The Nurture Assumption (book)

Judith Rich Harris The Nurture Assumption (1998) Harris attacks the assumption that we turn out the way we do because of our parents. It's not nurture by parents that determines our adult personality (and personal problems / successes), it's our peer group. She starts with a couple of obvious but unaddressed observations: 1) that children in fact live their lives with other children; and 2) that immigrant children adopt the language, dress and manners of their playmates, not their parents. (She has some wise things to say about this estrangement between immigrant parents and their children.)  On this foundation she builds a very persuasive case. Along the way she distinguishes between character (largely inborn), personality (largely acquired, and changeable), and the self (the result of socialisation.)
     Harris's theory is almost but not quite a theory of everything. She notes how the same-age peer-group is an effect of our modern civilisation, and that in earlier societies a child's peer group was multi-aged. The older kids pass on their culture to the younger ones in this case. In our case, the younger ones may as well be from different countries, they are so different from their older relatives and friends. (The Pokemon craze supports this: it's a 6-10 year old phenom, mostly.) She also notes that school success flows primarily from the values and attitudes of the peer group, not the parents. When a child lives in a homogeneous neighbourhood, where both parents and children are largely similar, the child will of course resemble its parents, not because parental culture is the molding force, but because the children's culture differs so little from that of their parents'. When the neighbourhood is culturally diverse, the children will adapt and create a culture of their own, and this may be radically different from that of their parents. Hence intergenerational conflict
     She does not ignore the effect of inheritance; in fact she claims that the investigators of inherited traits are the ones who produce the data that requires some other explanation(s) than the nurture assumption. And so on. Her theory is predictive. For example, twins raised apart should show more similarities when their peer groups are similar and fewer when they are different. This is borne out by the data. She claims that birth-order effects are real, but only within the family. IOW, people have different personalities in different social contexts. She does not deny the influence of parents, but notes that it is limited mostly to the family itself (ie, how the people get along as a family), in which parental influence competes with sibling influence; and for the rest it is indirect, in that the choice of where to live affects the peer-groups that will influence the child.
     I think her argument is plausible. Her smaller claim is that there is a lot more to human development than parental nurture; and she lists and explains the other influences. Her larger claim is that these other influences outweigh that of parents. I think she is right. The book is quite repetitious, since she builds her case from several different starting points. It could have done with some tables or graphs, or some appendices presenting the data. Nevertheless, this is an important book.  The nurture assumption is under attack from other quarters also. There is the danger that social scientists will create a new orthodoxy out of one or the other of the alternatives, however. **** (1999)
     Update 2012: It's now quite clear that nature vs nurture has always been a nonsensical dichotomy. Logic alone would dictate that conclusion: no observed trait can be wholly the product of either nature or nurture. When I first realised this, I thought the puzzle was how to assign proportionate influences to nature and nurture. Genetics has shown that this is a mistaken, or at least a misdirecting, question. Nature and nurture work together to produce any given trait or behaviour. The better question is how, not how much.

Impossibility (book)

John D. Barrow Impossibility (1998) There are several kinds of impossibility, but they fall into three groups. There is the practical impossibility, reflecting some limits to the resources we (or any other creature) can command. Then the nature of the Universe itself sets limits on the possible. And all logical systems above a certain level of complexity exhibit impossibilities.
     An example of practical impossibility is the solution of problems that would take more computing time than the lifetime of the Universe; another is travelling beyond the solar system. Whether the Universe has a beginning or not is an example of a question we cannot answer because, although we can specify what we should need to know in order to settle the question, we cannot get the necessary knowledge. An example of a logical impossibility is expressed in Godel's theorem, which states that any axiomatic system at least as complex as arithmetic contains statements whose truth or falsehood cannot be determined
     A more interesting example is Arrow's Impossibility theorem: as the number of candidates for office increases, the probability that there will be no majority winner. approaches certainty. What this means in practice is that whoever wins, most people wanted someone else. The result can be generalised to any situation with multiple, mutually independent choices . It also applies to sporting events. Where several teams compete for a championship, there is surprisingly large possibility that the winner can be (and often has been) beaten by one or more of the losers. With 8 teams, the odds of this happening are 1 in 3.
     Barrow is a somewhat turgid writer. There are irritating typographical errors throughout the book, mostly of the wrong-word variety; an effect of reliance on spell checkers. The book is heavy going in places. I have read similar discussions elsewhere, and so didn't get hopelessly lost, but anyone who hasn't at least a senior high school understanding of physics, logic, mathematics, and other disciplines will probably have trouble following some of Barrow's arguments. Nevertheless, it's worth reading, if only to disabuse one of the notion that all things are possible. Barrow's most subtle point is this: that impossibilities, the limits of action and knowledge, tell us more about the nature of our Universe than the possibilities do. *** (1999)

