Here we have the tale of the 1854 cholera outbreak in London. A silent killer is out there, generally freaking people out. Microbiology has yet to exist, so it’s a story of man versus mystery. Two men actually, who start out independently and eventually come to know and respect each other. And it’s a story of science, with all its contentious fits and starts and stumbles in the general direction of progress. And it’s also the story of society, at once enthusiastic and fearful of the magnificient beast they’ve brought to the planet: the modern city.
Compared with the other two Steven Johnson books I read, this one was my least favorite. I originally gave it a 3–but I’ve grown to like it more and more as I’ve thought about the ideas inside.
I think one of the best/worst things about Johnson’s writing is that he can suggest a tantalizing idea, and then carry on with his main argument as if nothing ever happened. Every so often in The Ghost Map he’ll turn a delightful aside, a flash of brilliance… oh, then continue on talking about excrement and miasma and pumps and drainage systems. Many of these nuggets are pretty clearly beyond the scope of the book, but they’re so good, I’d love to see some follow-up. I love it when a book can set me off enthusiastically on new investigations, perhaps unrelated to the book itself. And it’s in this area where The Ghost Map shines. A few examples that I’m still mulling over…
In talking about the history of ideas and the struggle involved in paradigm shifts, we face the recurring questions:
How could so many intelligent people be so grievously wrong for such an extended period of time? How could they ignore so much overwhelming evidence that contradicted their most basic theories? These questions, too, deserve their own discipline–the sociology of error.1
I love the idea of a “sociology of error.” I like the combination of individual psychology and basic cost-benefit decisions (e.g. “Can I still get funding if I promote this dangerous concept?”), with the idea of groupthink. This makes me think of praxeology in the Austrian tradition. There have to be some fundamental traits for how we select and endorse ideas, right?
When discussing one the challenges of epidemiology–its generally undocumented nature–Johnson suggests a contrast: “Most world-historic events–great military battles, political revolutions–are self-consciously historic to participants living through them.”2 I think the idea of “self-conscious history” could explain a lot in modern politics and economics. Surely this self-consciousness affects decision making, introducing an element of chutzpah that’s largely absent from everyday life. Maybe this leads to a kind of semiotics for events, how they are perceived, communicated, and given response.
Lastly, Johnson’s last quarter of the book is circles around the “triumph of urbanism.”3 You can see some of his current work peeking out here–recently manifested in his writing about the Long Zoom, the web service outside.in, and his new column Urban Planet ($). I don’t think I’m as optimistic as Johnson is about urban society (probably because I’m more politically cynical), but there are some cool thoughts about the metropolis providing a critical mass of local knowledge, expertise, spontaneity, economies of scale, etc.
Hm. There’s a lot of food for thought here. It’s a keeper.
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Footnotes, for those following along at home.
1. page 15, more on 126
2. page 32
3. page 203
Mark Larson 