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The Best American Science And Nature Writing 2021: An Anthology Bringing Lucidity to Science and Medical History
New York Times best-selling author and renowned science journalist Ed Yong compiles the best science and nature writing published in 2020.
“The stories I have chosen reflect where I feel the field of science and nature writing has landed, and where it could go,” Ed Yong writes in his introduction. “They are often full of tragedy, sometimes laced with wonder, but always deeply aware that science does not exist in a social vacuum. They are beautiful, whether in their clarity of ideas, the elegance of their prose, or often both.” The essays in this year’s Best American Science and Nature Writing brought clarity to the complexity and bewilderment of 2020 and delivered us necessary information during a global pandemic. From an in-depth look at the moment of the virus’s outbreak, to a harrowing personal account of lingering Covid symptoms, to a thoughtful analysis on how the pandemic will impact the environment, these essays, as Yong says, “synthesize, evaluate, dig, unveil, and challenge,” imbuing a pivotal moment in history with lucidity and elegance.
“The stories I have chosen reflect where I feel the field of science and nature writing has landed, and where it could go,” Ed Yong writes in his introduction. “They are often full of tragedy, sometimes laced with wonder, but always deeply aware that science does not exist in a social vacuum. They are beautiful, whether in their clarity of ideas, the elegance of their prose, or often both.” The essays in this year’s Best American Science and Nature Writing brought clarity to the complexity and bewilderment of 2020 and delivered us necessary information during a global pandemic. From an in-depth look at the moment of the virus’s outbreak, to a harrowing personal account of lingering Covid symptoms, to a thoughtful analysis on how the pandemic will impact the environment, these essays, as Yong says, “synthesize, evaluate, dig, unveil, and challenge,” imbuing a pivotal moment in history with lucidity and elegance.
416 pages, Paperback
Published October 12, 2021
269 people are currently reading
1113 people want to read
About the author
Ed Yong
10 books1,969 followersEd Yong is a science journalist who reports for The Atlantic, and is based in Washington DC.
His work appears several times a week on The Atlantic's website, and has also featured in National Geographic, the New Yorker, Wired, Nature, New Scientist, Scientific American, and many more. He has won a variety of awards, including the Michael E. DeBakey Journalism Award for biomedical reporting in 2016, the Byron H. Waksman Award for Excellence in the Public Communication of Life Sciences in 2016, and the National Academies Keck Science Communication Award in 2010 for his old blog Not Exactly Rocket Science. He regularly does talks and radio interviews; his TED talk on mind-controlling parasites has been watched by over 1.5 million people.
I Contain Multitudes, his first book, looks at the amazing partnerships between animals and microbes. Published in 2016, it became a New York Times bestseller, and was listed in best-of-2016 lists by the NYT, NPR, the Economist, the Guardian, and several others. Bill Gates called it "science journalism at its finest", and Jeopardy! turned it into a clue.
Ed cares deeply about accurate and nuanced reporting, clear and vivid storytelling, and social equality. He writes about everything that is or was once alive, from the quirky world of animal behaviour to the equally quirky lives of scientists, from the microbes that secretly rule the world to the species that are blinking out of it, from the people who are working to make science more reliable to those who are using it to craft policies. His stories span 3.7 billion years, from the origin of life itself to this month's developments in Congress. He makes terrible puns and regrets none of them. He has a Chatham Island black robin named after him.
His work appears several times a week on The Atlantic's website, and has also featured in National Geographic, the New Yorker, Wired, Nature, New Scientist, Scientific American, and many more. He has won a variety of awards, including the Michael E. DeBakey Journalism Award for biomedical reporting in 2016, the Byron H. Waksman Award for Excellence in the Public Communication of Life Sciences in 2016, and the National Academies Keck Science Communication Award in 2010 for his old blog Not Exactly Rocket Science. He regularly does talks and radio interviews; his TED talk on mind-controlling parasites has been watched by over 1.5 million people.
I Contain Multitudes, his first book, looks at the amazing partnerships between animals and microbes. Published in 2016, it became a New York Times bestseller, and was listed in best-of-2016 lists by the NYT, NPR, the Economist, the Guardian, and several others. Bill Gates called it "science journalism at its finest", and Jeopardy! turned it into a clue.
Ed cares deeply about accurate and nuanced reporting, clear and vivid storytelling, and social equality. He writes about everything that is or was once alive, from the quirky world of animal behaviour to the equally quirky lives of scientists, from the microbes that secretly rule the world to the species that are blinking out of it, from the people who are working to make science more reliable to those who are using it to craft policies. His stories span 3.7 billion years, from the origin of life itself to this month's developments in Congress. He makes terrible puns and regrets none of them. He has a Chatham Island black robin named after him.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 68 reviews
December 31, 2021
* 4.5 *
Excellent- but depressing.
Coronavirus, climate change, the decline of Monarch butterflies and a bucketload of DTT dumped in the ocean … :(
Excellent- but depressing.
Coronavirus, climate change, the decline of Monarch butterflies and a bucketload of DTT dumped in the ocean … :(
April 26, 2022
Really more 3.5.
Like all anthologies, this is a mixed bag. The highs -- I'm looking at you, Brooke Jarvis and Susan Orlean and Latria Graham and Sarah Zhang -- are very, very high. Graham's essay, about being a Black woman in the outdoors, perhaps sticks with me the most.
Of course there's a lot of Covid. There has to be, for a science-focused anthology that's a snapshot of 2020. But I wish there were better signaling on the pieces themselves about publication date. There's a Wired piece early on -- "They Say Coronavirus Isn't Airborne. . . " -- that was published in March 2020 that feels so dated here in 2022. I wish there were an editor's note or something that addresses how out-of-the-box this piece was at the time. (Yong hits at this in the foreword a bit, and it's in the endnotes, but why not move that closer to the piece?) Maybe we're still too close to it, and someone who comes at this in 2025 or 2030 will feel differently.
All in all, a strong collection. Though maybe avoid if you're tapped out on the coronavirus.
Like all anthologies, this is a mixed bag. The highs -- I'm looking at you, Brooke Jarvis and Susan Orlean and Latria Graham and Sarah Zhang -- are very, very high. Graham's essay, about being a Black woman in the outdoors, perhaps sticks with me the most.
