Tom Shachtman

Absolute Zero is a fascinating popular history of research into cold, from Francis Bacon through the present day, with a climax around the liquification of helium by Dutch physicist Heike Kamerlingh Onnes. Popular in the sense that Shachtman avoids equations and a historical perspective, this book is comprehensive and enjoyable.

As Shachtman notes, cold presents an unusual negation of phenomenon for early physicists. Unlike light, sound, motion, or heat, cold is an absence. Francis Bacon, the show more proto-experimentalist, died of pneumonia after an impromptu test to see if snow could preserve chicken (yes), and after that the study of cold languished for centuries, a mere adjunct to the more important measurement of temperature.

The dominant caloric theory of the 18th century was intuitively satisfying, but its invocation of a ineffable and non-existent heat bearing fluid model the emerging technology of steam engines, or the mechanical production of cold by gas expansion. As physicists experimented with cold, they proved that gases could transform to new phases of matter at low temperatures and above atmospheric pressure. Carbon dioxide, nitrogen, oxygen, hydrogen, and finally helium were all liquified.

Onnes was the first to liquify helium, and the first to note the astonish property of low temperature superconductivity in mercury and a host of other substances, as well as the superfluid behavior of liquid helium. Low temperatures proved an experimental bridge between classical physics and the new quantum physics, where at low temperatures macro-scale objects that could be manipulated in the lab exhibited properties only explainable by quantum effects.

Today, commercial refrigeration and air conditioning are so commonplace as to be entirely unremarkable, but cold was once cutting edge, and this book captures the romance of the quest for absolute zero. show less

In Dead Center we get to learn about a part of society that most of us probably don’t think about very much – what happens to our bodies when we die. This could be a very morbid or gruesome topic, but the author focuses on a variety of things other than the gore. First, we learn about what challenges face MLI’s (medicological investigators), including everything from identifying cause of death to interacting compassionately with grieving families. We also learn what characteristics show more make a good MLI. Next, there are stories ranging from the funny or bizarre to the emotional and moving – a recap of some of the author’s most interesting experiences. And finally, we hear about the author’s biggest challenge working as an MLI in charge of identifying all remains found at Ground Zero – a process that took over 4 years.

So, as I said, this could have been horrible and gruesome, but it definitely wasn’t. I wouldn’t recommend it to someone who is unusually squeamish, since an autopsy and the results of 9/11 on the victims’ bodies are both described. However, these details are described tactfully and for someone of normal sensitivity, I believe that they’re moving but bearable. The author’s training mixing compassion for families with professional detachment lends itself to the perfect tone for this book. He never seems callous. Rather, he takes his responsibilities to the families of the dead quite seriously despite focusing somewhat on his professional concerns in the wake of a disaster.

I found this book to be a fascinating look at a facet of life we largely take for granted. Like the people who create our food, the people who handle death are an overlooked industry. Part of why I love non-fiction is the ability to explore these sort of experiences that I wouldn’t encounter otherwise. Many of the stories he shares are moving and some are even funny (often those that end up not involving a dead person after all). His tone is that of a friend telling you about his interesting job experiences. The many stories are only connected by a loose chronological ordering, but they flow smoothly together. Interwoven with these interesting and emotional stories are the author’s musings on the place of his profession in society, their relation to law enforcement, and other philosophical issues. For me, this changed the book from just a parade of stories for the observing reader to an engaging and educational book which made me aware of societal concerns I was previously ignorant of. This made for both an interesting and an informative read.

This review first published on Doing Dewey. show less

In Dead Center we get to learn about a part of society that most of us probably don’t think about very much – what happens to our bodies when we die. This could be a very morbid or gruesome topic, but the author focuses on a variety of things other than the gore. First, we learn about what challenges face MLI’s (medicological investigators), including everything from identifying cause of death to interacting compassionately with grieving families. We also learn what characteristics show more make a good MLI. Next, there are stories ranging from the funny or bizarre to the emotional and moving – a recap of some of the author’s most interesting experiences. And finally, we hear about the author’s biggest challenge working as an MLI in charge of identifying all remains found at Ground Zero – a process that took over 4 years.

So, as I said, this could have been horrible and gruesome, but it definitely wasn’t. I wouldn’t recommend it to someone who is unusually squeamish, since an autopsy and the results of 9/11 on the victims’ bodies are both described. However, these details are described tactfully and for someone of normal sensitivity, I believe that they’re moving but bearable. The author’s training mixing compassion for families with professional detachment lends itself to the perfect tone for this book. He never seems callous. Rather, he takes his responsibilities to the families of the dead quite seriously despite focusing somewhat on his professional concerns in the wake of a disaster.

I found this book to be a fascinating look at a facet of life we largely take for granted. Like the people who create our food, the people who handle death are an overlooked industry. Part of why I love non-fiction is the ability to explore these sort of experiences that I wouldn’t encounter otherwise. Many of the stories he shares are moving and some are even funny (often those that end up not involving a dead person after all). His tone is that of a friend telling you about his interesting job experiences. The many stories are only connected by a loose chronological ordering, but they flow smoothly together. Interwoven with these interesting and emotional stories are the author’s musings on the place of his profession in society, their relation to law enforcement, and other philosophical issues. For me, this changed the book from just a parade of stories for the observing reader to an engaging and educational book which made me aware of societal concerns I was previously ignorant of. This made for both an interesting and an informative read.

This review first published on Doing Dewey. show less

Robert Ressler was one of the first profilers in the FBI's Behavioral Science Unit. He was the one to coin the term 'serial killer', and his work interviewing mass murderers and serial killers has been seminal in learning more about how their minds work, and how to catch them.

Unlike Mind Hunter, the strength of this book really lies in the organization. Ressler deals with different aspects of killers' psyche, including childhood warning signs and even staging crimes. It's very interesting show more to see Ressler explain how he arrives at certain characteristics in his profiles. However, Ressler's account suffers from a distinct lack of the dramatic. While he describes several of the same cases as John Douglas, they are described less graphically and we never get a sense of Ressler's personal involvement or the stakes in an ongoing investigation. Including more of the cases he was actively profiling would have made the book more interesting.

Where Douglas came across as hogging the limelight, Ressler made it very clear that his was part of a team effort. He takes pains to give credit to local law enforcement, professional mental health professionals, and on occasion even a psychic. Personally, I found this approach more palatable. Like Douglas, Ressler has some very decided opinions on the death penalty, bureaucracy, and therapists. But in Ressler's case, it didn't bother me. This may have been because his views aligned more closely with my own, but I think it had more to do with his tone.

Ressler never lets us forget that these men are not likeable despite the rapport he has built with them. Even their friendliness is a form of manipulation and control. Nowhere is this more evident than in his discussions with Ed Kemper, the very serial killer Douglas professed to admire. In his account, Ressler describes the graphic (and smiling) threats of violence Kemper made, essentially to watch Ressler squirm. Even behind bars these killers are still dangerous both to those who study them, and on account of those who emulate them and focus on them as celebrities.

This was definitely interesting, but what I've really been looking for is a mix between this book and Mind Hunter - Ressler's less cocky tone with Douglas flair for dramatic narration. Anybody know of one?

Also posted at my blog show less