Tag Archives: evolution

Creation

The film Creation went on general release in the UK today, and as I’m just back from a lunchtime viewing, here are a few thoughts on the movie while it’s still fresh in my mind.

finch
Finch with fig, California (Tim Jones)

To cut to the chase: enjoyable film, with great performances from Paul Bettany as Charles Darwin and Jennifer Connelly as his wife Emma.   I’m giving it 4 out of 5 stars.

Very odd start though.  I arrived at 12.10 for  a 12.15 showing and had the theatre entirely to myself.  By 12.30 ish, when the ads were over, the final audience had grown to six people.  I know most folk can’t just knock off for the afternoon, but I found it surprising all the same; clearly not one for the pensioners.

I’ve made a point of not reading most  of the Creation reviews already out there; just one or two quickly once over.  So I’m relatively untainted but sufficiently informed to pick up on some of the obvious criticisms.

One of those criticisms has concerned the film’s factual accuracy.  But as few viewers will  have read the various biographies and letters, it strikes me that the emphasis should be more on identifying only serious material misrepresentations – and overall I don’t believe there are any (an exception is Huxley’s character – read on).

I was pleased to see certain events included: the failure to ‘civilise’ the Fuegan kids, the water cures, the influence of Hooker & Huxley, Darwin’s animosity with his local church, and Wallace’s letter.

At times though, I felt some incidents and issues had been slotted in because they had to be there – as if the director had a check list of  ‘leave that out and the Darwin aficionados will play hell’.  That’s how I felt about Huxley’s appearance anyhow.  Arguably, Huxley came in to his own in the affairs of the Origin only after its publication – exactly the point at which this film ends.  But the filmmakers have done T.H. an injustice all the same; the take-away impression of the man is just wrong.  Richard Dawkins wasn’t overjoyed with the portrayal, and I can see why; the character is out of kilter with the historic record, and may as well have worn a ‘new atheist’ sash. (I find New Atheist a silly term; what is an old atheist?  – Quiet?).  Intellectually, the portrayal is overly one-dimensional and aggressive.  Physically, Toby Jones is too short to portray a man whose height and presence in reality matched his intellect. They got Hooker’s whiskers down to a tee, so why not Huxley?

The core narrative revolves around Charles’s relationship with, and thoughts about, his daughter Annie. I don’t know the actor who played Annie, but she has an obvious future in Hollywood.  We don’t get to know the other children anything like so closely as we do Annie; and the intellectual, as well as emotional, bond between Annie and Darwin is particularly well developed.  There is something of the co-conspirator about Annie – a sense of  allegiance lacking in Emma until a reluctant appearance in the final scenes.

The various ghost sequences have been criticised, but again, I just saw these as a device to illustrate Darwin’s pre-occupation.  I don’t think he actually ran about the streets chasing his dead daughter (but please correct me if you know different).

All the themes in the movie ultimately link back to the Origin and what it stands for.  One of the more human incarnations of that influence is the Emma – Charles relationship.  Here I’d liked to have seen Emma’s philosophy explored a little more – even if the detailed  story-line were credibly fabricated (biographers do this all the time).  I guess we can never know someone’s innermost thoughts on life, the universe, and everything – no matter how many letters we read; but I felt the middle ground that our two protagonists must have found could have stood a little more exploration.

And never mind the movie, I find this theme of different fundamental philosophies within a relationship fascinating.  I wonder how many couples today mirror Charles and Emma?  This is a personal blog, so I can say that  I would, for example, find it challenging at best to live with a partner who I knew was going to hell.  That said, I have friends in atheist/Christian marriages who appear to get on just fine.

Which brings us to the big issue: is there a conflict between science and religion?  Back to Huxley, I suspect the director intentionally set him up as the fall guy on this score;  he can safely be hated for his total lack of religious accommodation early on in the film.  Hooker does pop up now and again to reinforce the atheist line (the word is not used – nor is Huxley’s later derived ‘agnostic’), but never with Huxley’s brand of enthusiastic venom.

So  what will a religious person make of this movie?  After all, wasn’t it the possible religious reaction, and associated reduction in box-office $, that was behind the recent stink over US distribution (the film now has a US distributor).

