* Max Dresow writes…
Here’s a question I’ve been asked before. I wish I were asked it all the time. In fact, I’ve been asked it just twice. But whatever— it’s a good question, and it warrants a thoughtful response.
The question is: What should I read to get a better grounding in the history of geology? My short answer has always been: Martin Rudwick. But of course that’s too quick, and while Rudwick is my Number One Guy, the literature on the history of geology includes many excellent offerings from many excellent scholars. So, again, what should you read?
To answer this question, I’ve put together a list of history of geology titles. My hope is that it will be useful to graduate students in (history and) philosophy of science, and perhaps to some practicing scientists as well.* Historians won’t need such a list, and anyway will probably regard my selections as hopelessly unfashionable. (Which is just to say, as Foucault once did, that I’m not a real historian; but then, nobody's perfect.)
[* If I can speak directly to graduate students in HPS: you should give the geosciences a look. The history and philosophy of the geosciences is a growth area, and one that’s already populated with some really wonderful people. So read on, why don’t ya? You might just find a dissertation topic…]
I’ve organized this reading list into seven sections. First I discuss The Essentials, the best of the best. Then come The Not-Quite Essentials— very good books that work well as entry points into the wider literature. After this are The Microhistories, where you’ll find some of my personal favorites, and the Best of the New(ish): a few of my favorite books published in the last five years or so. Later, in Part 2, I will go through some paleontology favorites (All About Paleontology), dust off some Oldies but Goodies, and consider a few Biographies. Each entry includes a one-sentence description of the book as well as a longer comment.
Happy reading!
The Essentials
To begin, here are the best of the best (or at any rate my personal favorites). To state the obvious: these are elitist, Eurocentric histories of geology. They are also heavily concerned with the period from about 1790 to 1850. A welcome trend in more recent scholarship is widening and softening this focus; foregrounding the entanglement of geology with extractive and imperial projects; and even self-consciously “weirding” (or making strange) Western scientific practices. Commendable developments! Still, I have a soft spot for the narrower elitist histories, with their unvarnished interest in the details and drama of the science. Here are a few of these. And remember, this is not just a list of my favorite books (although the list does contain a few of my favorite books). It’s a list of the books that I see as essential to gain a solid grounding in the history of geology.
Bursting the Limits of Time: The Reconstruction of Geohistory in the Age of Revolution. Martin J. S. Rudwick. 2005
* Episodic history of the emergence and consolidation of the sciences of geohistory during the last decades of the eighteenth and the first decades of the nineteenth century
This is probably the best book on the history of geology I’ve ever read. The cover blurb from Richard Fortey says it all:
To describe Rudwick as ‘scholarly’ is rather like describing Mozart as ‘musically talented.’ He is omniscient, and it’s greatly to be wished that this book becomes known beyond the ranks of historians of the recondite.
Indeed! Don’t let the length put you off.* Rudwick’s book is required reading for anyone interested in the consolidation of the sciences of geohistory. Masterful, erudite, and bursting with gorgeous illustrations (and wonderfully detailed explanatory captions), this one has it all. Just a remarkable, inspiring piece of scholarship.
[* Bursting the Limits of Time tips the scales at about 650 pages, not counting the references and index. But— I promise this is true— the book doesn’t feel its length. Rudwick’s most impressive trick was to write a 700 page book that feels like it could have been 1,400 pages. You get the impression that he might’ve said two or three times as much as he did on every subject. What he wrote was just what he needed to write to keep the narrative moving at a brisk pace. Omniscient indeed.]
Worlds Before Adam: The Reconstruction of Geohistory in the Age of Reform. Martin J. S. Rudwick. 2008
* The sequel to Bursting the Limits of Time, which continues the narrative into the middle decades of the nineteenth century
I’ve just called Bursting the Limits of Time “probably the best book on the history of geology I’ve ever read.” Now let me say that I prefer the sequel, Worlds Before Adam. Probably that is because I prefer the nineteenth century to the eighteenth; anyway, the two books are best regarded as a single piece of scholarship covering about fifty years, from 1790 to 1840. Incredibly, peerlessly, mind-numbingly good. Go read them!