Of course there's a lot of Covid. There has to be, for a science-focused anthology that's a snapshot of 2020. But I wish there were better signaling on the pieces themselves about publication date. There's a Wired piece early on -- "They Say Coronavirus Isn't Airborne. . . " -- that was published in March 2020 that feels so dated here in 2022. I wish there were an editor's note or something that addresses how out-of-the-box this piece was at the time. (Yong hits at this in the foreword a bit, and it's in the endnotes, but why not move that closer to the piece?) Maybe we're still too close to it, and someone who comes at this in 2025 or 2030 will feel differently.
All in all, a strong collection. Though maybe avoid if you're tapped out on the coronavirus.
March 8, 2022
This was a good one. I was simultaneously trying to read Best American Essays 2021 and Best American Short Stories 2021, neither of which impressed me. This one is smart, well-researched, well-written, and not particularly optimistic. I suggest reading the next to last one last. It concerns elder and hospice care of the dying in modern China. Decades ago when I might still have qualified as "young," I took The Sociology of Aging at the local community college where I would later teach. We are a death-denying society, I was taught, and most all Americans when asked how they want to die will say: at home and surrounded by loved ones. Even in the early '80s, this was rarely what happened.
It begins with stories of the pandemic I had mostly already read (but very strong essays), DDT off the coast of Los Angeles, destructive earthworms, Monarch butterflies, floods, spaceship-wrecked communities, and global warming. Fascinating stuff.
It begins with stories of the pandemic I had mostly already read (but very strong essays), DDT off the coast of Los Angeles, destructive earthworms, Monarch butterflies, floods, spaceship-wrecked communities, and global warming. Fascinating stuff.
March 11, 2022
“Science is not a procession of facts and breakthroughs but an erratic stumble toward gradually diminished uncertainty; peer-reviewed publications are not gospel…and scientific endeavor is plagued by all-too-human failings like hubris.” - Ed Yong, excerpt from the Introduction of The Best American Science and Nature Writing 2021.
I’ve had this book sitting on my bedside table for the better part of 4 months. It’s one of those books that is a brilliant read, but is also VERY heavy, which meant I could only read one article (“chapter”) at a time.
The premise of the book is Ed Yong, a science writer himself, compiled what he thinks are some of the best science articles written for newspapers in 2021. The articles are broken into three themes. And surprise, surprise, COVID gets its own theme all to itself. Don’t worry though, the book includes much more than just COVID stories! But they are all quite serious.
Wow do these pieces really make you think about your place in society and the moral and ethical dilemmas present in science. Ed Yong did a phenomenal job in how he portrayed the science (p.s. read the introduction, I keep coming back and rereading it because it is one of the best intros I’ve ever read).
The take-home message of this book: Science is political, science is not simply facts laid out before you, science has limitations.
I’ve had this book sitting on my bedside table for the better part of 4 months. It’s one of those books that is a brilliant read, but is also VERY heavy, which meant I could only read one article (“chapter”) at a time.
The premise of the book is Ed Yong, a science writer himself, compiled what he thinks are some of the best science articles written for newspapers in 2021. The articles are broken into three themes. And surprise, surprise, COVID gets its own theme all to itself. Don’t worry though, the book includes much more than just COVID stories! But they are all quite serious.
Wow do these pieces really make you think about your place in society and the moral and ethical dilemmas present in science. Ed Yong did a phenomenal job in how he portrayed the science (p.s. read the introduction, I keep coming back and rereading it because it is one of the best intros I’ve ever read).
The take-home message of this book: Science is political, science is not simply facts laid out before you, science has limitations.
November 10, 2021
What a strange year to try to summarize in a collection. There are some real jewels in here - Bathsheba Demuth, Sarah Zhang, Brooke Jarvis and Sabrina Imbler's stick out to me - and Ed Yong's intro is one of the best I've read for this kind of book. Obviously a lot of it is and had to be about the pandemic, and the format choice of loading the pure pandemic pieces into the early part of the book probably makes good sense - it just didn't work for me. Also, because of how quickly things move, there are pieces in that section that are already dated less than a year later. That's not the fault of the writers, but a few felt like odd choices for a lasting record of the year. 100% worth reading.
October 2, 2021
I have only read the introduction excerpt Yong published in the Atlantic, but that piece and Yong's reputation is enough for me to credibly recommend this book. Yong's defining of COVID as an "omnicrisis" was mentally groundbreaking for me (a word he seems to have invented. It exists on the internet, but the highest result is an urban dictionary definition from 2013 with a single upvote). This is, of course, something we all felt and knew from 2020 on, but Yong's encapsulation of this into a single word sort of serves as a microcosm of what the whole introduction was doing for other things.
What I mean is: his new take on science writing in this piece is groundbreaking. I truly believe it will become a foundational piece for the future of science writing, and has made the first step in explaining how science writing and journalism has developed into something far more all-encompassing and almost literary since 2020.
He still (rightfully) acknowledges that science writing can and should at times remain distant from the complexity of human ways, and I believe this tethering of the genre to empiricism is what will make science writing a unique and artistically demanding form of writing. Yong, you've really done it this time. I can't wait to read. I'm so excited about this that I made this account just to explain how great this introduction is.
What I mean is: his new take on science writing in this piece is groundbreaking. I truly believe it will become a foundational piece for the future of science writing, and has made the first step in explaining how science writing and journalism has developed into something far more all-encompassing and almost literary since 2020.
He still (rightfully) acknowledges that science writing can and should at times remain distant from the complexity of human ways, and I believe this tethering of the genre to empiricism is what will make science writing a unique and artistically demanding form of writing. Yong, you've really done it this time. I can't wait to read. I'm so excited about this that I made this account just to explain how great this introduction is.
Read
November 1, 2021I've read BASNW for years and always find the collection worthwhile, even if not every entry interests me. This year was different in character than its predecessors, due to the ongoing evolution of what we know about COVID-19. While I understand that it's out of character for the series, I felt like several entries would have benefited from a short note at the beginning of the chapter, giving an update to the article's claims and/or explaining why it merited inclusion even if its claims haven't entirely held up. As it is, the volume runs the risk of preserving in amber some questions about the pandemic that are either 1) still open, or 2) were resolved since the article first was published (What's the best way to measure transmission? What constitutes an aerosol? Where did the virus come from?), and as such, it might actually mislead people who pick up BASNW 2021 thinking that inclusion in it means that all the info in whatever article has stood the test of time and is still fundamentally "true" in all respects.
December 9, 2021
I read this collection every year, and this one was especially prescient given 2020 was the year of the pandemic that we’re still all living through. This book very much relives the early days of the pandemic — what felt like years ago but was in reality only 18 months — through its section called “contagion.”