Update 2012: if quantum computers do become a reality, then the range of solvable problems will enlarge by many orders of magnitude. Then question then become which of these problems are worth solving, which may be impossible to answer without solving the problem.

Update 2019: Minor correcctions in style and spelling.

Night Train (book)

Martin Amis Night Train (1997) 1st person police procedural. The narrator is Mike Hoolihan, a female detective. She investigates the apparent suicide of her commander's exquisitely lovely and happy daughter. Doesn't quite work, despite the excellent characterisation of Mike -- her voice is consistent, the tone believably variable, and so on. I liked Mike. I think the problem is that the solution, when it comes, fails to explain the suicide. I suppose that was Amis's point: some events have no discoverable explanation. The girl did kill herself, so the issue is why. Mike comes close, so there is a kind of resolution, but in the end it doesn't fit what we learn of the girl's character.** (1999)

The Quick Red Fox (book)

John D. MacDonald The Quick Red Fox (1964) A Travis McGee book. Travis has to find the source of porn pictures taken at an orgy in which a famous film star participated, and which are being used for a spot of blackmail. The star's amanuensis accompanies him, and they have brief and very good affair. He traces the people involved, most of whom have come to a bad end. There are recent murders, which complicate the case. Travis eventually solves it, more by luck than by brains. The murderer is the very young wife of one of the orgy participants (who like the other men Travis tracks down is really a wimp.) Travis's woman is hit on the head, which changes her personality so that she doesn't want him any more.
     Having read this, I know why I have avoided this author. I did read him years ago, and haven't since. The book is too obviously fantasy., especially when it comes to women and Travis's fighting skills. MacDonald tries for the world weary, tough-guy, tarnished knight atmosphere, but doesn't quite pull it off. Every now and then Travis explains some philosophical point(s), which may reflect MacDonald's p.o.v. If so, I don't like him. He's homophobic, patronising towards ordinary folk trying to make an ordinary life, and typically American in his worship of sex as the highest communication between people. He's also sentimental, which is not necessarily a flaw, since the genre is sentimental at its core, but in this case raises a whiff of hypocrisy. The book also reeks of mid-60s prurience. Other people do this kind of thing much better. ** (1999)

The Body Farm (book)

Patricia Cornwell The Body Farm (1994) A mystery. The investigator is Kate Scarpetta, a lawyer and forensic pathologist. The victim is an 11-year-old girl, and it seems the murderer is a serial killer who has escaped from prison. He may be planning revenge on Kate and her team members. The sub-plot involves Kate's niece, framed for a break-in into a secure area and computer system (on which she is working). The murderer turns out to be the girl's mother (Munchhausen syndrome at work.) The personal relationships continue on from previous books, and will no doubt continue into subsequent ones. The 1st person p.o.v. doesn't always work, partly because Kate is undemonstrative (countering the Italian stereotype), and partly because Cornwell mixes genres, love-romance with mystery.
     On the whole, though, the book works. The procedural bits are convincing, the dialogue both characterising and plot-structuring, Kate is a sympathetic hero who is beginning to be damaged by her profession, and knows it. She also suffers from a dysfunctional family that for once doesn't seem inserted for dramatic effect, but fits her character and helps account for her life history (what little we get of it in one book.) The bleakness of her mood reminds one of the noir PI novels of Chandler and his followers, but it's really intended to be more elegiac. Like many modern crime writers, Cornwell assumes her readers are familiar with the genre and doesn't bother explaining the obvious. This occasionally makes for an unsettling abruptness and a need to reread a passage. I'll be reading more of these. *** (1999) Update 2012: I did read a few more in this series, but was eventually put off by the unvarying formula, and Cornwell's taste for gore. Scarpetta's backstory became more melodramatic, too, which didn't help.

