large and go fast, and while nature makes them small and slow, they are nevertheless true engines, and have passed evolution’s unforgiving test of fitness to pass along their genes. “An ordinary corn plant lifts about four quarts of water each day from the soil. Lifting is work, so a corn plant must have an engine, as must almost all terrestrial plants. The main engine is simple but strange: a direct-acting solar-powered evaporative engine.” (p. 172)
While I was out looking at street signs, I paused to consider the flying, flitting, buzzing critters around my hedge. Marvels of design that are lightweight, efficient, and superbly fitted for the task of survival, this time I saw them not as simply insects, but as brilliantly evolved biological machines. As I watched the sunlight glinting off their wings, it reminded me of another illuminating quote from the book: “When it comes to stiffening flat plates with a minimum of material, nothing touches insect wings. Insects commonly invest only about 1 percent of body mass in their wings. Yet the wings move at several meters per second through the air, and many reverse their movement several hundred times each second. To get sufficient stiffness for this demanding application, they combine curvature, veins, and lengthwise pleats.” (p. 62)
To ask whether nature or humans do a better job of engineering is to ask the wrong question. The best design is the one that meets the design criteria most efficiently and effectively. Sometimes that means a jet engine on a four hundred ton aircraft hurtling through the sky at a large fraction of the speed of sound, and sometimes it means a squid pulling in water and then expelling it to move, another type of jet engine. Both are superbly designed for the tasks they perform.
September 2, 2020
This is an interesting and informative, scholarly, comparative overview of the difference between the way nature and humans engineer and manufacture things, the differences in the substances each uses to make those things, and the possibilities of why man and nature make things differently. Vogel has a clear, easy to understand writing style and provides many examples and diagrams to illustrate a point.
Other books:
~How to Walk on Water and Climb Up Walls: Animal Movement and the Robots of the Future by David L. Hu
~The Gecko’s Foot: How Scientists are Taking a Leaf from Nature's Book by Peter Forbes
Other books:
~How to Walk on Water and Climb Up Walls: Animal Movement and the Robots of the Future by David L. Hu
~The Gecko’s Foot: How Scientists are Taking a Leaf from Nature's Book by Peter Forbes
dnf
February 13, 2025I haven't been able to read beyond page 100, and I figure it's a good place to stop after all. This was actually pretty interesting, a comparison between man-made technology and nature's technology, but it's also HARD, think undergraduate primer rather than pop science, new ideas every paragraph, tons of technical words (from a non-native pov anyway).
The nice thing is that once immersed, I started looking at the world differently, the legs of insects, the angle between trunks and branches, the properties of packaging materials from online orders... The parts on flight were also particularly enjoyable, I started thinking about the logistics of flying, which way feathers curve, how birds glide compared to planes... lots of interesting "fun facts" for sure.
The nice thing is that once immersed, I started looking at the world differently, the legs of insects, the angle between trunks and branches, the properties of packaging materials from online orders... The parts on flight were also particularly enjoyable, I started thinking about the logistics of flying, which way feathers curve, how birds glide compared to planes... lots of interesting "fun facts" for sure.
April 25, 2023
There are some very interesting sections in this book but lord is it ever dull reading.
Read
May 14, 2012Tough going at times but ultimately quite rewarding. Wish I had read this during physics/while studying for the MCATs. Vogel has a knack for making complex ideas both accessible and relevant, just what you want in a popular science book. The premise: compare human engineering with the way nature solves the same problems. For example: engines, how to swim, fly, make a material hard, repair something already made, etc. The differences are striking. Discussion with the somatic synthesis group tough at times but I took away a couple really key ideas. One is the dangers of E Wilson's "biophilia" - just because nature does something one way, it doesn't mean it is the best for us. While for some this might seem obvious, I'm interested in catching when I inadvertently fall into this kind of thinking. Another idea is to be more conscious of metaphor. The physics of our joints is quite different than any human made "hinge." The mechanics of the pulsing of a jellyfish and our thoracic diaphragm are quite different, despite how similar they may appear. My teacher pointed out how this book explored the idea of "internal consistency" in an interesting way. Nature's swimming/floating devices and human swimming/floating devices are profoundly different, but both serve their own purposes. How can we be internally consistent in our own choices? Teach/act/live in a way that solves the problems we set out to solve. This book also inspired me to learn more about engineering, a topic I've never given any thought to. All in all, many interesting ideas to ponder, worth a re-read, and I'm excited about exploring his other books.