“Contagion” featured stories that brought us back to the airborne virus debate, and the problems that stem from labeling a virus one way contradicts how it is actually spread, one woman’s experience with long COVID, and the tragedy that unfolded in one nursing home in Washington state early on in the pandemic.
But the section had a couple standouts. “The Difference between Feeling Safe and Being Safe” dove into our social and political response to the pandemic, and how tough it is to confront others, especially friends, about pandemic safety: “There are many ways in which people are expected not to rock the boat in American social culture.” “I’m an ER Doctor in New York. None of Us Will Ever Be the Same” was a day-by-day first-person account of the hospital wings that dealt with COVID, and the human struggle of healthcare workers seeing so much death in he face of uncertainty and shortages. And “It’s not too late to save black lives,” where a broken healthcare system exposed the disparities between white and Black people, with lacks of testing, racism, and inefficient structures defined the failure of America’s response to the pandemic for many.
In “Connections” we turn to the links between science and humanity at large, headlines by a fantastic essay, “Happiness Won’t Save You,” which examined a rising star, Philip Brickman, as he explored the nature of happiness, while unable to find it in his own life as family and work crumbled before him. The narrative quickly turns from happiness studies to suicide studies, and what causes people to jump.
Finally, “Consequences” largely focused on climate change, including stories about invasive earthworms, a quickly going extinct catfish, and a great LA times story about toxic leaks of DDT that also gives a history of the now infamous chemical and its role in shaping American society and history of pollution. “What the coronavirus means for climate change” links the two issues of the pandemic and climate change, the interconnectedness and similar roots, with the larger conclusion of if we can change our structures and mindset to protect Earth.
“Long May They Reign” gives us an in-depth view of the successes and failures of monarch butterfly populations amid a warming world, and the complicated strategies that people employ to try to save them — including interfering with nature to protect a species that has a very small chance of surviving in the wild. And “SpaceX Is Taking over a Tiny Texas Neighborhood” is a great story on the new Cape Canaveral, which can be in people’s backyard, both lifting up a community, giving them hope and interests, but also pushing them out.
Science writing is not making accessible that which is in the ivory tower of academia, but rather an expansive endeavor that seeks to connect culture, social norms, and who gets to be a scientist: “good science writing… illuminates those connections between us and the rest of the world,” writes Ed Yong in the introduction. "And I believe it can lead us toward the kind of radical introspection that we so sorely need.”
“Contagion” featured stories that brought us back to the airborne virus debate, and the problems that stem from labeling a virus one way contradicts how it is actually spread, one woman’s experience with long COVID, and the tragedy that unfolded in one nursing home in Washington state early on in the pandemic.
But the section had a couple standouts. “The Difference between Feeling Safe and Being Safe” dove into our social and political response to the pandemic, and how tough it is to confront others, especially friends, about pandemic safety: “There are many ways in which people are expected not to rock the boat in American social culture.” “I’m an ER Doctor in New York. None of Us Will Ever Be the Same” was a day-by-day first-person account of the hospital wings that dealt with COVID, and the human struggle of healthcare workers seeing so much death in he face of uncertainty and shortages. And “It’s not too late to save black lives,” where a broken healthcare system exposed the disparities between white and Black people, with lacks of testing, racism, and inefficient structures defined the failure of America’s response to the pandemic for many.
In “Connections” we turn to the links between science and humanity at large, headlines by a fantastic essay, “Happiness Won’t Save You,” which examined a rising star, Philip Brickman, as he explored the nature of happiness, while unable to find it in his own life as family and work crumbled before him. The narrative quickly turns from happiness studies to suicide studies, and what causes people to jump.
Finally, “Consequences” largely focused on climate change, including stories about invasive earthworms, a quickly going extinct catfish, and a great LA times story about toxic leaks of DDT that also gives a history of the now infamous chemical and its role in shaping American society and history of pollution. “What the coronavirus means for climate change” links the two issues of the pandemic and climate change, the interconnectedness and similar roots, with the larger conclusion of if we can change our structures and mindset to protect Earth.
“Long May They Reign” gives us an in-depth view of the successes and failures of monarch butterfly populations amid a warming world, and the complicated strategies that people employ to try to save them — including interfering with nature to protect a species that has a very small chance of surviving in the wild. And “SpaceX Is Taking over a Tiny Texas Neighborhood” is a great story on the new Cape Canaveral, which can be in people’s backyard, both lifting up a community, giving them hope and interests, but also pushing them out.
Science writing is not making accessible that which is in the ivory tower of academia, but rather an expansive endeavor that seeks to connect culture, social norms, and who gets to be a scientist: “good science writing… illuminates those connections between us and the rest of the world,” writes Ed Yong in the introduction. "And I believe it can lead us toward the kind of radical introspection that we so sorely need.”
January 31, 2022
As you can imagine, an anthology of science and nature writing, the majority of which was published in 2020, is to a large degree, about covid-19. I had a bit of trepidation after reading Jaime Green's Forward and Ed Yong's Introduction that this would not be something I would want to read right now.
I was wrong.
Much of what I took in about the virus in 2020, as we all went through it, was not very in-depth and, while I tried to pay attention to the science and the recommendations of public health officials, going beyond the headlines and reading articles and pieces such as are included here just never happened.
Here are some in this volume that are still being mulled over in my head:
Helen Ouyang's, I'm an ER Doctor in New York. None of Us Will Ever Be the Same.
- 3 articles in and this was the most impactful story to me, even now. The title says it all.
Katie Englehart's, What Happened in Room 10?
- why nursing homes were hit so hard by the virus and why they were so unprepared to deal with it
Brooke Jarvis', The Scramble to Pluck 24 Billion Cherries in Eight Weeks
- migrant workers, already under-served by their employers and the system and having to deal with covid
Latria Graham's, Out There, Nobody Can Hear You Scream
- being black and a naturalist and what it means to want to be outdoors in America right now
Jiayang Fan's, The Friendship and Love Hospital
- how do you make the idea of palliative or hospice care acceptable to a culture that deems conversations about death as taboo?
and finally,
Sarah Zhang's The Last Children of Down Syndrome
- the impact of prenatal Down Syndrome screening on pregnant women in Denmark
Also, significant portion of the pieces in this book are about climate change and the continuing and unceasing environmental impact of humanity on our planet. It was surprising how much covid and climate change impacted each other.
Every one of these stories was interesting and enlightening and this year's anthology is one of the best I have read.
I was wrong.
Much of what I took in about the virus in 2020, as we all went through it, was not very in-depth and, while I tried to pay attention to the science and the recommendations of public health officials, going beyond the headlines and reading articles and pieces such as are included here just never happened.
