A fascinating topic poorly served by the conventions of popular science writing.
Ed Yong's book is about microbes--bacteria, mostly, but also viruses and few other extremely small creatures--and how they live with other organisms--humans for the most part, with plenty of other animals, too, though no plants.
It has Darwinian ambitions, announced in its subtitle: "A Grander View of Life" evokes Darwin's famous phrase closing the first edition of "On the Origin of Species": "There is grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers, having been originally breathed into a few forms or into one; and that, whilst this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being, evolved."
And it is there in the basic organizing principle of the book. Darwin followed the recommendation of the philosopher of science William Whewell that a good scientific theory account for a range of facts--he called this the "consilience of induction." Yong is out to conciliate some inducting, too--so to speak--setting out a view of the interactions between animals and microbes that is extensive.
For the past one hundred and fifty or so years, microbes have been mostly seen in the light of germ theory: that is, they have been either classed ad pathological or of little interest. In the last four decades (or so), a new view has taken shape: that microbes are neither good nor bad. But they are ubiquitous. And they are *integral* to multicellular life. Some are pathological. Some perform vital functions. They form an entire ecosystem, one upon which life depends, but one that has been mostly ignored, mostly invisible.
As I say, this is a great story, with very important repercussions. The details are fascinating, and Yong is great at explaining the complex interplay between microbes and multicellular organisms in easy to understand ways--that usually do not feel condescending. (I could've used a little less forced humor: de gustibus and all that, though.) Just dipping into the various chapters and reading the sections involves one in some remarkable bits of biology. The book, on the level of the sections, is genuinely fun.
There are, of course, important sequelae to this line of thought. One set concerns how we are to live in the world when we know its expanded dimension. Food choices, medicine choices, standard questions about environmental protection--all become more complicated when we have to take microbiology into account. This "grander view" of life also calls into question traditional boundaries--between the self and the environment, between humans and other organisms. If bacteria help to build your immune system, what does that mean for ideas about the integrity of the body? If moods and behaviors are effected by gut flora, what does that mean about human will and determinism?
Darwin's book was arranged unusually--though brilliantly, in its way. (Waiting twenty years to publish gives certain advantages!) He started with artificial selection, as something most people would understand. Then, in the next two chapters, showed how the elements of artificial selection were inherent in nature, too: one chapter explored natural variety, the other natural competition. Chapter four then tied these various strands together, showing how natural selection worked in nature as an analogue of artificial selection. The remainder of the book--to simplify matters--gathers together a host of facts that can all be explained by natural selection, from the geological record to what we would now call genetics.
Yong's book does not work quite so well on the level of chapters. It's fine, but not quite as elegant. There are basically three introductory chapters: one is a prologue, which situates Yong at a zoo watching a scientist investigate the microbial flora on the body of a pangolin. He then moves to another introductory chapter which sets out some guidelines, though these are not consistently used through the book to justify their presence here. He notes that humans are, in effect, islands, homes to vast swarms of bacteria, which can be characterized as neither good nor bad, but as essential to life as we know it. He also introduces the idea that geological time is very long--he's definitely influenced by Darwin and evolutionary biologists, and wants to root the book in its tropes, though they are not really necessary.
The second body chapter then introduces us to the idea that various people have looked at microbes over the centuries, to differing ends. He starts with Leeuwenhoek, who was probably the first human to see microbes. But his research into bacteria and similar creatures was never really transformative. He then jumps to the nineteenth century when Pasteur and Koch and the rest put germ theory in place. This was the beginning of what remains the dominant way of looking at microbes.
The rest of the chapter then introduces us to the more recent view, which he dates back to the late 1960s with the discovery of a whole new branch of life, the archaebacteria, and then expands to the surveys of microbial life that took off after that. There's a sense that microbiology of the 197os was a lot like American vertebrate biology of the 1900s-1920s, with intensive surveys to characterize most of the major groups and define their geological distribution.