September 16, 2016
A pretty thorough book on the differences of the way man makes things and the way nature creates things. The book goes through the various points- going through like systems and how the exist in each domain. The book goes into some detail comparing the two and how the two worlds dominate certain elements.
The book can get bogged down a bit in some getting a bit too detailed, though if you are into that you'll be fine. I would have liked a bit more visuals to accompany the book and also it would have been nice to see more about how nature's creations working within the world (in the environment) vs man's machines. All in all, a very nice book, and not so horribly technical to be inaccessible to those who are not engineer majors.
Then end of the book where the summing up occurs is probably the most interesting part where Vogel really starts to list the differences and says that while nature inspires man-made works- the two are distinctly different. Also that science doesn't always make innovations as much as people who are inspired and start to play with ideas that nature gives them. (I've actually read this stated a number of times in other sources.) Also, he does touch on the topic of nature being seen as superior to man-made and says that that belief is unfounded. That both are unique and have their strengths and deserve kudos. So, if you want understand how nature creates and then how man-made things differ and appreciate both it's a great book for that... it can be long winded at times but overall a great book on the topic.
The book can get bogged down a bit in some getting a bit too detailed, though if you are into that you'll be fine. I would have liked a bit more visuals to accompany the book and also it would have been nice to see more about how nature's creations working within the world (in the environment) vs man's machines. All in all, a very nice book, and not so horribly technical to be inaccessible to those who are not engineer majors.
Then end of the book where the summing up occurs is probably the most interesting part where Vogel really starts to list the differences and says that while nature inspires man-made works- the two are distinctly different. Also that science doesn't always make innovations as much as people who are inspired and start to play with ideas that nature gives them. (I've actually read this stated a number of times in other sources.) Also, he does touch on the topic of nature being seen as superior to man-made and says that that belief is unfounded. That both are unique and have their strengths and deserve kudos. So, if you want understand how nature creates and then how man-made things differ and appreciate both it's a great book for that... it can be long winded at times but overall a great book on the topic.
June 7, 2016
An extremely important work comparing the mechanical designs of nature and those created by man. Many have touched on this as a pure engineering question but Vogel/Davis seem to have developed the most complete and challenging analysis of the subject. Read about rotating shafts vs articulating motions and appreciate the very different boundary conditions for designing in the biological vs. the material realm. Great book to have for enforcing reason when Software experts start to babble about evolving a product.
January 28, 2023
Cats' Paws and Catapults
A pretty great book! Scrap was trying to get me to read this for aaaages and I REFUSED! But I am glad I have read it now. It's by Steven Vogel.
WHAT ABOUT
Why do nature and mankind design things so differently?
This is a pop-sci book and it reminded me again that I am fucking stupid. Most of the difficult (for me) stuff is at the beginning, like; what’s the difference between _Strength_, _Strain_, Stiffness_, Toughness_, and _Resilience_, which in terms of building things are all quite distance properties of things.
I definitely knew this _briefly_ at some point reading this and have forgotten since, much like most of my STEM education since birth.
THE ABYSS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE
One of my favourite things about this book is the way it highlights and discusses just what we *don't* know and the extent to which we don't know it.
Human knowledge like an ink blot expanding on plain paper, the area of the ink blot ever growing but if the line of the perimeter of the blot is measured, (made fractal and jagged by the grains and curls of the paper as it drinks in the ink) then this line, the zone between white and dark, between known and unknown, is growing and growing and growing all the time.
Yet we rarely feel this in our daily lives, that the abyss of unknowing is opening endlessly before us. Instead we feel the gradual advance of human knowledge, its absorbing and explaining of new domains.
Of course this is true; the ink blot is gradually spreading, so man may stand in its centre and say "I am the king of the ink blot and my empire is ever-growing". Yet, an invisible rider might dash along the rim of the ink blot and say "I am the lord of the wastes and as your Empire grows, so does mine, invisible to you".
Why?
- Mental 'distance' from the unknown; unknown things are more and more abstruse and difficult to describe to normal people. Previously you could say, "what is the sun?", but now you need an education in physics to understand what we don't know about physics.
- Recursive tendency of reason; it often 'curls back' upon itself explaining itself in terms of itself and so reason is often blind to gaps in itself.
- General logical positivist boosterism of society, (not that bad), and collapse of scientific enquiry into basically an ADHD marketing scam (quite bad).
