In The Whale and the Supercomputer, scientists and natives wrestle with our changing climate in the land where it has hit first--and hardestA traditional Eskimo whale-hunting party races to shore near Barrow, Alaska--their comrades trapped on a floe drifting out to sea--as ice that should be solid this time of year gives way. Elsewhere, a team of scientists transverses the tundra, sleeping in tents, surviving on frozen chocolate, and measuring the snow every ten kilometers in a quest to understand the effects of albedo, the snow's reflective ability to cool the earth beneath it. Climate change isn't an abstraction in the far North. It is a reality that has already dramatically altered daily life, especially that of the native peoples who still live largely off the land and sea. Because nature shows her footprints so plainly here, the region is also a lure for scientists intent on comprehending the complexities of climate change. In this gripping account, Charles Wohlforth follows the two groups as they navigate a radically shifting landscape. The scientists attempt to decipher its smallest elements and to derive from them a set of abstract laws and models. The natives draw on uncannily accurate traditional knowledge, borne of long experience living close to the land. Even as they see the same things-a Native elder watches weather coming through too fast to predict; a climatologist notes an increased frequency of cyclonic systems-the two cultures struggle to reconcile their vastly different ways of comprehending the environment. With grace, clarity, and a sense of adventure, Wohlforth--a lifelong Alaskan--illuminates both ways of seeing a world in flux, and in the process, helps us to navigate a way forward as climate change reaches us all.
If I had to choose one word to describe this book, I would call it 'ambitious'.
With a glance at the cover and back blurb, one would gather that the purpose of this book is to explore the effects of climate change in a single location through a variety of lenses, as opposed to performing a global survey as Elizabeth Kolbert did two years after this book was published. It's a book designed to convince skeptics in 2004 that climate change is real. And perhaps most broadly, it is, but it's more ambitious than that.
If you read the blurb and title a little more closely, you'll note that two distinct perspectives on Arctic climate change are being presented: the Native perspective and the scientific perspective. The book, then, seems to be about comparing the Alaskan Natives' understanding of nature and climate change with that of scientists, discussing the truth-finding methods implemented by both groups, and investigating the relationship between the two up at the edge of the world. And this is also the 'point' of the book, but it, too, doesn't seem to be the only point.
If, like me, you read just the first fifty pages, you'll question whether the book is actually about climate change at all and put the book down for a year and a half. It will read like a documentary about Alaskan Native culture and its struggle to survive as the Western world's influence overtakes it. The book will seem to be a preservation effort, an attempt to connect American readers to the Natives that are largely ignored or misunderstood by non-Natives. And I do think that it's meant to do this -- to foster, if not connection, then awareness, some distant level of understanding, and more self-awareness about the typical American's own views of the natural world. It may even be argued that the true heart of the book lies in the love it shows for all of the Iñupiat folks who opened their lives up for Wolhforth, an affection for their culture, worldview, and everything else they shared with him. The book begins and ends with a sense of deep respect for that community. The generic doomsday concern for the future of the planet one always feels after reading a climate change piece is transformed into specific concern for the welfare of coastal Arctic Native communities. This deep dive is what sets the book apart from others in the genre and time period. Was that the point of it? Not completely, but largely, yes, I think so.
The main complaint I've seen lodged against The Whale and the Supercomputer is that it seems to ramble, and I agree. The storytelling -- historical as well as events from the author's investigation -- isn't at all linear. I briefly considered trying to piece together a timeline of Arctic exploration, policymaking, research, and journalistic investigation; I had already backtracked to the beginning of the book once to keep a list of every name and the significance of every person and program or institution that Wolhforth mentioned, though, and I didn't want to do it again. (For the record, my notes contain 21 acronyms and initialisms, including a few climate phenomena and common phrases, as well as around 146 individual people's names, most of which are referenced more than once in the text.) Unless you have an excellent memory for dates, events, and names, you'll likely put the book's index to more use than any index in any book you've encountered since you were last in school. There are 313 notes that, unfortunately, don't have in-line citations and are therefore hard to weave into the reading experience without flipping constantly into the Notes section. Particularly in the second half of the book, the author sprints between climate science and culture, philosophy and politics, religion and international whaling law -- if you expect an organized, targeted persuasive text about climate science and policy in the Arctic, you may lose your patience.
