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Glyphosate and the Swirl: An Agroindustrial Chemical on the Move
In Glyphosate and the Swirl Vincanne Adams explores the chemical glyphosate—the active ingredient in Roundup and a pervasive agricultural herbicide—as a predicament of contested science and chemically saturated life. Adams traces the history of glyphosate’s invention and its multiple uses as activists, regulators, scientists, clinicians, consumers, and sick people try to determine its safety and harm. Scientific and political debates over glyphosate’s toxicity are agitated into a swirl—a condition in which certainty is continually contested, divided, and multiplied. This movement replicates the chemical’s movement in soils, foods, bodies, archives, labs, and legislative bodies, settling in some places here and in other places there, its potencies changing and altering what it touches with different scales and kinds of impact. The swirl is both an artifact of academic capitalism, activist tactics, and contested scientific facts and a way to capture the complexity of contemporary life with chemicals.
- GenresNonfictionAgriculture
184 pages, Paperback
Published January 3, 2023
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May 31, 2023
Glyphosate & the Swirl
I found this book sitting in my library's new book area. It is generated mixed emotions, a swirl if you will. Rating books is weird, and this was a particularly difficult one to ascribe a number. I enjoyed many aspects of this book, but had problems with many others.
The big idea in this book initially seemed amazing. I've had to think about glyphosate as part of a stewardship foundation and the swirl the author describes is completely in line with my reading and experience. It's an unusual and creative way to tackle a chemical, as a kind of multifaceted thingopological study. The author makes a really strong case for this approach because glyphosate is so many things at once. I'm not sure one could have described its many changing faces more aptly. Swirls are complex and glyphosate and other agroindustrial chemicals have complex identities. Still, by the end of the book, this description had grown stale. I think that it's a good premise and good fodder for a chapter or two but then I wish the book would have gone in some other direction, perhaps circling back to the idea of the swirl again towards the end.
I read a number of things in Glyphosate & the Swirl that shook the way I think. One such idea was treating chemical pollution as a form of colonialism (p. 53). Big corporations with a lot of money can do whatever they want. They can put horrible pollutants into the air or water right next to people who don't have the money to stop them. It's very much like taking over the land of someone else but by invading it with poisonous chemicals.
Another compelling idea in Glyphosate & the Swirl was the idea of personalized medicine trumping traditional science methods in the clinic. I am a scientist and believe in evidence-based inquiry, but when someone is really ill and struggling, maybe it makes more sense to not change one thing at a time. Rather, maybe it makes sense to throw a lot of changes at a person that wants just to make themselves well. When you do this, the outcome for the person can be great, but you might not be any closer to understanding what caused the problems in the first place. I had definitely thought about personalized medicine before, but this balancing act was really well presented in the fourth chapter.
I both liked and disliked the language used in this book. I remember when I was an undergraduate, I had a professor tell me that he hated the word 'utilize'; "why not just use the word use?", he would say. I think this is a bit of a stretch, but his point makes sense. When you can say something simply, do so. Glyphosate & the Swirl has many needlessly big words, much unnecessarily bulky grammar, and too many long torturous sentences. I have a PhD and read scientific papers frequently. The wording in this book seemed crazy to me at times. Sometimes, it was poetic and I liked that. However, in the end, I think this style would be better suited for a novel, not a nonfiction book. I don't think the approach was terrible because it prevented the book from being dry, but at times it was just gratuitous.
One big problem I had with the content of the book was that the author consistently conflated GM food and glyphosate. While it's clear that Monsanto uses genetically modified food to resist its pesticides, as is laid out nicely in the book, there are other GM foods that do not relate to glyphosate. Although this was alluded to, the two phrases "GM foods" and "glyphosate" were often used in tandem and interchangeably. Just because food is genetically modified does not mean it's bad. It could mean it's bad, but it doesn't have to. Lumping all GM foods together as bad is analogous to messages from the 1980s war on drugs. Heroin is clearly more dangerous than marijuana, but equivalating "drugs" caused people to mistrust the entire message, throwing the baby out with the bath water. For a book with a very nuanced argument about swirling interactions of meaning, this lumping was disappointing.
