Invention of Air: A Story of Science, Faith, Revolution, and the Birth of America Book

Steven Johnson, author of the excellent "The Ghost Map", here takes on the life of Joseph Priestley. The best parts of this book are where he confines himself to the task at hand, and gives us details of that life. Priestley was a fascinating character, a brilliant chemist and one of the most influential scientists of his age. He was also a practicing clergyman, whose nonconformist views ultimately provoked such a storm in England that he had to flee to America with his family. He was friends with Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson and John Adams; as a consequence of these friendships, he was to have substantial influence on the development of political thought in the fledgling democracy. Priestley wasn't brilliant all the time, of course - there was his notorious attachment to the phlogiston theory, as well as an unhealthy obsession with the Book of Revelation in the final years of his life. So the details of Priestley's life certainly provide more than adequate material for an interesting account.

Indeed, the book is at its most interesting when Johnson confines himself to filling in the biographical record. In particular, his account of the early work (discovery of what would later be termed Coulomb's Law, publication of the 'History of Electricity', invention of soda water) and the two experiments which established Priestley's reputation (the work showing that plants synthesize oxygen, his later 'discovery' of oxygen) is excellent.

Unfortunately, Johnson then seems to lose his moorings a bit. Understandably, he wants to put Priestley's scientific contributions in historical perspective. But this leads him to include what can only be called bloviation - ponderous, pseudo-profound musings about paradigm shifts, regrettable metaphors about the nature of scientific progress down the ages, and sentences like these:


In the next decade, the three paths would combine to form a mighty highway, one that would ultimately drive Priestley all the way to the New World.

Seeing human history as a series of intensifying energy flows is one way around the classic opposition between the Great Men and Collectivist visions of history.

What is the internal chemistry of a mob? Tellingly, mob behavior inevitably gravitates toward displays of intense energy transfer: the collective strength of a hundred enraged men pulling a building apart and unleashing the destructive, oxidizing force of combustion.

Where are the editors when you need them? Seriously, dude, ease off on the goddamned chemistry metaphors, wouldja? They make you seem like a moron, which you're not.

For a prolonged stretch in its middle third, the book ceases to be mainly about Priestley, degenerating instead into a kind of "look at me, I'm Steven Johnson, see how clever I am" morass. This is unfortunate, because even the most pedestrian of Priestley's biographical details would be more interesting than Johnson's views on the nature of scientific progress, which seemed to me to be short on content, long on pomposity. (This actually surprised me, because I've heard him interviewed on the radio and he seemed quite sensible and unpretentious).

Fortunately, things get back on track (more or less) for the remaining third of the book, describing the rising tide of violence that forced the Priestleys to flee to America and the scientist's final years in Pennsylvania.

Despite the misgivings expressed above, I really enjoyed this book, and have no hesitation in recommending it. But I do hope that Steven Johnson gets himself a better editor on his next project.

(I've put this on my "terrific" shelf for now, despite reservations about Johnson's style, because Priestley's life was genuinely fascinating)