Few among my own almost literal contemporaries have had as
much influence on my thinking as Stephen Jay Gould, the paleontologist. I’ve
noted that before on this blog (here)
when discussing his The Mismeasure of Man
(1981). The subject of that book is aberrant uses of science—a subject that
popped up the other day in one of our morning discussions. I found the book
again. It came as one of two in a boxed set. The other was The Panda’s Thumb—probably the best known of Gould’s books written
for the general public. I began reading the book again after many years—and
discovered that some writings retain their originality, freshness, and still
bring new delight.
In the current context, for the first time, I did in about a
minute what in the good-old-days might have required a trip to the library. I
looked up Stephen Gould’s biography. And it stunned me to realize that he was
born some five years after I was (1941) and died at 60 (in 2002). Had I been
asked before this lookup, I would have imagined him my elder, my father’s age
perhaps—so singular are his accomplishments. Speaking of libraries, the Library
of Congress established, as part of the bicentennial celebrations of 2000, an
award called Living Legends. Gould received this award in April of 2000; two
years and a month later he had passed on, a victim of cancer. The Library was
just in time.
The Panda’s Thumb,
published in 1980, is a selection of some thirty-one essay, of a total of 300,
Gould wrote for the magazine Natural
History. Oddly now, in time’s distorting mirror, reading it one cannot help
but think that it reads like a strongly-themed biology blog. A kind of aura of
unity rises above it rainbow-like, with each essay drawing its light from that
aura and in turn contributing to it.
Gould’s chief scientific contribution to evolutionary thought,
developed with Niles Eldredge (1943-), is the theory of punctuated equilibrium.
Let me hazard to put the essence of this theory into a sentence. It proposes
that evolutionary change is rare but, when it happens, very rapid. Evolution
happens every now and then, therefore rarely in geological time; but when it
happens it does so with a Bang—not with a continuous whimper. The orthodox
theory is gradualism.
Gould, of course, belongs to the originals—who are rarely
celebrated by the always fossilized orthodoxy of their times. The best proof
that Gould had something real to say is to note that Richard Dawkins (he of The Selfish Gene and The God Delusion, among others)
dismisses Gould’s theory as a “minor gloss” on evolutionary thought.
I understand this business of imagining others to be the elders: those whom we imagine the wiser, the smarter, the more worldly-wise.
ReplyDeleteWhat a quaint hold-over from our youth!