- Fundamental difficulty of conceptualising 'the unknown' as most of the unknown is very unknown so we don't even know it is there to talk about it, and the bits we do know about are only somewhat unknown since we can actually conceive of them.
At the end of many of his chapters, Vogel takes us into some of the difficult questions about nature and humanity and what and why each does they way they do (?)
Why does nature have only one confirmed example of rotational movement, why does she not use metals, why no jet-powered birds?
Simple questions but coming at the end of complex and descriptive chapters about the structures of nature, types of levers and limbs and the development of human and bird flight, Vogel is allowed, or he provides himself with enough context and impetus _to_, shape the questions as something other than just a blank 'well we don't know'.
Reading this, one desired strongly to voyage to other planets with life to find out just how much of earth evolution is 'normal actually' and how much is just 'well it was random but it sort of works so we stuck with it'. These are unanswerable and, without the strong armature of detail and imagination Vogel casts around them, not _unaskable_, but mutely irrelevant, self-consuming questions.
THE MORAL POINT AT THE END
As well as being an educational textbook Vogel has a philosophy which I approve of and agree with.
Which is; that the engineering domains of humanity and nature are different houses, best regarded differently. That while we have learned a lot from nature, many examples of direct copying are overstated or illusory, that often we have done a lot better when we have *stopped* trying to copy nature, done what we can to learn and understand basic principals and, when creating, done things our own way (i.e. abandoning years and years and years of attempted 'birdlike' flight, which was never going to work for us).
It's a distancing from the 'nature is always beautiful and always first and always right' view, but it is not the opposing Melkorist view either, but a careful and rigorous separation of two domains, insisting that each be accounted for by its own rules and considered separately, without worshipping or degrading either.
its... sensible? It takes an entire book and point layered on careful point, with histories, diagrams and descriptions to make and reinforce this by the end, very sensible and elegant concept which once received, seems like the simplest thing in the world.
A pretty great book! Scrap was trying to get me to read this for aaaages and I REFUSED! But I am glad I have read it now. It's by Steven Vogel.
WHAT ABOUT
Why do nature and mankind design things so differently?
This is a pop-sci book and it reminded me again that I am fucking stupid. Most of the difficult (for me) stuff is at the beginning, like; what’s the difference between _Strength_, _Strain_, Stiffness_, Toughness_, and _Resilience_, which in terms of building things are all quite distance properties of things.
I definitely knew this _briefly_ at some point reading this and have forgotten since, much like most of my STEM education since birth.
THE ABYSS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE
One of my favourite things about this book is the way it highlights and discusses just what we *don't* know and the extent to which we don't know it.
Human knowledge like an ink blot expanding on plain paper, the area of the ink blot ever growing but if the line of the perimeter of the blot is measured, (made fractal and jagged by the grains and curls of the paper as it drinks in the ink) then this line, the zone between white and dark, between known and unknown, is growing and growing and growing all the time.
Yet we rarely feel this in our daily lives, that the abyss of unknowing is opening endlessly before us. Instead we feel the gradual advance of human knowledge, its absorbing and explaining of new domains.
Of course this is true; the ink blot is gradually spreading, so man may stand in its centre and say "I am the king of the ink blot and my empire is ever-growing". Yet, an invisible rider might dash along the rim of the ink blot and say "I am the lord of the wastes and as your Empire grows, so does mine, invisible to you".
Why?
- Mental 'distance' from the unknown; unknown things are more and more abstruse and difficult to describe to normal people. Previously you could say, "what is the sun?", but now you need an education in physics to understand what we don't know about physics.
- Recursive tendency of reason; it often 'curls back' upon itself explaining itself in terms of itself and so reason is often blind to gaps in itself.
- General logical positivist boosterism of society, (not that bad), and collapse of scientific enquiry into basically an ADHD marketing scam (quite bad).
- Fundamental difficulty of conceptualising 'the unknown' as most of the unknown is very unknown so we don't even know it is there to talk about it, and the bits we do know about are only somewhat unknown since we can actually conceive of them.
At the end of many of his chapters, Vogel takes us into some of the difficult questions about nature and humanity and what and why each does they way they do (?)
Why does nature have only one confirmed example of rotational movement, why does she not use metals, why no jet-powered birds?
Simple questions but coming at the end of complex and descriptive chapters about the structures of nature, types of levers and limbs and the development of human and bird flight, Vogel is allowed, or he provides himself with enough context and impetus _to_, shape the questions as something other than just a blank 'well we don't know'.