There is nothing in Creation more offensive than a portrayal of the facts of evolution as they were understood in Darwin’s day.  And Darwin’s encounter with Jenny the orangutan, which is beautifully represented in the film (well it’s not really acting is it) leaves little more to be said on the question of our own evolution.   I’m not about to dive into a lengthy science-religion debate, suffice to say my position is that there are elements of religion as defined by some that are – on the evidence – incompatible with some definitions of science; and that the science-religion debate is an important one with practical consequences for us all.

God’s official in Creation, the local vicar, is played by Jeremy Northam.  In one memorable scene, Northam tries to comfort Darwin in his torn anguish, which only sparks a sarcastic tirade from Darwin on the delights of the God-designed  parasitic wasp larvae and the burrowing habits of intestinal worms. Northam’s sincerity and Bettany’s losing his temper are both convincing.

I live within an hour’s drive of the real Down House, and know it pretty well.   While the house in the movie was not Down, the exterior feel – with large bay windows and patio doors opening to the garden captures the right flavour.

Down House - rear from the garden (photo Tim Jones)
Down House - rear from the garden (photo Tim Jones)

The study has a similar feel to English Heritage’s reproduction of the real thing at Down – even down to Darwin’s screened-off privy. Likewise, the lounge and dining room, while never visible in wide-shot, have an attractive homely ambiance. The village road and church scenes are consistent with the feel of the real Down.

It’s not the end of the world, but a sandwalk scene was noticeable by its absence.  The sandwalk for those who don’t know it is a gravelly path leading into the woods near Down House.  I tend to imagine Darwin pacing down the sandwalk, under the trees or sheltering from the rain; to be sure – it’s a nice spot for thinking.

Interesting angle on the sandwalk (photo Sven klinge)
Interesting angle on the sandwalk (photo tks Sven klinge)

To wind up, this movie contains all the main factual, scientific, cultural, and emotional elements I associate with Darwin in this important period in his life.   Issues around the compatibility of science and religion are met head on through illustration (if a little caricatured) rather than tedious debate, and we get to see the human, sensitive and fragile side of a scientist.

There is plenty here to enjoy in the theatre, but also much to take home and mull over – with your partner perhaps :-).

Go see it !   4/5.

What were they thinking?

I’ve just received this photograph from my good mate Sven, showing Alfred Russel Wallace’s grave and ‘tombstone’ in Broadstone Cemetery, in Dorset.

Alfred Russell Wallace's Grave
Alfred Russel Wallace's Grave


Now I know as a member of the ‘Carry-On’ generation my sensibilities are tainted, but all the same, in the spirit of low-brow citizen scientific journalism, it’s good to see A.R. can still stand tall in this remembrance year of his more celebrated associate in evolution – Charles Darwin.

Plaque on A.R.Wallace's grave
Plaque on A.R.Wallace's grave

The structure is in fact a two metres high fossil tree trunk, and the plaque on the wide-angle photo  is for his wife Anne; presumably interred in the same grave.  This is the plaque for A.R. .

Charles Schmarles

The Other Darwin Genius - Erasmus (artwork Graham Paterson)
The Other Darwin Genius - Erasmus (artwork Graham Paterson)

Charles Darwin was a great guy and a credit to the species.  But in this centenary year, he’s getting more than enough coverage already.

Erasmus Darwin, Charles’s grandfather, was the REAL  deal.

View or download my new illustrated article about Erasmus in iScience magazine:

Download pdf HERE (right click then ‘save as’)

then show everyone how ahead of the evolutionary curve you are with this ‘Other Darwin Genius’ tee-shirt, exclusive to Zoonomian at CommunicateScience.  100% American made and shipped to you direct from RedBubble.  Just click the ‘View & Buy’ link below.

Attenborough On Darwin

Reminder –  David Attenborough on Darwin, Sunday BBC1 9pm.   Here is Nature’s trailer.

According to the Radio Times, Attenborough gets hate mail from creationists over his views.

DA says:

“They always mean beautiful things like hummingbirds. I always reply by saying that I think of a little child in east Africa with a worm burrowing through his eyeball. The worm cannot live in any other way, except by burrowing through eyeballs. I find that hard to reconcile with the notion of a divine and benevolent creator.”