The First World War (book)

John Keegan The First World War (1998) A very good book, with some flaws. Keegan surveys the political and military development. He has a knack for telling the story of battles so that one can follow them. He includes the human dimension, both of the soldier in the trenches and the generals behind the lines. He doesn't comment much on the actual destruction of life, nature, and property, but the few references to these things are enough. There aren't enough pictures, and apart from titles on the picture pages there is no attempt to key pictures to chapters in the book. The maps are deficient, since they do not show all the places mentioned in the history, which is especially irritating when a battle hinged on a particular place. I suspect that production budget limits had a hand in this, as coloured maps are really the only way to convey the information properly.
     Keegan's style is elevated and in places almost elegiac. I learned a lot of things, eg, the number of generals sacked, especially by the French and Russian commanders; and the lack of co-ordination between front line and commanders, most of it caused by limited or absent technologies. On the other hand, too many commanders were unwilling to listen to their technical staff and fully exploit what technology they had.
     Several things stand out for me. One, the effect of the structure of government, especially in Germany and Russia, which had a lot to do with the precipitation of the war. Two, the long time it took for commanders to learn the lessons of their own defeats. Three, the superiority of German warmaking, even though the German commanders made the same mistakes as their French and British counterparts. Four, the indecisiveness of the outcome. It was the entry of the USA into the war that tipped the balance in favour of the Allies, and so forced the Central powers to accept defeat. Without the USA, there would, I think, have been peace negotiations among equals, for by the fall of 1918 both sides were worn out, both sides had depleted their human and material resources, and both side were facing a collapse of morale. As it was, the Allies had the upper hand, and, unused as they were to this situation, they gave in to their desire for revenge (almost always in previous European wars, peace came about not so much because one side won, but because the two sides decided there was no advantage to be gained by continued fighting). The first world war settled nothing, and so made the 2nd inevitable. It also created conditions that made a Hitler possible but not inevitable; so that Hitler made the war worse when it did come, but did no more than trigger it. The TV series Fall of Eagles (1971) covers much of the same ground in its last four or five episodes, and is worth seeing in conjunction with this book. **** (1999)

Stardust (Robert Parker, 1990)

Robert P. Parker Stardust (1990) (Borrowed from BR library.) A TV star is being harassed. Spenser takes on the job of protecting her, and then finding the murderer of her stunt double. After a series of vignettes typical of the genre, the case is cracked more by luck than skill, as the star goes to LA to be with a mobster who fathered her child. It transpires that her own father molested her when she was a toddler, which explains a lot of course.
      Good fast hard-boiled smart-ass style. Spenser is the scarred knight of American detective fiction. Parker knows the genre, and does a skilled job. The chapters are short, with good dialogue; the whole thing is very cinematic –  almost a script. As is usual with this genre, the love-interest is mere decoration (Spenser's lover is a psychologist, and you would think she could give him some relevant information, but she is definitely on the sidelines.) There is a politically-correct Black, Hawk, who is Spenser's good buddy, as expected in books of the 80s and 90s. The pathetic fallacy runs strong, again as required by the genre. Parker has an eye for telling detail, and the landscapes are nicely described. I read this book because a friend told me his book was more in the style of Parker, so I wanted to find out what this meant. *** (1999)

2026-06-10: Cover image added, and minor editing.