Here are some in this volume that are still being mulled over in my head:
Helen Ouyang's, I'm an ER Doctor in New York. None of Us Will Ever Be the Same.
- 3 articles in and this was the most impactful story to me, even now. The title says it all.
Katie Englehart's, What Happened in Room 10?
- why nursing homes were hit so hard by the virus and why they were so unprepared to deal with it
Brooke Jarvis', The Scramble to Pluck 24 Billion Cherries in Eight Weeks
- migrant workers, already under-served by their employers and the system and having to deal with covid
Latria Graham's, Out There, Nobody Can Hear You Scream
- being black and a naturalist and what it means to want to be outdoors in America right now
Jiayang Fan's, The Friendship and Love Hospital
- how do you make the idea of palliative or hospice care acceptable to a culture that deems conversations about death as taboo?
and finally,
Sarah Zhang's The Last Children of Down Syndrome
- the impact of prenatal Down Syndrome screening on pregnant women in Denmark
Also, significant portion of the pieces in this book are about climate change and the continuing and unceasing environmental impact of humanity on our planet. It was surprising how much covid and climate change impacted each other.
Every one of these stories was interesting and enlightening and this year's anthology is one of the best I have read.
December 2, 2021
This is a collection of really well written articles about the last year. I didn’t finish it though, as I honestly just fatigued of reading about COVID and climate change. Not after these past two weeks. Give me salacious mysteries and books about murder; they’re more uplifting.
April 13, 2023
For someone interested in this style of writing (science/ medical writing) this would be a great choice, as a high school student reading this for an assignment, not so exciting. I also only read a select few articles out of this book.
October 19, 2022
Read in late 2022, published in 2021, containing writings from 2020, so obviously covid is very present. Best article: “I’m an ER doctor in New York, none of us will ever be the same.”
January 27, 2025
A good collection of a wide variety of scientific articles.
April 14, 2023
I wasn't a fan of the book
June 12, 2023
In the light of the pandemic, old debates about whether science (and science writing) is political—many of which have been captured in the introductions of this anthology series—now seem small and antiquated. Science is undoubtedly political whether scientists want it to be or not, because it is an inextricably human enterprise. It belongs to society. It is interleaved with society. It is of society.
- Ed Yong, Editor of The Best Science and Nature Writing 2021
I originally tried reading this is April of 2022 and just...could not. The entire first section is about the nitty gritty of the pandemic and with other real life stuff going on at the time I couldn't concentrate on reading those articles, and found even a few paragraphs emotionally exhausting when I tried. So, now it's June of 2023 and - after finally getting this book back in as library hold - I finished it. (Barely. I still wasn't in a great place for some of the content, such as the chapter the focused on palliative care for cancer patients, but it's finished and before tomorrow's due date.)
The Best American series focuses on trying to curate the best stories/articles published in a given year; this one, obviously, focuses on articles that have something to do with science and/or nature that were published in 2020. As such, it's hardly unexpected that this book is broken into three categories: Contagion, Connections, and Consequences. The first focuses primarily on the pandemic: how race and access to healthcare affect patient outcomes; chronicling the state of the elder care industry and how that contributed to so many deaths in nursing homes; modern agribusiness, treatment of farmworkers, and the general unsustainability of US agriculture practices without immigrants; and other, similar topics. The second focuses on reexamining assumptions in science and how science as a field collectively treats people and other beings: the biography of a misremembered titan; musings on how animals are characterized and thought of; discussion of new research - or new perspectives on older research - regarding how people think, feel, and behave, as well as where we come from; and articles that strike a similar chord. The third and last section focuses primarily on drawing attention to things that are already problems and desperately need fixing: climate change in general as well as other specific issues, such anxiety over the havoc caused by invasive species and human meddling in the evolution of 'crowd pleasing' species; the long legacy of toxic waste, especially that which is in shallow waters near shore; the bioethics of genetic testing and the very real effects on the disabled community; the potential folly of allowing business to hide behind 'science!' as an excuse for terrible decisions/behavior; and similar issues.
When I first attempted to read this book, there were a ton of negative reviews that basically boiled down to complaints that the collection was 'too political or politically correct' or that 'such writing should have it's own book and not be in with science and nature articles,' which is...for a lack of a better word: dumb. Elke Mackenzie was a botanist of towering importance. The fact that she was also a transwoman and is still, even posthumously, treated badly by scientific institutions is something worth discussing. In reading The Unsung Heroine of Lichenology, I learned a lot about a scientist I'd never heard of before, a niche field, and a problem that's still pervasive and affects the scientific community today. Similarly, in The Scramble to Pluck 24 Billion Cherries in 8 Weeks, I learned a lot about the (in)stability of the modern food system, how agribusiness monocropping works, and the practical effects on the lives of the people who actually have to pick all that food even in the middle of a pandemic for little pay and often with no access to healthcare if they get sick. These are topics with a sociopolitical dimension to them, but that doesn't exclude them from being about nature or science.
Happily, in the intervening year, a lot of those kinds of reviews seem to have been pushed to the bottom of the listing, but in case anyone is still seeing them I reiterate: the collection is fine and, unless you were really on the ball with your pandemic reading, you're likely to learn a lot from the wide variety of topics and perspectives covered here.
That being said, even though this was a long and somewhat difficult read for me, I would recommend it. Even if one cannot take the time to read the entire book, I still suggest the following articles:
- The Scramble to Pluck 24 Billion Cherries in 8 Weeks by Brooke Jarvis
- Periwinkle, the Color of Poison, Modernism, and Dusk by Katy Kelleher
- The Unsung Heroine of Lichenology by Sarina Imbler
- Out There, Nobody Can Hear You Scream by Latria Graham
- A Toxic Secret Lurks in the Deep Sea by Rosanna Xia
- The Last Children of Down Syndrome by Sarah Zhang
- Ed Yong, Editor of The Best Science and Nature Writing 2021
I originally tried reading this is April of 2022 and just...could not. The entire first section is about the nitty gritty of the pandemic and with other real life stuff going on at the time I couldn't concentrate on reading those articles, and found even a few paragraphs emotionally exhausting when I tried. So, now it's June of 2023 and - after finally getting this book back in as library hold - I finished it. (Barely. I still wasn't in a great place for some of the content, such as the chapter the focused on palliative care for cancer patients, but it's finished and before tomorrow's due date.)