The Earth on Show: Fossils and the Poetics of Popular Science, 1802–1856. Ralph O’Connor. 2007
* Nuanced study of the strategies British geologists employed to establish the cultural bona fides of their science during the first half of the nineteenth century
I suppose someone might quibble with my labeling of this book as “essential.” Maybe it’s too idiosyncratic to be required reading. Basically, it’s a book about how geologists marketed their science to various audiences and, ultimately, built its social acceptability and prestige during the first half of the nineteenth century. So, ya know, a bit niche. But it’s just so damn good. Seriously. It’s my favorite kind of book: the kind that could’ve only been written by one person, in this case, Ralph O’Connor. The University of Chicago Press describes it as “[an] innovative blend of the history of science, literary criticism, book history, and visual culture.” Yep! Again, don’t let the length scare you off— this one’s worth the effort. And it works beautifully as a supplement to Bursting the Limits of Time and Worlds Before Adam.*
[* An old Extinct post was inspired by this book. There I try to sic O’Connor’s favorite geologist, Hugh Miller, on Derek Turner’s “historical cognitivism.”]
Geology in the Nineteenth Century: Changing Views of a Changing World. Mott T. Greene. 1982
* Well-written survey of some major ideas in tectonic and structural geology during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries with an emphasis on mountain building
Perhaps my favorite book on the history of geology not written by Martin Rudwick, this one might’ve been called: Theories of Mountain Building in the Nineteenth Century. Never mind. It is a wonderfully lucid account of a problem that dominated geology for much of the eponymous century. For me, as a first time reader, the most striking feature of Greene’s account was the extent to which it sidelined (and even mildly disparaged) Charles Lyell. This estimable geologist, Greene argues, was simply not a heavyweight in the attempt to explain the major features of mountain ranges. To find such heavyweights, we need to look to Alpine geologists like Eduard Suess, as well as their American counterparts working in the Appalachian range. Greene’s title might over-promise (this is not a synoptic history of geology in the nineteenth century, it’s a history of tectonic thinking). But you can't understand nineteenth century geology without understanding the territory covered in this book.
[* In case anyone is interested: here is an old post where I attempt to adjudicate a dispute between Mott Greene and Celal Sengor concerning the question of whether Eduard Suess was “a Lyellian in his tectonic thinking.” And here is another post partly inspired by Greene’s work.]
Scenes from Deep Time: Early Pictorial Representations of the Prehistoric World. Martin J. S. Rudwick. 1992
* Pioneering account of the emergence of a new genre of visual representation— the “scene from deep time”— and its cultural preconditions in the nineteenth century
One more from Martin Rudwick: this one, the book that brought the visual culture of the earth sciences into historical focus.* Covering the birth of a genre (paleoart or “scenes from deep time), it’s less encyclopedic than the books I’ve just mentioned. But it’s no less monumental for this. The very definition of a history of science classic. And, at about 300 richly-illustrated pages, a fairly quick read!
[* Actually, it was a paper that did this, which appeared about fifteen years before the book: “The Emergence of a Visual Language for Geological Science 1760–1840” (Rudwick 1976). This is another must read.]
The Not-Quite Essentials (Or: Great Places to start)
In this section, I’ve listed two books that are frankly not as good as the ones I’ve just discussed. But certain readers might think these are better entry points into the historical literature than the titles in my Essentials category. You might think this if you are in the market for a synoptic treatment— especially Oldroyd’s book approximates this better than anything else on the list. So: if you want to begin by getting a lay of the land (albeit an elitist and Eurocentric one— we still lack a good global history of geology), these are my picks.
Thinking about the Earth: A History of Ideas in Geology. David Oldroyd. 1996
* Synoptic survey of some influential ideas and lines of thought in the earth sciences from antiquity to the late twentieth century
Unlike Greene’s book, this volume from David Oldroyd has the right title. It’s a history of ideas in geology with pretensions to comprehensiveness: from Aristotle to plate tectonics and beyond. It’s quite good for what it is— Oldroyd knows an enormous amount of geology and manages to inject nuance into even highly compressed descriptions. But the format is somewhat limiting. No topic is covered in much depth, and the coverage is (unavoidably) a bit uneven. Definitely a good one to have on your shelf, and also a good place to start if you’re new to the history of the earth sciences.
Earth’s Deep History: How it was Discovered and Why it Matters. Martin J. S. Rudwick. 2014
* Trade book on the emergence, consolidation, and flowering of the sciences of geohistory, covering the period from the seventeenth century to the present
Another good place to start is Rudwick’s final book, which functions as an extended abstract for Bursting the Limits of Time (BLT) and Worlds Before Adam (WBA). But it’s more than this. The book also covers the period before BLT and after WVA, making Earth’s Deep History a more comprehensive narrative than the one you’ll find in the two longer books (put together).
