PD Smith

Shish-kebab with a spud

Times Lit­er­ary Sup­ple­ment, August 15, 2008

Cham­bers Dic­tio­nary of Sci­ence and Tech­nol­o­gy, Gen­er­al Edi­tor, John Lack­ie (Cham­bers), 1376 pp. £35. ISBN: 978‑0550-10071–9

By PD Smith

The Cham­bers Dic­tio­nary of Sci­ence and Tech­nol­o­gy is an immense­ly impres­sive and author­i­ta­tive work. First pub­lished in 1940, restyled the Larousse Dic­tio­nary of Sci­ence and Tech­nol­o­gy in the 1990s, and now ful­ly revised and updat­ed, it con­tains more than 50,000 entries on over 40 sub­ject areas, rang­ing from Acoustics to Vet­eri­nary Sci­ence. ChambersAlong with mol­e­c­u­lar biol­o­gy, infor­ma­tion tech­nol­o­gy is one of the major growth areas for new entries (or “head­words”) and some 2,000 have been added. Gen­er­al edi­tor Dr John Lack­ie, a cell biol­o­gist, has also insti­gat­ed some tax­o­nom­ic changes. For instance, botany, zool­o­gy, biol­o­gy, immunol­o­gy, genet­ics and virol­o­gy have been sub­sumed into one sub­ject field: Bio­Science. Anoth­er new cat­e­go­ry is Psy­chol­o­gy, which absorbs some entries pre­vi­ous­ly labelled Behav­iour, as well as gain­ing many new entries. After all, says Lack­ie some­what defen­sive­ly, it is “one of the most pop­u­lar sub­jects at both school and uni­ver­si­ty lev­el”. Stu­dents of psy­chol­o­gy will no doubt wel­come entries on “penis envy”, “Oedi­pus com­plex” and “anal char­ac­ter”, although may be dis­ap­point­ed not to find one on the mir­ror stage. Jacques Lacan is, it seems, not quite sci­en­tif­ic enough.

In con­trast, the Oxford Dic­tio­nary of Sci­ence (fifth edi­tion, 2005) turns up its nose even at Freudi­an ref­er­ences. You’ll find a “psy­chrom­e­ter” here (an instru­ment for mea­sur­ing the humid­i­ty of the air), but no “psy­chol­o­gy”, let alone “psy­cho­analy­sis”. So full marks to Cham­bers for inclu­sive­ness. Of course, the com­par­i­son is a lit­tle unfair. The Oxford Dic­tio­nary has a mere 9,000 entries. Nev­er­the­less, in some respects Oxford’s David is, in fact, supe­ri­or to the Cham­bers Goliath. The for­mer includes bio­graph­i­cal entries on sci­en­tists such as Albert Ein­stein. Its entries also tend to be more ful­some, par­tic­u­lar­ly as regards his­tor­i­cal con­text. So where­as both dic­tio­nar­ies note that the radioac­tive ele­ment ein­steini­um (Es) is arti­fi­cial, being cre­at­ed by bom­bard­ment in a cyclotron or the fiery hearts of explod­ing hydro­gen bombs, only the Oxford Dic­tio­nary tells you who first iden­ti­fied it (Albert Ghior­so) and when (1952). Unfor­tu­nate­ly, the Cham­bers Dic­tio­nary also seems to have got into a mud­dle with its iso­topes, sug­gest­ing that einsteinium’s most long-lived iso­tope, 254Es, has “a half-life of greater than 2 years”, where­as it is about 270 days. Inter­est­ing­ly, the Lawrence Berke­ley Nation­al Lab­o­ra­to­ry also lists iso­tope 252 as hav­ing an even longer half-life of 471 days, a fact duly not­ed by the Wikipedia entry on ein­steini­um.