The Best American series focuses on trying to curate the best stories/articles published in a given year; this one, obviously, focuses on articles that have something to do with science and/or nature that were published in 2020. As such, it's hardly unexpected that this book is broken into three categories: Contagion, Connections, and Consequences. The first focuses primarily on the pandemic: how race and access to healthcare affect patient outcomes; chronicling the state of the elder care industry and how that contributed to so many deaths in nursing homes; modern agribusiness, treatment of farmworkers, and the general unsustainability of US agriculture practices without immigrants; and other, similar topics. The second focuses on reexamining assumptions in science and how science as a field collectively treats people and other beings: the biography of a misremembered titan; musings on how animals are characterized and thought of; discussion of new research - or new perspectives on older research - regarding how people think, feel, and behave, as well as where we come from; and articles that strike a similar chord. The third and last section focuses primarily on drawing attention to things that are already problems and desperately need fixing: climate change in general as well as other specific issues, such anxiety over the havoc caused by invasive species and human meddling in the evolution of 'crowd pleasing' species; the long legacy of toxic waste, especially that which is in shallow waters near shore; the bioethics of genetic testing and the very real effects on the disabled community; the potential folly of allowing business to hide behind 'science!' as an excuse for terrible decisions/behavior; and similar issues.
When I first attempted to read this book, there were a ton of negative reviews that basically boiled down to complaints that the collection was 'too political or politically correct' or that 'such writing should have it's own book and not be in with science and nature articles,' which is...for a lack of a better word: dumb. Elke Mackenzie was a botanist of towering importance. The fact that she was also a transwoman and is still, even posthumously, treated badly by scientific institutions is something worth discussing. In reading The Unsung Heroine of Lichenology, I learned a lot about a scientist I'd never heard of before, a niche field, and a problem that's still pervasive and affects the scientific community today. Similarly, in The Scramble to Pluck 24 Billion Cherries in 8 Weeks, I learned a lot about the (in)stability of the modern food system, how agribusiness monocropping works, and the practical effects on the lives of the people who actually have to pick all that food even in the middle of a pandemic for little pay and often with no access to healthcare if they get sick. These are topics with a sociopolitical dimension to them, but that doesn't exclude them from being about nature or science.
Happily, in the intervening year, a lot of those kinds of reviews seem to have been pushed to the bottom of the listing, but in case anyone is still seeing them I reiterate: the collection is fine and, unless you were really on the ball with your pandemic reading, you're likely to learn a lot from the wide variety of topics and perspectives covered here.
That being said, even though this was a long and somewhat difficult read for me, I would recommend it. Even if one cannot take the time to read the entire book, I still suggest the following articles:
- The Scramble to Pluck 24 Billion Cherries in 8 Weeks by Brooke Jarvis
- Periwinkle, the Color of Poison, Modernism, and Dusk by Katy Kelleher
- The Unsung Heroine of Lichenology by Sarina Imbler
- Out There, Nobody Can Hear You Scream by Latria Graham
- A Toxic Secret Lurks in the Deep Sea by Rosanna Xia
- The Last Children of Down Syndrome by Sarah Zhang
July 9, 2022
Well, I can’t say I actually enjoyed much of this anthology, but there is some very good writing in it. It’s just that so much of it is about Covid or climate change (or both) that it is terribly bleak. Read for Read Harder 2022.
November 13, 2021
Lots of interesting articles, even if many were COVID related and from earlier in the pandemic. It was still interesting to read about what we were thinking and looking into back then. Plenty of other great non-COVID reads.
March 6, 2022
I have bought every year of this anthology since about 2000 and this is certainly the one
I have liked the least. I know we are living through a pandemic, but do we have to read about it in the majority of the pieces in the collection. There are other things going on in the world that would be interesting and give us a break from the unending Covid diet. There are far too many pieces on Covid here and many, if not all of them were out of date by the time the book arrived on the shelves. I think Ed Yong has done a poor job in making the selections for the book.
I have liked the least. I know we are living through a pandemic, but do we have to read about it in the majority of the pieces in the collection. There are other things going on in the world that would be interesting and give us a break from the unending Covid diet. There are far too many pieces on Covid here and many, if not all of them were out of date by the time the book arrived on the shelves. I think Ed Yong has done a poor job in making the selections for the book.
June 15, 2022
More than one essay was misinformed/scientifically naive, i.e., disappointing as sample of science and nature writing. Good writers, of course, just not the best researchers in every case. Tough job selecting essays for the pandemic era... Still, I had hoped the editor (Yong) would do better.
January 12, 2024
I was drawn to this book because I saw Ed Yong, a journalist whose writing I really respect, was that year's curator. I read this book soon after it came out and set it down for a long while and recently returned to finish it. It was appropriate that I read the "Contagion" section encompassing COVID related stories during that first read and recall finding them fascinating, heartbreaking and thought provoking.
More recently I read "Connections" and "Consequences" and found the curation of stories so well done. There was a story about our universe that had me in awe of this wonder of a thing that we live in and what we know and don't know and may never know.
I appreciated the perspectives provided in these stories especially with respect to endings - whether discussing climate change impacts or they way we die.
At the end of one story on the fate of the monarch, a conservationist was asked if she felt she was staving off some dark future only to respond that no, "I feel like I am at the end of something amazing." And I thought what a perspective to have at this place in time. It is acknowledgement that yes, things will end, but we can bear witness nevertheless and remain in awe of the wonder of thing. It is easy to go straight to dread when it comes to climate. This individual was not giving up and was still working to monitor and aid the species, but also had no illusions about the change that was afoot and the result that was looking more likely.
Another story noted the "amazing and terrible thing about being human is how quickly we adapt to circumstances unthinkable just years, or months, or weeks in the past. But it offered hope too - that we require a split imagination that can imagine a past flourishing and a future where we might flourish again.
There is a great story about periwinkle, a harrowing story about a happiness researcher, a story about the reality of being a person of color who loves to be out in nature and another about an lichenologist who bravely came out as trans at a time, 1976, when it was unheard of.
I love how woven into these science and nature centered stories is our humanity and interconnectedness. This type of writing has a way of educating, fascinating and drawing attention to the wonder of our world and at the same time challenging us to think about what we learn, observe and the changes that come from innovation. This was a very satisfying read.
More recently I read "Connections" and "Consequences" and found the curation of stories so well done. There was a story about our universe that had me in awe of this wonder of a thing that we live in and what we know and don't know and may never know.
I appreciated the perspectives provided in these stories especially with respect to endings - whether discussing climate change impacts or they way we die.