Reading this, one desired strongly to voyage to other planets with life to find out just how much of earth evolution is 'normal actually' and how much is just 'well it was random but it sort of works so we stuck with it'. These are unanswerable and, without the strong armature of detail and imagination Vogel casts around them, not _unaskable_, but mutely irrelevant, self-consuming questions.
THE MORAL POINT AT THE END
As well as being an educational textbook Vogel has a philosophy which I approve of and agree with.
Which is; that the engineering domains of humanity and nature are different houses, best regarded differently. That while we have learned a lot from nature, many examples of direct copying are overstated or illusory, that often we have done a lot better when we have *stopped* trying to copy nature, done what we can to learn and understand basic principals and, when creating, done things our own way (i.e. abandoning years and years and years of attempted 'birdlike' flight, which was never going to work for us).
It's a distancing from the 'nature is always beautiful and always first and always right' view, but it is not the opposing Melkorist view either, but a careful and rigorous separation of two domains, insisting that each be accounted for by its own rules and considered separately, without worshipping or degrading either.
its... sensible? It takes an entire book and point layered on careful point, with histories, diagrams and descriptions to make and reinforce this by the end, very sensible and elegant concept which once received, seems like the simplest thing in the world.
January 1, 2023
Mechanics, to paraphrase Wikipedia, is the area of science concerned with the relationships between force, matter, and motion among physical objects. Mechanics is about how objects move (or resist being moved) when forces like gravity, wind, or air/water pressure act on them. Biomechanics is the study of mechanics in living organisms. This book compares living things with the things that we humans make in terms of how they move, react to forces, and so on. Steven Vogel summarizes his thesis in the first few pages:
Vogel examines different aspects of mechanics in each chapter. He looks at topics such as size, shape, materials used to make things, ways to make things move, ways to make things move other things, manufacturing methods, and using nature's designs to inspire human-made devices.
This is an interesting book, and it made me look at everyday things more closely, from how I swing my legs when I walk to how door hinges work. I have a background in engineering and physics, so I could follow much of Vogel's discussion, but there were sections that are outside my experience, and I won't pretend that I was able to follow everything. Readers with a less technical background may find this a challenging book. It doesn't help that Vogel's style is not the easiest to read. Although he tries to keep it simple, some advanced vocabulary creeps in and his sentence construction is more formal than casual. Vogel attempts to lighten the mood occasionally with puns and "dad joke" level humour, but even his jokes are pretty sophisticated and might go over some readers' heads. Finally, this book is 25 years old as of 2023, and I can't help but wonder whether advances in materials science, chemistry, and biology in the past quarter-century might require updates to the book.
If you like science and technology and biology, you may find this book interesting. If you don't, it's still interesting, but it'll be hard work.
Natural and human technologies differ extensively and pervasively. We build dry and stiff structures; nature mostly makes hers wet and flexible. We build of metals; nature never does. Our hinges mainly slide; hers mostly bend. We do wonders with wheels and rotary motion; nature makes fully competent boats, aircraft, and terrestrial vehicles that lack them entirely. Our engines expand or spin; hers contract or slide. We fabricate large devices directly; nature's large things are cunning proliferations of tiny components.
Vogel examines different aspects of mechanics in each chapter. He looks at topics such as size, shape, materials used to make things, ways to make things move, ways to make things move other things, manufacturing methods, and using nature's designs to inspire human-made devices.
This is an interesting book, and it made me look at everyday things more closely, from how I swing my legs when I walk to how door hinges work. I have a background in engineering and physics, so I could follow much of Vogel's discussion, but there were sections that are outside my experience, and I won't pretend that I was able to follow everything. Readers with a less technical background may find this a challenging book. It doesn't help that Vogel's style is not the easiest to read. Although he tries to keep it simple, some advanced vocabulary creeps in and his sentence construction is more formal than casual. Vogel attempts to lighten the mood occasionally with puns and "dad joke" level humour, but even his jokes are pretty sophisticated and might go over some readers' heads. Finally, this book is 25 years old as of 2023, and I can't help but wonder whether advances in materials science, chemistry, and biology in the past quarter-century might require updates to the book.
If you like science and technology and biology, you may find this book interesting. If you don't, it's still interesting, but it'll be hard work.
June 16, 2024
Three stars. Doesn't seem like much does it? But then again, it's not about how good the book is. It's how much I liked it. And although I learnt some things from it, I didn't really like it much.