At the same time, it's clear that the author invested everything of himself into this book. It's thoroughly researched: 313 notes amounts to more than one footnote per page, the vast majority of which are source citations and when you consider that much of the book comes from the author's unpublished, un-cite-able first-hand experiences, the citation density only increases; the Acknowledgments section mentions that he interviewed over two hundred people during this two-year project; the scientific discussions and descriptions across many disciplines within climate science are abundant, accessible, and (to my knowledge) accurate. The rapid switching from topic to topic in places reads less like distraction or self-indulgence and more like deep reflection, as the author tries to make sense of his experiences and findings for himself as well as his readers, and present the most holistic, human view possible of Western science, scientists both Western and Iñupiat, and the values of everyday people who must make the individual choice to combat climate change.
I think the book is the way it is because Wohlforth needed to think things through, meanwhile offering us the chance to think through with him. As a trained scientist and lover of the non-biological world, I greatly enjoyed his more technical passages about ice, climate, chaotic mechanics, the global carbon cycle, et cetera. I also appreciated the candid look at the dysfunctions of modern science -- being a scientist is, very often, barely about connecting with the universe and almost all about satisfying someone else. And as a person, I appreciated that the author took the time to explore questions that are relevant but easy to gloss over: Does it make sense to (arbitrarily) place aesthetic value on certain animal life while exploiting other animal life, and impose those values on others? How does a scientist, whose career is predicated on the belief that the universe is logical and knowable, reconcile their work with their faith in an unknowable being? Is it valuable to continue pushing to develop more sophisticated global climate models and generate more data when important conclusions about the future of the climate have already been drawn? How much can we really learn and predict about the universe? How has communication between scientists and disciplines changed since 2002, when the author was observing a decrease in person-to-person discussions and an unmanageable increase in publication volume? By idealizing 'minimalist camping' and forging an association between the outdoors and self-imposed suffering, are Americans depriving themselves of the opportunity to truly live their lives in nature, or is it part of necessary practice to keep American wilderness pristine (and are American preservation spaces pristine)? When we decide which parts of the globe we value and which we don't, what informs that decision? A more heavily-edited book probably wouldn't have afforded space to explore these ideas, and I think this book is better for them.
Overall: There were parts that I enjoyed, parts that I pulled myself through, and just a few parts the inclusion of which I really questioned. For me, things pick up in chapter 5, which is a little less than halfway through. The Whale and the Supercomputer has both depth and breadth, best for the interdisciplinary-minded reader with patience for a disjointed timeline and a slurry of names. I don't think I'll encounter anything quite like this book again, and although I might not read it in its entirety again, I applaud the effort Wohlforth has put into his investigation, and I appreciate his humility and thoughtfulness.
I was sure I would love this book because of the subject matter. The author reports on the efforts of numerous scientists who are studying climate change in the field where it is happening most dramatically -- the arctic, especially Alaska. He also reports on how climate change is adversely affecting the native people who live there and who rely on a relatively stable climate or at least somewhat predictable weather cycles and patterns in order to sustain their centuries-old way of life. These topics are of great interest to me even though I understand that they may not be to many people. So I was unpleasantly surprised at how un-absorbing this book was. It definitely had moments that were great, but overall it was just too tedious.
A bit long in the baleen (yes I went there) but an overall very interesting read. Perhaps science and archaeology geeks would appreciate what I felt was just a bit too much information, but ultimately I did appreciate the point he finally makes--actually he never blatantly states his conclusion, but you should be able to figure it out. Lots of interesting science and climate change related stuffs.
Arguably the most readable book about climate science to date. Wohlforth takes an up-close-and-personal look not only at the brute facts of climate change but at the personalities and social dynamics of the scientists and Native communities who are observing and recording the phenomena. His description of life in the Barrow community is so poignant I quoted it in Gods of the Flesh, during my chapters on Native cultures.