At the end of one story on the fate of the monarch, a conservationist was asked if she felt she was staving off some dark future only to respond that no, "I feel like I am at the end of something amazing." And I thought what a perspective to have at this place in time. It is acknowledgement that yes, things will end, but we can bear witness nevertheless and remain in awe of the wonder of thing. It is easy to go straight to dread when it comes to climate. This individual was not giving up and was still working to monitor and aid the species, but also had no illusions about the change that was afoot and the result that was looking more likely.
Another story noted the "amazing and terrible thing about being human is how quickly we adapt to circumstances unthinkable just years, or months, or weeks in the past. But it offered hope too - that we require a split imagination that can imagine a past flourishing and a future where we might flourish again.
There is a great story about periwinkle, a harrowing story about a happiness researcher, a story about the reality of being a person of color who loves to be out in nature and another about an lichenologist who bravely came out as trans at a time, 1976, when it was unheard of.
I love how woven into these science and nature centered stories is our humanity and interconnectedness. This type of writing has a way of educating, fascinating and drawing attention to the wonder of our world and at the same time challenging us to think about what we learn, observe and the changes that come from innovation. This was a very satisfying read.
Read
February 4, 2022I had to read this in chunks, because to be frank, it literally felt emotionally taxing to read so many essays about the pandemic. The vantage point from which many of these essays were written from was from a time when we didn't yet know how things were going to play out over the next year. It felt a little bit like reading reports about a car wreck, but before knowing its true aftermath, such as the number of fatalities, the effects on survivors, etc.
I can't say that I loved all of these; many of them were just so bleak, I mean rightfully so, considering the topics, but without coming together in a way beyond "we're fucked." And I mean, we are, but that's what I expect to feel when I read news. News are always missing that last beat because we don't know how things will unfold from that initial event. When I read essays, I expect to be taken on a journey and then I long for an ending note that compels me to think. Not necessarily hopeful or uplifting, sometimes the end really is, "we're fucked," but there's a thought you're left with that makes you feel inclined to take the idea further. That's how the best essays function, I think.
A lot of these essays take you through a maze of conundrums, depressing facts (I'm okay with that, some topics are inherently depressing and they deserve to be written about and discussed), and then dump you out in a cul-de-sac (frustrating feeling) and I guess that was hard to read when you're already depressed and feeling like you're already in a cul-de-sac because of the friggin pandemic.
However, the ones worth tracking down if you don't read the book:
"I'm an ER Doctor in New York. None of Us Will Ever be the Same" / Helen Ouyang
"The Scramble to Pluck 24 Billion Cherries in Eight Weeks" / Brooke Jarvis
"Out There No One Can Hear You Scream" / Latria Graham
"This is How We Live Now" / Emily Raboteau
"SpaceX is Taking Over a Tiny Texas Neighborhood" / Marina Koren
"The Friendship and Love Hospital" / Jiayang Fan
"The Last Children of Down syndrome" / Sarah Zhang
I can't say that I loved all of these; many of them were just so bleak, I mean rightfully so, considering the topics, but without coming together in a way beyond "we're fucked." And I mean, we are, but that's what I expect to feel when I read news. News are always missing that last beat because we don't know how things will unfold from that initial event. When I read essays, I expect to be taken on a journey and then I long for an ending note that compels me to think. Not necessarily hopeful or uplifting, sometimes the end really is, "we're fucked," but there's a thought you're left with that makes you feel inclined to take the idea further. That's how the best essays function, I think.
A lot of these essays take you through a maze of conundrums, depressing facts (I'm okay with that, some topics are inherently depressing and they deserve to be written about and discussed), and then dump you out in a cul-de-sac (frustrating feeling) and I guess that was hard to read when you're already depressed and feeling like you're already in a cul-de-sac because of the friggin pandemic.
However, the ones worth tracking down if you don't read the book:
"I'm an ER Doctor in New York. None of Us Will Ever be the Same" / Helen Ouyang
"The Scramble to Pluck 24 Billion Cherries in Eight Weeks" / Brooke Jarvis
"Out There No One Can Hear You Scream" / Latria Graham
"This is How We Live Now" / Emily Raboteau
"SpaceX is Taking Over a Tiny Texas Neighborhood" / Marina Koren
"The Friendship and Love Hospital" / Jiayang Fan
"The Last Children of Down syndrome" / Sarah Zhang
March 19, 2022
Having to edit the 2021 edition of "The Best American Science and Nature Writing," which selects the best articles/essays from 2020, must have been a difficult task. Ed Yong, who has done and continues to do some fantastic writing about the COVID-19 pandemic, did a great job with a thankless task; he acknowledges the pandemic (the first section, "Contagion" is entirely about the pandemic) and many of the articles/writing in the other two sections ("Connections", "Consequences") also mention the pandemic even through they're about other subjects, especially climate change.
Like with any anthology, I didn't love every piece. This is particularly true for the "Contagion" section. While some of the articles/essays are exceptional (Helen Ouyang's piece about being an ER doctor in a NYC hospital, Katie Engelhart's piece about a nursing home in Washington State, and Brooke Jarvis' piece about fruit pickers and the pandemic all stand out), others are more explainers about the pandemic or SARS-CoV-2. I wish the editors of the Best series had included information about when these pieces were written (yes, you can find the publication date on the copyright page) to make it clearer what was the state of the pandemic when the piece was published. Some people interviewed in the pieces, for instance, haven't aged well (specifically Pierre Kory, who is a major advocate for ivermectin despite the evidence from RCTs that it provides little to no benefit for hospitalized patients).
The strongest section is definitely "Consequences", where the articles/essays manage to be both extremely informing, have a story, and are wonderfully written. Sarah Zhang's piece for The Atlantic about the genetic testing and Down Syndrome, which is the very last article in the anthology, is definitely the standout piece IMO: nuanced and heart-breaking, you'll be thinking about this essay and about the ethical questions it raises for days.
Like with any anthology, I didn't love every piece. This is particularly true for the "Contagion" section. While some of the articles/essays are exceptional (Helen Ouyang's piece about being an ER doctor in a NYC hospital, Katie Engelhart's piece about a nursing home in Washington State, and Brooke Jarvis' piece about fruit pickers and the pandemic all stand out), others are more explainers about the pandemic or SARS-CoV-2. I wish the editors of the Best series had included information about when these pieces were written (yes, you can find the publication date on the copyright page) to make it clearer what was the state of the pandemic when the piece was published. Some people interviewed in the pieces, for instance, haven't aged well (specifically Pierre Kory, who is a major advocate for ivermectin despite the evidence from RCTs that it provides little to no benefit for hospitalized patients).