This is also the section when Yong could have made a stake for a particular kind of order to the rest of the book, but opted against it. Given that there is a generational element to the story, Yong could have characterized the various schools of microbiology that took shape during this time and given an overview of the people who were involved. Something like what William Leach did with "The Butterfly People." If nothing else, it would have helped to make sense of the on-coming chapters, with its huge cast of characters, some recurring, some connected, but the network never quite clear.
Instead, what he wants to do is offer a history of ideas--which could work. That's what Darwin did, after all, showing the various ideas that fall under the overarching umbrella, and how they connect. And it is possible to see this, though it is never quite laid out clearly. Part of that is because, for all the introductory matter, the book is never introduced in any but the most general terms. Part of the reason is because the chapter titles are jokey, and so not quite explanatory.
Here, though, is a précis of the argument. (It's worth noting that Darwin had expanded chapter explanations in his table of contents, effectively working as a rudimentary index.)
Chapter 3. Microbes help build body. Vital functions have been outsourced because microbes are so ubiquitous.
Chapter 4. Reintroduces the idea that microbes are neither inherently good nor bad, and even pathological effects can result from certain conditions--in the same way that landscapes can support different kinds of living communities, depending upon their conditions.
Chapter 5. Sickness, in people, other organisms, and entire ecosystems, can result from disruptions in the microbial flora.
Chapter 6. Animals and their microbes co-evolved.
Chapter 7. Because microbes can do so many functions, their coming together with certain organisms allows those organisms to expand into new niches relatively easily.
Chapter 8. Genes can be transferred horizontally, from organism to organism.
Chapters 9 and 10. The future, and the possibility of microbial engineering.
The real reason, though, that it is so difficult to parse out the overall narrative arc is that Yong is in love with the smaller-scale stories. He has been a blogger and writer of magazine articles for many years now, and this experience shows here--to the detriment of the book, I think. With the exception of a few, the chapters do not really lay out a cohesive arguments, but are divided by stories. Again and again, just as Yong is building up to a point, he will take a break and start a new story--with new characters and new creatures.
In short, the ideas that are supposed to be driving the story are pushed aside for the story of people. And in the end, the narrative falls between two stools, neither fully the laying out of an idea, nor a group biography, but something in between, and fractured.
Apart from making it hard to develop much momentum and to see the forest for the trees, this fragmenting of the book ends up bringing up a whole host of questions that Yong can never really address. Does it matter that one researcher is far from home when she meets with him? Why is another's son hitting Yong in the rear end? Does it matter when World War II was? Talk about conditions leading to (or foreclosing) disease ties into alternative notions of medicine--how does this change in view of microbes relate? Why do Westerners live in an environment that promotes inflammation? Aren't there neo-colonialist concerns with researchers sampling poop from malnourished children? What are the implications of engineering the microbial flora--haven't we learned from big ecological engineering projects?
Popular science writing likes to emphasize the humans involved in the science, the work they do, the ideas they have, their personalities and quirks. I get it. But I think the tendency makes it harder to see what Yong is trying to say here. The book is not equipped to answer these questions, and the stories tend to obscure Yong's Darwinian ambitions.
Still, he makes some valuable caveats and interventions. As anyone who only half pays attention to debates over nutrition will know, microbes are a big deal--probiotics make lots of money, people are all into feeding the right bugs, and one part of the whole fascination over gluten-free diets is concerns over leaky guts and microbes slipping into the bloodstream. Yong shows how limited the evidence for this talk is, though--particularly probiotics--and as soon as someone starts telling you the exact composition of microbe you need, you should be very wary.
And, really, the stories are still fascinating. This last part is what most reviewers I've noticed have focused on, and they are not wrong. Yong got gold of a great subject, and hunted down a huge number of really interesting stories that fit the project. The amount of work that went into the book must have been immense.
And, really, when you think of all those accomplishments, it seems churlish to complain that Yong wasn't Darwin also.