The Spirit lost me, but the rest had me good. Very demoralizing book, as 20 years have gone by since it was published, but we’re in the same place socially and scientifically with almost nothing to show for our investments in preventing climate change.
April is my favorite part of the book - a woman so encapsulating of the terrors brought about by freedom and fossil fuels. She wants to live in Alaska, in a place of community and open space, but she can’t leave behind the life she built - what a sadness!
Experiencing the worst impacts of climate change and the billions of dollars spent on science in the past two decades have both not moved the needle very much from where we were in this book. I certainly don’t feel like my work means anything at all, and I don’t feel like we’re going to avoid the worst impacts of climate change.
In a society where “climate change” is a burning hot button topic surrounded by an overwhelming jumble of debates, scientific information, opinions, and more, Charles Wohlforth provides a refreshing and compelling case for climate change, its effects, and its relevance to every human being on the planet. Wohlforth uses the power of narrative storytelling to show, not just tell, the impacts of climate change through the lives of the Inupiat whale hunters and arctic scientists who experience firsthand the effects of climate change. From Oliver Leavitt, a seasoned whale hunter, to April, a southern schoolteacher turned arctic scientist, Wohlforth introduces an array of real characters and the very real effects of climate change on their lives. Wohlforth explains scientific discoveries in an interesting and clear way, allowing the reader to develop an understanding for the science behind Arctic climate change without feeling overwhelmed by technical terms and ideas. Using the technical research and knowledge of the scientists in contrast to the observations and history of the Inupiat whalers, Wohlforth shows that while the two groups of people vastly differ in their attainment of knowledge and outlooks on life, they have come to the same conclusion: climate change is an undeniable reality. Wohlforth presents his argument for climate change without pushing his agenda onto the reader by allowing the stories to speak for themselves and painting the reality of climate change through a compelling, informative, and enjoyable read.
I had to take a long break from reading this; I got depressed realizing it was published in 2004 and we have 12 more years of climate destruction on our hands.
It's a dense read, yes, but important & I love that it covers so many different aspects of what is such a complicated issue. (Not complicated in "does climate change exist" because obviously it does, but complicated in all the systems involved from niche biology to human culture.)
I also love that it's autoethnographic, because that's a personal favorite style of mine. You can never remove your own humanity & influence on anything so why pretend otherwise?
I just hope we haven't reached the point of no return.
This book is about a tribe in Barrow, AK (Northernmost point in AK) who partake in subsistence hunting of marine mammals, specifically bowhead whales, to feed their village. It's interesting to read about their culture, how they depend on the food they get from these whales and how climate change is starting to take it's toll on the whales, the people, and the safety of the hunt.
this book ranged from brilliant to rambly and tangential, and at times it seemed like wohlforth was trying to tell the complete story of everything, which, i guess, he kind of was--that was the point. i appreciated his telling of the story of arctic climate science, not just the results, and he effectively communicated just how complicated this process is, and at times, how mindnumbingly dull.
Scattered and unfocused, bouncing between colloquial stories, fact and research interspersed with anecdote and filler. Wasn't impressed, enjoyed some of the stories, but it was not as good as I hoped it would be. Could have used a great editor or college professor to focus this project a little more.
Very informative and interesting read on how global warming is effecting the Arctic region and people. The author is a wonderful journalist who got to know his subjects well and wrote intriguing histories about the people, which helped break up the intense science sections. I wish the middle of the book was shorter, not nearly as good as the beginning.
I like this book, and am going to have to check it out again when it's hot outside. It's interesting, informative, and full of really cold situations! I just can't stick with it in February, but suspect I'll love it in August. :)
I read this when it first came out, and was really impressed with it. Wohlforth's writing reminds me a lot of Peter Matthiessen's, and it's a valuable read insofar as it takes you to a place where severe climate change isn't a possibility, a threat or an abstraction, but a daily reality.
Maintained my interest. Climate in the Arctic through scientific and personal observation. I would love to read Whohlforth's updates on today's Arctic environment. Dated, but enjoyed the historical context.