Minor errors aside, it is clear that the Cham­bers Dic­tio­nary cov­ers a remark­ably broad range of sub­jects. His­tor­i­cal con­text has been sac­ri­ficed in favour of suc­cinct def­i­n­i­tions, a no doubt essen­tial space-sav­ing deci­sion for a sin­gle-vol­ume edi­tion which is already 7 cm thick. Cer­tain key sub­jects are, how­ev­er, dealt with in greater depth. These so-called “pan­el” entries range from half a page on “crit­i­cal mass” (the min­i­mum size of fis­sion­able iso­tope which will sus­tain a chain reac­tion), to two pages on “quan­tum the­o­ry”. There are near­ly 100 of these pan­els. Although there are no bio­graph­i­cal entries, the Cham­bers Dic­tio­nary includes tech­nol­o­gy – every­thing from cut­ting-edge Big Broth­er tech­nolo­gies such as RFIDs (Radio-Fre­quen­cy Iden­ti­fi­ca­tion Devices, minute elec­tron­ic tags that can be read remote­ly by radio), to the cobalt bomb, an H‑bomb encased in cobalt that could the­o­ret­i­cal­ly spread fall-out around the entire plan­et, and SDI (aka Star Wars), the Rea­gan-era plan for space-based weapons sys­tems.

Cold war nuclear night­mares aside, some post‑9/11 tech­nolo­gies of mass destruc­tion are absent, such as “dirty bomb” or the more gen­er­al “radi­o­log­i­cal weapon”. You’ll also search in vain for an entry on the “psilo­phyte”, the sim­plest plants with vas­cu­lar tis­sues (includ­ed in Penguin’s Desk Ency­clo­pe­dia of Sci­ence and Math­e­mat­ics, 2000), or even “psilo­cy­bin”, the hal­lu­cino­genic alka­loid found in the lib­er­ty cap toad­stool, iden­ti­fied in the 1950s. More sur­pris­ing­ly, there’s no entry on glob­al warm­ing, although there is one on the “green­house effect” and a pan­el devot­ed to the gen­er­al top­ic of “cli­mat­ic change”. After con­sid­er­ing nat­ur­al pat­terns of change, this con­cludes with a rather grudg­ing com­ment about our impact on the cli­mate: “There is increas­ing spec­u­la­tion at the present time whether human activ­i­ty asso­ci­at­ed with rapid­ly increas­ing pop­u­la­tion, indus­tri­al­iza­tion, defor­esta­tion and inten­sive agri­cul­ture may affect the cli­mate on a glob­al scale.” The con­ser­vatism of this state­ment is unlike­ly to impress eco-war­riors.

Despite such quib­bles, in its 1330 pages the Cham­bers Dic­tio­nary has more than enough fas­ci­nat­ing infor­ma­tion to sat­is­fy even the most dis­cern­ing tech­no­log­i­cal fact-junky or sci­en­tif­ic Grad­grind. Every page con­tains some intrigu­ing new word or con­cept. “Lon­don-shrunk”, for instance, is not some obscure met­ro­pol­i­tan dis­ease, but rather a term from the woollen trade denot­ing a pre-shrunk item. A “nib­ble” in infor­ma­tion tech­nol­o­gy has lit­tle to do with eat­ing, aside from the fact that it refers to mouse-sized bites, or to be pre­cise, half a byte or a group of 4 bits. Per­haps you feel like a nib­bling a “Shish-kebab”? But did you know that in the realm of plas­tics this denotes a poly­mer microstruc­ture in which lamel­lae (plate-like struc­tures) form at right angles to an ori­ent­ed fib­ril (a bun­dle of aligned plates), strung out along it at reg­u­lar inter­vals like the epony­mous Mid­dle East­ern food. And while we are talk­ing food, “spud” is not just a pro­pi­tious escu­lent but a min­ing term that means to begin well-drilling oper­a­tions. In short, this weighty tome is a must-have addi­tion to the library of any sci­ence buff, fact check­er, word lover, or wannabe con­tes­tant of Uni­ver­si­ty Chal­lenge.