The Ice Finders: How a Poet, a Professor, and a Politician Discovered the Ice Age by Edmund Blair Bolles, COUNTERPOINT, $24, 255 pages.
The News & Observer
March 26, 2000
Giving the Ice Age the cold shoulder
By Phillip Manning
Behind the orderly progress of science lies a bruising political
process in which scientists battle one another to get their ideas
accepted. This is because most scientists have a vested interest
in some big idea about how the universe works. If, for example,
you have devoted your career to showing how the sun moves around
the Earth, you would not embrace a new theory that the Earth revolves
around the sun. In fact, because it would invalidate your life's
work, you would fight the new idea tooth and nail. And because
scientists' reputations are based on their discoveries, the theory's
proponent would fight just as hard to get it accepted - and be
credited with that discovery.
In "The Ice Finders," Edmund Bolles, the author of numerous
books, tells the fascinating story of a big idea that is common
knowledge today but that was hotly contested 150 years ago: The
Ice Age. The story begins in the 1830s, when the young and ambitious
geologist Louis Agassiz moved from Paris back to his native Switzerland
and began studying the small glaciers of the Alps. He knew that
as glaciers moved, they pushed moraines (piles of stones and rubble)
in front of them and carried boulders on top. He noticed that
they scratched and polished the rock beneath them. He began to
associate these observations with three previously unconnected
facts. First, moraines were scattered throughout Europe, even
in deep valleys, far from any glaciers. Second, boulders from
Scandinavia littered the German plains. And, finally, polished,
scratched rocks could be found in Scotland, where no glaciers
existed.
Agassiz then took a tremendous leap. He said these phenomena could
be explained if one accepted the fantastic notion that a huge
sheet of ice once extended from the North Pole to the Mediterranean
Sea. Some scientists accepted that the motion of glaciers could
explain the geological phenomena, but they found the concept of
a super glacier massive enough to do it unbelievable. Agassiz's
chief nemesis was the 19th century's most influential and politically
savvy geologist, Scotsman Charles Lyell. Lyell believed that the
Earth was shaped by the forces we see around us today. His "Principles
of Geology" - which was one of the few books that Charles
Darwin took with him on the HMS Beagle - suggested that earthquakes,
floods and icebergs might account for these phenomena. He did
not even mention glaciers because those in Europe were small and
uncommon.
Agassiz presented his Ice Age theory at the 1837 meeting of the
Swiss Society of Natural Sciences. It was the kind of gathering
that is all too familiar to working scientists, albeit a bit more
ill-mannered. Agassiz recited his facts, then concluded: "I
have no doubts that the phenomena attributed to great diluvial
currents have been produced by ice." The audience, most of
whom were Lyell's followers, scoffed at Agassiz's theory. "It
turned so vehement," Bolles writes, "that some observers
feared the introduction of fisticuffs."
Lyell and his disciples had too much invested in a geology that
excluded glaciers to accept the facts marshaled by Agassiz. They
believed that all geological phenomena could be explained by events
they could observe, and the concept of big ice, of immense glaciers
that dwarfed those of present-day Europe, was too much for these
men of science to swallow. Their reaction to Agassiz's theory
isn't surprising: It required a great conceptual leap to imagine
that the continent on which they lived so comfortably was once
was covered by a gigantic sheet of ice. The ability to make such
leaps is a characteristic of genius, and like those scientists
who scoffed at Agassiz, few of us have it. Agassiz left the meeting
a resentful but wiser man. He needed something besides facts to
convince the scientific world of the rightness of his ideas. That
something came several years later from an unlikely source, an
American explorer with a poetic bent named Elisha Kent Kane.
In 1853, Kane sailed north from Newfoundland for Greenland, searching
for an earlier Arctic expedition that had failed to return. Unfortunately,
Kane was inexperienced about the far North. His ship became locked
in ice off the vast and largely unexplored Greenland coast, and
his party spent two terrible winters there before Kane and a few
other survivors made it back to the United States. With them came
Kane's journals and their descriptions of big ice.
Much of Greenland, he wrote, was covered with a sheet of ice a
thousand feet thick, and its glaciers bear little resemblance
to the polite little rivers of ice of Europe. One glacier he saw
"was a plastic, semi-solid mass, obliterating life, swallowing
rocks and islands, and ploughing its way with irresistible march."
Kane's hardships in Greenland ruined his health, and he died a
few years later. But his writings and drawings made the Ice Age
that Agassiz had proposed a palpable reality.
Agassiz, by then a celebrated professor of natural science at
Harvard, was finally vindicated. But Lyell, ever the politician,
scooped him; he immediately published a new book. In it, Lyell
acknowledged that an Ice Age had occurred, but he showed that
some of Agassiz's original speculations about its effects were
wrong. By making Agassiz's errors sound more important than his
contributions, the politician won the day again, leaving Agassiz
to write bitter letters about the injustice of it all. That result
will surprise no one familiar with how science works. Eventually,
the truth will win out, but often its discoverer doesn't get the
proper credit. In this well-written book, Bolles sets the record
straight and gives Agassiz the recognition he deserves.
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