The author took pains to declare they are a dispassionate observer, but sentences like "... because the scientific archives often produce a kind of ignorance" (p 48) irked me because they did not have adequate follow up. It's like the author was slipping subliminal messages in over and over to induce the reader to accept them without proof. Sentences like "Regulators may even be producing and relying on flawed studies that have been bent to the industry's goals. But my point is not this." (p 48) seem intentionally wordsmithed to subtly suggest something nefarious without evidence and then immediately state 'but I'm not saying that'. It's like being in an argument with someone and saying "You have every reason to lie! But I'm not saying you're a liar." Don't get me wrong, the overarching message of the book was interesting and, imo, justified. This approach just bothered me. It is vexing to listen to someone use bad arguments to support something you (mostly) agree with. My feelings may be born out of the swirl of being a scientist, would-be activist, and avid reader.
The author talks about competing evidences throughout the book, but does little to explain how some sources are more reliable than others, other than to indict industry studies. This indictment was extended to science by including phrases such as "evasions of science" (p 110) and "... like the detritus of a scientific empire that has long since deserved to collapse" (p 133). I would argue that both industry and activists start with a desired outcome and then work to prove their desired outcome. Science, in its truest sense, starts with a question and doesn't care where it leads. This is part of the scientific method that makes it more reliable than some other ways of knowing. There are certainly issues in the practice of science, from the need to get grants to secure promotion or tenure to the fact that papers with negative data are rarely published, but leaving out that science starts with a question rather than a desired answer is a real shortcoming in this book. The book occasionally makes scientists seem like a nefarious bunch, or at least a pliable one, when they're really an underpaid lot, with convictions and ideas yes, but who try to do their best to produce ethical and impactful research. Furthermore, debate and disagreement in science, which is portrayed as a negative in the book (or at least a point of confusion), is really one of its strengths. Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. Though, I do agree that having some money makes this process easier.
Chapter 7 was convincing in its argument that glyphosate causes cancer. Finally, in this chapter, I read a narrative that was something I was looking for in this book. It was pithy and gave me something to hold on to.
By this point in the book I had a realization that the swirl is nothing more than a complex dynamical system. The idea that complexity might prevent truth is odd to me. Complexity in life is probably the norm and not the exception. While using the swirl is an interesting concept to get this point across, it is far from unique to glyphosate.
The books ends with the haunting, dystopian thought that Bayer, new owners of Monsanto, will continue to produce disease-causing chemicals and then use genetic modification to create medicines to treat those diseases, creating a swirl of dependency and profit. I hope we are better than that.
I finish Glyphosate & the Swirl with some additional knowledge about this chemical and its history. My initial excitement about the swirl abated quite a bit, but I still think it's an interesting way to present a story of complexity. I also really enjoyed the thingapological approach of the author. I was hoping to take what I learned from this book and use it to guide decisions in a stewardship foundation I am a part of. However, short of the material in chapter 7, I'm left with fewer facts than impressions. That's not a bad thing, but not exactly what I was looking for in this book either. Regardless, that book made me think, so that's a big plus.
I found this book sitting in my library's new book area. It is generated mixed emotions, a swirl if you will. Rating books is weird, and this was a particularly difficult one to ascribe a number. I enjoyed many aspects of this book, but had problems with many others.
The big idea in this book initially seemed amazing. I've had to think about glyphosate as part of a stewardship foundation and the swirl the author describes is completely in line with my reading and experience. It's an unusual and creative way to tackle a chemical, as a kind of multifaceted thingopological study. The author makes a really strong case for this approach because glyphosate is so many things at once. I'm not sure one could have described its many changing faces more aptly. Swirls are complex and glyphosate and other agroindustrial chemicals have complex identities. Still, by the end of the book, this description had grown stale. I think that it's a good premise and good fodder for a chapter or two but then I wish the book would have gone in some other direction, perhaps circling back to the idea of the swirl again towards the end.
I read a number of things in Glyphosate & the Swirl that shook the way I think. One such idea was treating chemical pollution as a form of colonialism (p. 53). Big corporations with a lot of money can do whatever they want. They can put horrible pollutants into the air or water right next to people who don't have the money to stop them. It's very much like taking over the land of someone else but by invading it with poisonous chemicals.
Another compelling idea in Glyphosate & the Swirl was the idea of personalized medicine trumping traditional science methods in the clinic. I am a scientist and believe in evidence-based inquiry, but when someone is really ill and struggling, maybe it makes more sense to not change one thing at a time. Rather, maybe it makes sense to throw a lot of changes at a person that wants just to make themselves well. When you do this, the outcome for the person can be great, but you might not be any closer to understanding what caused the problems in the first place. I had definitely thought about personalized medicine before, but this balancing act was really well presented in the fourth chapter.
