Under The Microscope

CARL SAGAN -- A LIFE, by Keay Davidson; John Wiley & Sons; 540pp; $56.95.

Reviewed by Andy Reisinger

In an age where even newsreaders can attain celebrity status, a celebrity scientist may not seem such an amazing thing. Yet few scientists achieve popular fame and fortune -- most tend to hide in their research corners, are evasive and cautious in their exchanges with the media, make no outrageous claims unless they are absolutely sure about their truth, and are perceived as being difficult to talk to at a party.

Carl Sagan broke all those rules, and in return became the most popularly celebrated scientist in the United States, and possibly anywhere, in this century. For more than two decades he was the household name for astronomy, space exploration, and the search for intelligent life in the universe. His television series Cosmos had an estimated 500 million viewers world-wide. His books on astronomy, the human brain, and science as the royal road to truth inspired a generation of young people to become scientists.

Sagan authored the multi-million dollar movie Contact, mingled with the Dalai Lama and the Pope, and was one of the most decisive critics of the United States' nuclear weapons program. When Carl Sagan died in 1996, the New York Times ran his photo on the front page, and his memorial service was attended by vice-president Al Gore.

American science writer Keay Davidson compiled an incredible wealth of interviews to look into and understand this dazzling career. His biography does an extraordinary job in discussing both the scientific work that earned Sagan respect by his peers and the public face which brought science to the masses.

But he also manages to penetrate the media spotlight to the darker sides of Sagan's character, which may be politely described as a self-obsessed ego that was only happy at the exclusive centre of attention. Sagan's work as scientist and popular author led to many collaborations with other experts, from astrophysicists to movie makers, but few people managed to develop lasting friendships. Sooner or later his co-workers realised that they would ever only be minor planets in a Sagan-centred universe.

Davidson's meticulously researched biography is very fact-driven. He does not attempt to condense Sagan into either the media-hungry egomaniac or the messiah who brought science to the millions, even if this makes his account of Sagan's life story occasionally somewhat disjointed. Nonetheless I enjoyed reading this biography -- not just because it tells you how to become a millionaire writing and talking about science. Some of the controversies surrounding Sagan exemplify general issues of scientific work and its perception by the media and the wider society.

I found it particularly interesting that Sagan was at times strongly criticised and even despised by some of his scientific peers, while his lucid and imaginative popular works gained almost unanimous applause. In part this was certainly simple envy on the side of his less extrovert colleagues. If anybody in the media had a question related to astronomy, they asked Dr Sagan, who unfailingly presented them with an authoritative yet exciting answer, whether it be on the history of the planets, the future of NASA's space programme, the possibility of space travel, or the existence of extraterrestrial intelligence. Thus Sagan's colleagues saw him gaining fame and fortune by representing singlehandedly the results of what inevitably had been a team effort. But the charge of unscientific populism which was brought against Sagan also had deeper roots.

Carl Sagan never missed a chance to add speculation to the presentation of scientific facts. Even in serious astronomical journals Sagan mused about the possibility of actively changing the Venusian atmosphere to make it habitable for humans, or about the existence of strange

balloon-shaped animals that might float through Jupiter's clouds. His search for extraterrestrial intelligence was ultimately driven by the unbelievably naieve hope that hyper-intelligent beings might kindly tell us how to solve our terrestrial problems.

It is one of the great ironies of science that exactly those speculations which capture the imagination of popular audiences (and in turn secure funding for scientific research) can be greeted with such scorn by scientists themselves. Carl Sagan straddled both sides of this invisible line, and Keay Davidson's biography reveals intriguing aspects of this percarious position.

Andy Reisinger is with NIWA in Wellington