The strongest section is definitely "Consequences", where the articles/essays manage to be both extremely informing, have a story, and are wonderfully written. Sarah Zhang's piece for The Atlantic about the genetic testing and Down Syndrome, which is the very last article in the anthology, is definitely the standout piece IMO: nuanced and heart-breaking, you'll be thinking about this essay and about the ethical questions it raises for days.
August 8, 2022
Not my favorite entry in the series, which is especially disappointing given the editor. The period of the collection covers most of hardest part of 2020: COVID, social justice reckoning, etc.... a period of time that produced a lot of great writing but subject matters that don't exactly given me pleasure to rehash. And Ed Yong decided to enrich the collection with stories of this ilk, using his introduction to explain that in the era of COVID, everything has become science and nature writing. Fair enough I guess, but has implications for the tone and coverage of the book.
So rather than a collection of offbeat science and unappreciated nature articles, this instead is a book that is 2/3 pandemic, DEI and becoming-less-topical current events coverage of a time when it felt like the world was ending. There is nothing wrong with that per se - it certainly will be one of the most formative times of our lives - but I was less enthusiastic to race through the collection than in other editions.
On the other hand (or rather, because of this), this is the first time I went through the 'Other Notable Science and Nature Writing' appendix at the back of the book. And here I find the science and nature stories I normally expect to find in this anthology. A few of my favorites that in other years would probably have been promoted to the front:
- The Slow, Troubling Death of the Autopsy (Elemental)
- Australia Has a Flesh-Eating Bacteria Problem (The Atlantic)
- Bite Club (NYTimes Magazine)
- We are Gone (Outside)
- The Trash Nebula (New Yorker)
- Dogs: A Love Story (Popular Science)
- How a Dispute Over a Single Number Became a Cosmological Crisis (Scientific American)
- A Deadly Principle (New Yorker)
- The Skeleton Lake (New Yorker)
- Pythons of the Everglades (The Bitter Southerner)
- How Sweet it Is (New Yorker)
- On Cairns, Hoodoos and Monoliths (Literary Hub)
So rather than a collection of offbeat science and unappreciated nature articles, this instead is a book that is 2/3 pandemic, DEI and becoming-less-topical current events coverage of a time when it felt like the world was ending. There is nothing wrong with that per se - it certainly will be one of the most formative times of our lives - but I was less enthusiastic to race through the collection than in other editions.
On the other hand (or rather, because of this), this is the first time I went through the 'Other Notable Science and Nature Writing' appendix at the back of the book. And here I find the science and nature stories I normally expect to find in this anthology. A few of my favorites that in other years would probably have been promoted to the front:
- The Slow, Troubling Death of the Autopsy (Elemental)
- Australia Has a Flesh-Eating Bacteria Problem (The Atlantic)
- Bite Club (NYTimes Magazine)
- We are Gone (Outside)
- The Trash Nebula (New Yorker)
- Dogs: A Love Story (Popular Science)
- How a Dispute Over a Single Number Became a Cosmological Crisis (Scientific American)
- A Deadly Principle (New Yorker)
- The Skeleton Lake (New Yorker)
- Pythons of the Everglades (The Bitter Southerner)
- How Sweet it Is (New Yorker)
- On Cairns, Hoodoos and Monoliths (Literary Hub)
June 22, 2023
Reading this book is like taking a terrifying rollercoaster ride through the world of science and nature in 2020 -- which was, of course, dominated by COVID, COVID, and yep, more COVID.
Inside you'll find a compilation of 26 articles, mostly penned by journalists or staff writers at magazines. Yong has neatly divided them into three sections: Contagion, Connection, and Consequences. Most of the articles are gems - well-written, engaging, and most importantly, eye-opening.
Among my favourites were "I'm an ER Doctor in New York. None of Us Will Ever Be The Same" by Helen Ouyang? (Heart-wrenching.) "What Happened In Room 10?" by Katie Engelhart? (A real page-turner.) "The Friendship and Love Hospital" by Jiayang Fan and "The Last Children of Down Syndrome" by Sarah Zhang. (Both simply brilliant.) These pieces resonated with me on a personal level, and I found myself thinking about them long after I'd finished reading.
But, like any rollercoaster, there were a few dips. "What the Coronavirus Means for Climate Change" by Meehan Crist, "River of Time," by Namwali Serpell and "The Unsung Heroine of Lichenology" by Sabrina Imbler didn't quite hit the mark for me. They were well-written, sure, but they just didn't grab me in the same way.
What I love about this book is how it doesn't shy away from the tough stuff. These articles confront us with the harsh realities of our world, the result of our own carelessness. It's like a wake-up call, a reminder that we need to do better.
Inside you'll find a compilation of 26 articles, mostly penned by journalists or staff writers at magazines. Yong has neatly divided them into three sections: Contagion, Connection, and Consequences. Most of the articles are gems - well-written, engaging, and most importantly, eye-opening.
Among my favourites were "I'm an ER Doctor in New York. None of Us Will Ever Be The Same" by Helen Ouyang? (Heart-wrenching.) "What Happened In Room 10?" by Katie Engelhart? (A real page-turner.) "The Friendship and Love Hospital" by Jiayang Fan and "The Last Children of Down Syndrome" by Sarah Zhang. (Both simply brilliant.) These pieces resonated with me on a personal level, and I found myself thinking about them long after I'd finished reading.
But, like any rollercoaster, there were a few dips. "What the Coronavirus Means for Climate Change" by Meehan Crist, "River of Time," by Namwali Serpell and "The Unsung Heroine of Lichenology" by Sabrina Imbler didn't quite hit the mark for me. They were well-written, sure, but they just didn't grab me in the same way.
What I love about this book is how it doesn't shy away from the tough stuff. These articles confront us with the harsh realities of our world, the result of our own carelessness. It's like a wake-up call, a reminder that we need to do better.
December 28, 2021
"My body has been alight for months now period from within this illness, I have come to think that Siberia and I endure more than a coincidence in temperature. Our fevers are stoked by related patterns of economic production, patterns both relatively new and seemingly inevitable. And my corporeal fire says something about how a continental fire can go unseen, offering a lesson in the implications of duration: how as a condition lingers, its origins or significance grow harder to see. Long Covid and climate change are alike in this: live ill for long enough, and the absence of health threatens to become normal." This quote encapsulates the thematic thread of this year's collection of science and nature writing. I was relieved to see it didn't all come from the pandemic (odd how much of it already seems outdated), but some of the work on climate change is just as distressing. "Happiness won't save you" is a really honest look at depression but I would skip it if you're sensitive to the subject of death by suicide. The piece on cherry picking and migratory work is really kind of amazing (and again, distressing) and the "Cancel Earthworms" piece taught me that not all earthworms are good earthworms (& they can actually be very destructive lil m-fers). Great edition of this series.