I both liked and disliked the language used in this book. I remember when I was an undergraduate, I had a professor tell me that he hated the word 'utilize'; "why not just use the word use?", he would say. I think this is a bit of a stretch, but his point makes sense. When you can say something simply, do so. Glyphosate & the Swirl has many needlessly big words, much unnecessarily bulky grammar, and too many long torturous sentences. I have a PhD and read scientific papers frequently. The wording in this book seemed crazy to me at times. Sometimes, it was poetic and I liked that. However, in the end, I think this style would be better suited for a novel, not a nonfiction book. I don't think the approach was terrible because it prevented the book from being dry, but at times it was just gratuitous.
One big problem I had with the content of the book was that the author consistently conflated GM food and glyphosate. While it's clear that Monsanto uses genetically modified food to resist its pesticides, as is laid out nicely in the book, there are other GM foods that do not relate to glyphosate. Although this was alluded to, the two phrases "GM foods" and "glyphosate" were often used in tandem and interchangeably. Just because food is genetically modified does not mean it's bad. It could mean it's bad, but it doesn't have to. Lumping all GM foods together as bad is analogous to messages from the 1980s war on drugs. Heroin is clearly more dangerous than marijuana, but equivalating "drugs" caused people to mistrust the entire message, throwing the baby out with the bath water. For a book with a very nuanced argument about swirling interactions of meaning, this lumping was disappointing.
The author took pains to declare they are a dispassionate observer, but sentences like "... because the scientific archives often produce a kind of ignorance" (p 48) irked me because they did not have adequate follow up. It's like the author was slipping subliminal messages in over and over to induce the reader to accept them without proof. Sentences like "Regulators may even be producing and relying on flawed studies that have been bent to the industry's goals. But my point is not this." (p 48) seem intentionally wordsmithed to subtly suggest something nefarious without evidence and then immediately state 'but I'm not saying that'. It's like being in an argument with someone and saying "You have every reason to lie! But I'm not saying you're a liar." Don't get me wrong, the overarching message of the book was interesting and, imo, justified. This approach just bothered me. It is vexing to listen to someone use bad arguments to support something you (mostly) agree with. My feelings may be born out of the swirl of being a scientist, would-be activist, and avid reader.
The author talks about competing evidences throughout the book, but does little to explain how some sources are more reliable than others, other than to indict industry studies. This indictment was extended to science by including phrases such as "evasions of science" (p 110) and "... like the detritus of a scientific empire that has long since deserved to collapse" (p 133). I would argue that both industry and activists start with a desired outcome and then work to prove their desired outcome. Science, in its truest sense, starts with a question and doesn't care where it leads. This is part of the scientific method that makes it more reliable than some other ways of knowing. There are certainly issues in the practice of science, from the need to get grants to secure promotion or tenure to the fact that papers with negative data are rarely published, but leaving out that science starts with a question rather than a desired answer is a real shortcoming in this book. The book occasionally makes scientists seem like a nefarious bunch, or at least a pliable one, when they're really an underpaid lot, with convictions and ideas yes, but who try to do their best to produce ethical and impactful research. Furthermore, debate and disagreement in science, which is portrayed as a negative in the book (or at least a point of confusion), is really one of its strengths. Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. Though, I do agree that having some money makes this process easier.
Chapter 7 was convincing in its argument that glyphosate causes cancer. Finally, in this chapter, I read a narrative that was something I was looking for in this book. It was pithy and gave me something to hold on to.
By this point in the book I had a realization that the swirl is nothing more than a complex dynamical system. The idea that complexity might prevent truth is odd to me. Complexity in life is probably the norm and not the exception. While using the swirl is an interesting concept to get this point across, it is far from unique to glyphosate.
The books ends with the haunting, dystopian thought that Bayer, new owners of Monsanto, will continue to produce disease-causing chemicals and then use genetic modification to create medicines to treat those diseases, creating a swirl of dependency and profit. I hope we are better than that.
I finish Glyphosate & the Swirl with some additional knowledge about this chemical and its history. My initial excitement about the swirl abated quite a bit, but I still think it's an interesting way to present a story of complexity. I also really enjoyed the thingapological approach of the author. I was hoping to take what I learned from this book and use it to guide decisions in a stewardship foundation I am a part of. However, short of the material in chapter 7, I'm left with fewer facts than impressions. That's not a bad thing, but not exactly what I was looking for in this book either. Regardless, that book made me think, so that's a big plus.
Displaying 1 of 1 review