The Botany of Desire, by Michael Pollan
Subtitle: A Plant's-Eye View of the World
Michael Pollan, now best known for his later book "The Omnivore's Dilemma", wrote this book (published in 2001) in four parts, corresponding to the applies, tulips, marijuana, and potatoes. His basic thesis is this: because we have made conscious (and subconscious) attempts to control their characteristics by means of breeding and selection, we have the idea that we have molded and controlled these plants, but we are at best only half-correct in that. Because of strong evolutionary pressures to best get us to do their bidding (plant their seeds, clear away competitors, bring fertilizer, etc.), these plants have in fact become expert at appealing to one or more of our desires. Essentially, because we have lived with these plants for so many generations, they are as adept at manipulating us as we are at manipulating them.
The section on apples is dominated by the historical figure of John Chapman, better known as Johnny Appleseed. More real estate speculator and purveyor of homebrewing raw materials, than the saccharine figure of later tales, Chapman was one of the men most responsible for adapting the apple tree varieties brought from Eurasia, to the very different climate(s) and soil(s) of North America. One thing I learned from this section was that the sweetening of apple varieties over the last two hundred years was even more extreme than I had known. Most of what Chapman planted were what Pollan says were called "spitters", apples good for making hard cider but not for eating. Pollan goes to a sort of Noah's Ark of apple varieties, where scores of now-rare varieties are still grown, and is amazed at the diversity. Over the last ten generations or so, we have pushed the apple relentlessly in the direction of sweetness, or (as Pollan would have it) the apple has moved that way to lure us into doing ever more work for it. One wonders, though, if this hasn't led to a certain sameness, like actresses on TV all looking too similar because they went to the same plastic surgeon. It is a theme that comes up in every section.
The section on tulips is, of course, dominated by The Great Tulip Bubble, perhaps the strangest financial bubble in the history of finance. Whereas the apple appeals to our tastebuds, the tulip appeals to our eyes. Pollan tries to explain here how the tulip's beauty is Appolonian, as opposed to the Dionysian appeal of a rose, but I think he may have been pushing that point a bit beyond what it warranted. Nonetheless, the tale of how the brightly colored, and physically large, tulip appealed to our thirst for More!Color!Everywhere! is entertaining. I wonder why The Great Tulip Bubble is not a commonly told tale in children's books; it might teach lessons as useful as the Boy Who Cried Wolf or Little Red Riding Hood.
The section on marijuana includes an entertainingly incompetent tale of Pollan growing a little bit himself, as well as the sage advice that reading Richard Dawkins "The Selfish Gene" stoned isn't necessarily wise. He surveys the broad history of humans using plant-derived substances to alter our consciousness, and gives a more in-depth view of what the last couple decades of the 20th century did to accelerate its march towards higher and higher potency. He visits a grower in the vicinity of Amsterdam, to see just how far from their weedy origins some growers have taken them. It is a foreshadowing of the final section, where we take on the uncomfortable issue of GMO's.
The last section, on potatoes, has a bit of history, including of course the Irish famine of the mid-19th century. Pollan gets some samples of GMO-optimized potatoes from Monsanto, and plants them in his own garden. He does a credible job of attempting to be even-handed in his treatment of the issue of GMO's, despite his evident instinctive aversion to the idea. In the end, they grow well, and he is unable to bring himself to either eat them or serve them to others. Also, in this section, Pollan shows a bit of foresight that he has not crowed about since then as much as he could have. He mentions, years before it happened, that the development of strains of plant that are immune to Roundup (a herbicide also sold by Monsanto), could result in wild plants being pushed into developing more resistance to that very herbicide. The book was published in 2001, and it wasn't until 2011 that I first read of the problem. If it has soured Monsanto on the idea of GMO's, I have not heard of it, but the fact that Pollan (who is not a scientist) was able to see the risk when Monsanto was sure it wouldn't happen, suggests both that Pollan understands well the basic principles of natural and artificial selection, and also that Monsanto got this one wrong not because it was too hard to see, but because they didn't want to believe it.