June 17, 2024
After I read about half of this book, something made me read Contributors' Notes at the end which caused me to surprisingly find that ALL articles in this book were by female authors! Having read most of this series in the past 20 years or so, I think this one is the very first without any articles by male authors. Since the editors say nothing about this fact in their forewords, I figure this may be just a pure happenstance. But I cannot help but feel that this is quite against a familiar American principle of gender equity. Perhaps, having Ed Yong as the guest editor would be enough to be considered not violating the principle.
As an edition formed during the COVID era, too many articles are unavoidably skewed towards social impact and chronicle of life in the pandemic and much less to do with a wider scope of scientific scrutiny or analysis. Many are mildly informative but I like the last 2 articles which are mainly about social culture aspect of 2 human societies on 2 different social matters of modern life.
I still have one last edition of this series to read before I decide if I will stop reading it or not as I see this series have become less and less interesting to me when too many articles veer away from what they used to be.
As an edition formed during the COVID era, too many articles are unavoidably skewed towards social impact and chronicle of life in the pandemic and much less to do with a wider scope of scientific scrutiny or analysis. Many are mildly informative but I like the last 2 articles which are mainly about social culture aspect of 2 human societies on 2 different social matters of modern life.
I still have one last edition of this series to read before I decide if I will stop reading it or not as I see this series have become less and less interesting to me when too many articles veer away from what they used to be.
January 22, 2022
A dark mirror reflecting the times. An incident in Wuhan led to the spread of a virus that until today has failed to be contained because of a combination of factors: people interacting in confined or poorly ventilated spaces, where a virus is more likely to get airborne or be spread through physical contact; people not wearing medically-approved masks that would prevent the spread; travel in highly-trafficked places; climates more conducive to spread; plus plain old bad luck. We learn in this volume ("What the Coronavirus Means for Climate Change," The New York Times) that while quarantine has already shown marked improvements to the environment due to reduced human activity, it is likely that the renewed demand for fossil fuels and a return to normalcy will lead to more harm to the environment, where we will experience even more the deleterious effects of climate change. Is there anything we can do? Not if after this we continue with business as usual or transfer our faith to private tech to save us.
September 4, 2023
Another solid compilation of science writing. A lot focused on covid-19, but later sections had a mix of topics. Standouts for me included the pieces on invasive earthworms, the science of happiness, lots on climate change, Yaqui catfish, monarch butterflies, millions of barrels of DDT off of Catalina island, and the future of genetic screening & Down syndrome.
All interesting, but definitely increased my climate anxiety.
Some of my favorite quotes:
“The concept of the "personal carbon footprint" was popularized by BP in a 2005 media campaign costing over $100 million--a campaign that, research has indicated, deflected responsibility for climate change away from the corporation and onto the individual consumer.”
“At least we know that dark energy is not a particle like dark matter. Some scientists think it could be another dimension leaking into our universe.”
^ what the fuckkk
“Happiness involves the enthusiastic and unambivalent acceptance of activities or relationships that are not the best that might possibly be obtained”
^basically be content with things as they are
All interesting, but definitely increased my climate anxiety.
Some of my favorite quotes:
“The concept of the "personal carbon footprint" was popularized by BP in a 2005 media campaign costing over $100 million--a campaign that, research has indicated, deflected responsibility for climate change away from the corporation and onto the individual consumer.”
“At least we know that dark energy is not a particle like dark matter. Some scientists think it could be another dimension leaking into our universe.”
^ what the fuckkk
“Happiness involves the enthusiastic and unambivalent acceptance of activities or relationships that are not the best that might possibly be obtained”
^basically be content with things as they are
July 23, 2025
Wow, was that bad. It is my 7th in the series and if it is following some sort of trendline, I doubt I will read many more. It calls itself 'Science and Nature' writing but there is very little of the former and only a modest dose of the latter and much of that in the 'world is ending' genre. Yes, it was Covid-heavy as expected for 2021, but there was far more about the sociological, political and emotional aspects of that disease and little about the science. Other stories descended into bitter rage screeds against the bad people out there. I noticed (at the end) that every author (I think) was female, I can only assume that was not a random choice. Maybe Ed Yong (please fire him from this job forever) mentioned it in his intro. Nothing against the better half, but this decision did not result in an impressive product, but hey a victory over the Patriarchy!
This was close to a rare DNF at times, but anthologies always hold out new hope for the next story--and a few were pretty good but not enough to lift up a disappointing volume. As another reviewer mentioned, the stories that missed the cut appeared to be a cut above.
This was close to a rare DNF at times, but anthologies always hold out new hope for the next story--and a few were pretty good but not enough to lift up a disappointing volume. As another reviewer mentioned, the stories that missed the cut appeared to be a cut above.
December 19, 2021
You don't have to be a scientist to read these annual anthologies, written for a broad but educated readership. This iteration of Best American Science and Nature Writing might be the best ever. Naturally, many of the essays concern the coronavirus and Covid-19, but from many different angles beyond epidemiology. As always, there are some weaknesses, but the overwhelming number of very good essays make this collection worth the read.
My favorites:
I'm an ER Doctor in New York. None of Us Will Ever Be the Same by Helen Ouyang. Documenting the surge of patients that overwhelmed one particular NY hospital.
What Happened in Room 10 by Katie Engelhart. The story of the initial outbreak at a nursing home.
Rabbit Fever by Susan Orlean. A non-pandemic story about rabbit viruses.
Happiness Won't Save You by Jennifer Senior. Recounting the tragic story of a researcher into the psychology of happiness and his suicide.
The Last Children of Down Syndrome by Sarah Zhang. A look at the moral complications of genetic testing for certain genetic conditions.
My favorites:
I'm an ER Doctor in New York. None of Us Will Ever Be the Same by Helen Ouyang. Documenting the surge of patients that overwhelmed one particular NY hospital.
What Happened in Room 10 by Katie Engelhart. The story of the initial outbreak at a nursing home.
Rabbit Fever by Susan Orlean. A non-pandemic story about rabbit viruses.
Happiness Won't Save You by Jennifer Senior. Recounting the tragic story of a researcher into the psychology of happiness and his suicide.
The Last Children of Down Syndrome by Sarah Zhang. A look at the moral complications of genetic testing for certain genetic conditions.
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