I first Earth’s Deep History before I had finished BLT. Later I reread it, having finished both BLT and WBA. Which experience was better? I honestly can’t say. The first was a useful orientation to Rudwick’s master narrative, the second a nice way of consolidating the glut of information I’d just digested. Probably I would recommend reading it after the two longer books; but realistically, you should read whatever you’re going to finish. If you want to read all three, the order doesn’t really matter. And if BLT and WBA are more than you want to chew, Earth’s Deep History will introduce you to most of Rudwick’s ideas in a fairly concise package.*
[* Read Joyce Havstaad’s thoughts on Earth’s Deep History here.]
The Microhistories
Let me tell you about a brief and incredible period of time when microhistories of geological controversies were all the rage. More specifically, let me tell you about the period from 1985 to 1990 when microhistories of early nineteenth century controversies in British stratigraphic geology were all the rage— controversies that all featured Roderick Murchison as a chief belligerent.*
[* Murchison is a Jane Austen character: a fox-hunting former military officer turned metropolitan savant and dignitary. His temper ran hot and his ego grew to geological proportions— so, basically, he was the ultimate geological shit-stirrer. (Sorry, James Hall.)]
I can’t recommend these books highly enough. If they didn’t make it into my “essential reading” bin, it’s only because I thought they warranted their own section. But at least the first two entries in this section are can't miss titles. These are the books by Rudwick and Secord.
The Great Devonian Controversy: The Shaping of Scientific Knowledge Among Gentlemanly Specialists. Martin J. S. Rudwick. 1985
* Blow-by-blow account of the Great Devonian Controversy and the wider debate over the role of fossils in stratigraphic practice
I’ve already spent enough time praising Rudwick, so let me just say that The Great Devonian Controversy is a masterful month-by-month (and in some parts, week-by-week) reconstruction of a major stratigraphic controversy, replete with gossip and intrigue. (If you don’t know this about me, I love gossip and intrigue.) It also contains some truly bonkers illustrations, hand-drawn by Rudwick himself and meant to show the contours of the controversy. A can’t miss history of geology banger. (Here is Joyce, again.)
Controversy in Victorian Geology: The Cambrian-Silurian Debate. James Secord. 1986
* Detailed account of the Cambrian-Silurian controversy and its intellectual and social background
Secord’s book is another microhistory centered on Roderick Murchison and his friend (turned bitter rival) Adam Sedgwick. Human drama abounds in this most acrimonious of stratigraphic controversies: the prolonged debate between Murchison and Sedgwick over the extent of the Silurian and Cambrian Systems. But that’s not the main attraction. In Secord’s hands, detailed reconstructions of fieldwork merge seamlessly with sensitive analyses of the general social background of British geology. It is a seriously impressive performance, and one that finds geologists grappling with a cluster of deep conceptual questions (e.g., what is the meaning of a “natural” stratigraphic boundary) while at the same time negotiating the very rules by which the geological game is played.
The Highlands Controversy: Constructing Geological Knowledge through Fieldwork in Nineteenth-Century Britain. David Oldroyd. 1990
* Detailed account of the Highlands Controversy with an emphasis on the role of fieldwork in structural interpretation and the professionalization of geology during the nineteenth century
A third microhistory involving Murchison as a key player? Why not? It's a proven strategy, and honestly, this one’s another winner. (Think Return of the Jedi as opposed to Jurassic Park III.) Thankfully, Oldroyd’s book features some new supporting characters, like Archibald Geikie, Charles Lapworth, and the super-best-friend duo of Benjamin Peach and John Horne. It also covers a broader span of time than either of its predecessors, stretching from the early nineteenth into the twentieth century. But in strategy, at least, it’s somewhat familiar. Let me be clear: I really enjoyed this book and learned a lot from it. But of the three microhistories I think this is the least. (Jedi has some of the best scenes in the whole trilogy, but the second act drags and Han and Leia spend most of the final battle just standing in front of a door…)
Can’t Get Enough?
“The Archean Controversy in Britain.” A series of papers by David Oldroyd. 1991–1994
Can’t get enough stratigraphic microhistories? I have exciting news! There’s actually a “bonus” microhistory, which never came together as a monograph, but which exists as a series of papers by David Oldroyd (author of The Highlands Controversy). These examine the “Archean controversy” in Britain, which concerned the placement of the Cambrian-Precambrian boundary.