All in all, Pollan's book was equal parts fun and thought-provoking.
Michael Pollan, now best known for his later book "The Omnivore's Dilemma", wrote this book (published in 2001) in four parts, corresponding to the applies, tulips, marijuana, and potatoes. His basic thesis is this: because we have made conscious (and subconscious) attempts to control their characteristics by means of breeding and selection, we have the idea that we have molded and controlled these plants, but we are at best only half-correct in that. Because of strong evolutionary pressures to best get us to do their bidding (plant their seeds, clear away competitors, bring fertilizer, etc.), these plants have in fact become expert at appealing to one or more of our desires. Essentially, because we have lived with these plants for so many generations, they are as adept at manipulating us as we are at manipulating them.
The section on apples is dominated by the historical figure of John Chapman, better known as Johnny Appleseed. More real estate speculator and purveyor of homebrewing raw materials, than the saccharine figure of later tales, Chapman was one of the men most responsible for adapting the apple tree varieties brought from Eurasia, to the very different climate(s) and soil(s) of North America. One thing I learned from this section was that the sweetening of apple varieties over the last two hundred years was even more extreme than I had known. Most of what Chapman planted were what Pollan says were called "spitters", apples good for making hard cider but not for eating. Pollan goes to a sort of Noah's Ark of apple varieties, where scores of now-rare varieties are still grown, and is amazed at the diversity. Over the last ten generations or so, we have pushed the apple relentlessly in the direction of sweetness, or (as Pollan would have it) the apple has moved that way to lure us into doing ever more work for it. One wonders, though, if this hasn't led to a certain sameness, like actresses on TV all looking too similar because they went to the same plastic surgeon. It is a theme that comes up in every section.
The section on tulips is, of course, dominated by The Great Tulip Bubble, perhaps the strangest financial bubble in the history of finance. Whereas the apple appeals to our tastebuds, the tulip appeals to our eyes. Pollan tries to explain here how the tulip's beauty is Appolonian, as opposed to the Dionysian appeal of a rose, but I think he may have been pushing that point a bit beyond what it warranted. Nonetheless, the tale of how the brightly colored, and physically large, tulip appealed to our thirst for More!Color!Everywhere! is entertaining. I wonder why The Great Tulip Bubble is not a commonly told tale in children's books; it might teach lessons as useful as the Boy Who Cried Wolf or Little Red Riding Hood.
The section on marijuana includes an entertainingly incompetent tale of Pollan growing a little bit himself, as well as the sage advice that reading Richard Dawkins "The Selfish Gene" stoned isn't necessarily wise. He surveys the broad history of humans using plant-derived substances to alter our consciousness, and gives a more in-depth view of what the last couple decades of the 20th century did to accelerate its march towards higher and higher potency. He visits a grower in the vicinity of Amsterdam, to see just how far from their weedy origins some growers have taken them. It is a foreshadowing of the final section, where we take on the uncomfortable issue of GMO's.
The last section, on potatoes, has a bit of history, including of course the Irish famine of the mid-19th century. Pollan gets some samples of GMO-optimized potatoes from Monsanto, and plants them in his own garden. He does a credible job of attempting to be even-handed in his treatment of the issue of GMO's, despite his evident instinctive aversion to the idea. In the end, they grow well, and he is unable to bring himself to either eat them or serve them to others. Also, in this section, Pollan shows a bit of foresight that he has not crowed about since then as much as he could have. He mentions, years before it happened, that the development of strains of plant that are immune to Roundup (a herbicide also sold by Monsanto), could result in wild plants being pushed into developing more resistance to that very herbicide. The book was published in 2001, and it wasn't until 2011 that I first read of the problem. If it has soured Monsanto on the idea of GMO's, I have not heard of it, but the fact that Pollan (who is not a scientist) was able to see the risk when Monsanto was sure it wouldn't happen, suggests both that Pollan understands well the basic principles of natural and artificial selection, and also that Monsanto got this one wrong not because it was too hard to see, but because they didn't want to believe it.
All in all, Pollan's book was equal parts fun and thought-provoking.