The reason I didn't like it... I mean, the main reason, is that it's not really written in a readily understandable way. What I mean is that the style of writing is such that you have to keep rereading sentences to derive the meaning from them. This makes reading the book a somewhat laborious and time-consuming procedure.
If you're into the subject, then you'll probably like this even though it has limitations in style. Personally, I learnt some things from the book that I didn't know before and that's always good. Aside from that, it would have served me better to read a different book on the subject.
So, read this only if you're really, really into the subject.
That's all.
The reason I didn't like it... I mean, the main reason, is that it's not really written in a readily understandable way. What I mean is that the style of writing is such that you have to keep rereading sentences to derive the meaning from them. This makes reading the book a somewhat laborious and time-consuming procedure.
If you're into the subject, then you'll probably like this even though it has limitations in style. Personally, I learnt some things from the book that I didn't know before and that's always good. Aside from that, it would have served me better to read a different book on the subject.
So, read this only if you're really, really into the subject.
That's all.
July 26, 2020
How man and nature make things differently.
Much harder to decide what to take away from this work to apply to design. The author ignores how human technologies scaffold in ways that constrain your future choices. The emphasis of the book is on mechanical systems but much of the mechanics is now also subject to information driven compatibility.
But the subject matter of nature vs human design should be an academic discipline in its own right.
Much harder to decide what to take away from this work to apply to design. The author ignores how human technologies scaffold in ways that constrain your future choices. The emphasis of the book is on mechanical systems but much of the mechanics is now also subject to information driven compatibility.
But the subject matter of nature vs human design should be an academic discipline in its own right.
March 8, 2018
This was a fascinating read. His writing style can be a tad thick at times, like I found I was re-reading sections because I wasn't sure if I got his point. But the content, examples, and parallels between the mechanical world and the natural world were amazing.
March 7, 2024
This was a very interesting account of biomechanics. I enjoyed seeing the comparisons between nature and human technologies and how they are similar or different. The "current" section obviously showed its age a bit (the book was published in the late 90s), but still very interesting.
May 17, 2019
I enjoyed this book immensely. It lags a little in the middle but offers tremendous insights in a highly readable form.
June 24, 2025
Moments of insight in sea of detail jack off
February 9, 2015
Entertaining whistle-stop tour of the worlds of biological and mechanical engineering. The jocular style is not quite up to the level of Bill Bryson but this is still an enjoyable and informative book.
July 29, 2009
This was loaned to me by CAT, to educate me in the ways of biomechanics and biologically inspired design.
November 13, 2014
Fantastic read, It started off a little slow but got good.
I especially liked the conclusions and comparisons in the final chapter.
I especially liked the conclusions and comparisons in the final chapter.
July 26, 2014
Fascinating comparisons of the biomechanics of nature and human technology. Disappointingly heavy in evolutionary theory.
April 20, 2016
A rewarding (if a bit dusty) look at why natural and human selection result in difference mechanical strategies. Puts a little awe back in 'Biology is awesome.' Enjoyed.
Read
December 23, 2018Terribly interesting and very thorough research done in a scientific manner and presented intelligibly
April 15, 2019
Cat’s Paws and Catapults is intended to highlight the differences between natural and man-made things and to look at whether man-made things could be improved using the methods that nature uses. The two systems are much more different than I had realized, but it turns out, for good reasons, in large part having to do with size. The book’s conclusion is that there is little improvement to be gained in mad-made things by imitating the way nature does things. However, I really enjoyed the thoughtful descriptions of how the two systems differ and why. For me, the book was most fun because I learned things I didn’t already know about how things in both systems work. Actually, I don’t think I will ever understand, or get tired of hearing, how trees pull water up to their top leaves as much as hundreds of feet up. I had never heard of fairing corners before, either. The book has a project you can do at home to illustrate the concept of fairing corners. There are other projects sprinkled throughout the book, some complicated ones that the author has done, and some simple ones that can be easily done at home. The writing is easy to understand, although the material in it takes concentration to absorb. The five properties of materials: strength, extensibility, stiffness, work of extension, and resilience, are well explained and their relevance is well explained, but, for me, a lot of work is needed to follow the ideas, and I don’t remember the definitions at all. Along with clear writing, the author has a light and friendly touch. I’m so glad he wrote this book. It is very interesting and could have easily been made dull and incomprehensible by anyone else.
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