Now, you’re probably asking yourself: was Roderick Murchison involved? To which the answer is: of course! But in this case a more important antagonist was Archibald Geikie, a Murchison acolyte and, like Murchison, a director of the British Geological Survey. Basically, you can think of the Archean controversy in the early going as a spin-off of the Cambrian-Silurian debate, or as a proxy war between the forces of Sedgwick (based at Cambridge) and and those of Murchison (at the Geological Survey).
These papers, I gather, are little known and little read— they are certainly little cited! But they are really good, and provide a useful supplement to Secord’s treatment of the Cambrian-Silurian debate. Read them if you can get behind the paywall!
“The Great Taconic Controversy.” A paper By Cecil J. Schneer. 1978
Finally, there’s this. A stratigraphic controversy that didn’t involve Murchison! And that played out mostly in the United States! This is the “Taconic controversy” and it involved a succession of rocks located mostly in New York and Vermont— rocks that one prominent American geologist claimed were the oldest fossiliferous rocks yet discovered. I’ve been wanting to write about this episode for ages, and some day I will. But there’s already a decent paper on it, written way back in 1978 by the American historian Cecil Schneer. (Actually, there are a number of papers on the Taconic controversy, but Schneer’s is the most synoptic.) It doesn’t achieve the depth of the aforementioned histories, and in fact isn’t really a “microhistory” at all. But it’s a nice treatment of a good ol’ Yankee brouhaha.
BEST OF THE NEW(ISH)
Catastrophic Thinking: Extinction and the Value of Diversity from Darwin to the Anthropocene. David Sepkoski. 2020
* Panoramic exploration of the bidirectional shaping of science by cultural values and anxieties, and of cultural values and anxieties by science, focused on the phenomenon of (mass) extinction
Many of you probably know about David Sepkoski’s excellent study of the “paleobiological revolution” (of which, more in Part 2). But his more recent book is just as compelling. Its subtitle promises a study ranging “from Darwin to the Anthropocene,” but Sepkoski actually begins before Darwin, with figures like Linnaeus and Cuvier, while also dedicating lots of space to Extinct fave Charles Lyell. The book is especially strong on the Cold War Period, when extinction anxiety was at the forefront of the public consciousness in the U.S. But the discussions of the Victorian period and early twentieth century are compelling too, as is his detailed account of how the “biodiversity crisis” narrative came together near the end of the twentieth century. You can read my review of this book in Metascience if you can find it! (It’s very positive, and not just because David was nice enough to serve on my dissertation committee.)*
[* Also, here is an Extinct post from T. J. Perkins which uses Sepkoski’s book as a jumping-off point.]
Assembling the Dinosaur: Fossil Hunters, Tycoons, and the Making of a Spectacle. Lukas Rieppel. 2019
* [Can’t beat the publisher’s description] A lively account of how dinosaurs became a symbol of American power and prosperity and gripped the popular imagination during the Gilded Age, when their fossil remains were collected and displayed in museums financed by North America’s wealthiest business tycoons
This is another wonderful book on the history of paleontology, which is especially concerned with the relationship between vertebrate paleontology and Gilded Age capitalism. These entities intersected in a number of ways and in a variety of places, but an especially important one was the philanthropically-funded natural history museum (which, Rieppel nicely shows, aped contemporary corporate management practices). There’s lots to like here, including a nuanced discussion of the tensions that arose between the public desire for spectacle (think dramatic museum displays) and the scientists’ desire to maintain authenticity (while also maintaining all-important patronage networks). Rieppel even argues that the titans of the age used dinosaur paleontology to provide a naturalistic justification of their own practices— just not in the way you might have thought.*
[* Here is Lukas’s Extinct post from way back in 2016.]
How the New World Became Old: The Deep Time Revolution in America. Caroline Winterer. 2024
* Brand new attempt to trace the course of the “deep time revolution” in America, which covers more than a hundred years
I’ve been meaning to write something about this book, which I read almost as soon as it came out. (I’ll probably try to review it somewhere— if you’re the kind of person who commissions these things, contact me!) Anyway, despite some tiny complaints, I really enjoyed it. A particular highlight was its exploration of the geological work of Samuel George Morton, who is now better remembered as the author of a racist volume, Crania Americana. There are also nice discussions of research into the earliest life forms, glacial geology in North America, and paleoanthropology (to name just a few of my favorite parts). The book is beautifully illustrated. Seriously. It’s worth the purchase price just for the images, of which there are many. It also bears mentioning that the book is written more like a trade book than a technical monograph, which makes it very enjoyable reading.
That’s all for now. Part 2 will be coming at ya soon…