Nice guy (David A, not the other one).


Antz Meets Kung Fu Panda?

What’s all this then?  A protective alliance of anteaters and pandas?   Or are they just good mates out for a stroll?

All mixed up
All mixed up

Neither.  Take a closer look and you’ll see it’s all one animal.   What’s more, pandas come from China and anteaters are from Central and South Amercia, so there’s no way they could have fixed up a stunt like this – through evolutionary synergies or otherwise.  Unless you know different?

Just to complicate matters further, I took the photo in a North American zoo.

Roast Dog and Aquatint

In 1769, James Cook visited the island of Otaheite, or modern Tahiti, to observe the transit of venus.

And these are the Otaheite Dog and Wolf, or at least 1788 aquatint renditions of them, made with some license if the awkward stance and anthropomorphic gaze are to be believed;  but let that not distract from their story.

Acquatint of the Otaheite Dog by Charles Catton (Tim Jones's collection)
Acquatint of the Otaheite Wolf by Charles Catton (Tim Jones's collection)

Drawn from life, engraved, and published by Charles Catton in his ‘Animals, Drawn From Nature and Engraved in Aqua-tinta‘, in 1788, the prints are technically interesting as representing the first use of aquatint for natural history illustration.

Catton started life as a coach painter, expertly representing animals in heraldry, and achieving the rank of coach painter to George III. Later in his career he helped document animals observed by adventurers like John White, who travelled to the South Seas in 1787, and whose ‘A Journal of a Voyage to New South Wales’ featured Catton’s picture of an Australian kangeroo.  Like most artists at this time,  Catton didn’t actually travel with the explorers, but worked from live and dead specimens sent home from the New World expeditions.

Catton's Kangeroo for John White

A contemporary advertisement for the journal contains a statement on accuracy that, applied to the Otaheite dog, is indefensibile by modern standards:

“The Public may rely, with the most perfect confidence, on the care and accuracy with which the drawings have been copied from nature, by Miss Stone, Mr. Catton, Mr. Nodder, and other artists; and the Editor flatters himself the Engravings are all executed with equal correctness, by, or under the immediate inspection of Mr. Milton.”

Despite their failings, Catton’s aquatints were an honest attempt to represent reality.  What they lack, with the animals drawn dead and out of context, is any essence of the beasts: be that energy, poise, or sloth.

Catton’s Otaheite dog and wolf look similar, which is intriguing given John White made the same observation of their Australian counterparts:

“This animal is a variety of the dog, and, like the shepherd’s dog in most countries, approaches near to the original of the species, which is the wolf, but is not so large, and does not stand so high on its legs.

The ears are short, and erect, the tail rather bushy; the hair, which is of a reddish-dun colour, is long and thick, but strait. It is capable of barking, although not so readily as the European dogs; is very ill-natured and vicious, and snarls, howls, and moans, like dogs in common.

Whether this is the only dog in New South Wales, and whether they have it in a wild state, is not mentioned; but I should be inclined to believe they had no other; in which case it will constitute the wolf of that country; and that which is domesticated is only the wild dog tamed, without having yet produced a variety, as in some parts of America.”

Note the language: “approaches near to the original of the species”.  Some concept of evolution clearly existed way before Darwin published his 1859 Origin of Species.

Joseph Banks
Joseph Banks

The London Natural History Museum’s beautiful ‘Voyages of Discovery’ describes the Pacific crossing made by James Cook, Sir Joseph Banks, and Sydney Parkinson on the Endeavour, including their visit to Otaheite. What it fails to mention is the Otaheite dog and, more importantly – how to cook it.  For that we must turn to primary sources.  In ‘A Journey of a Voyage to the South Seas‘, Sydney Parkinson describes how civilised Englishmen came to share the Otaheite locals’ penchant for tasty roast dog:

fire“These people also are fond of dog’s-flesh, and reckon it delicious food, which we discovered by their bringing the leg of a dog roasted to sell. Mr. Banks ate a piece of it, and admired it much. He went out immediately and bought one, and gave it to some Indians to kill and dress it in their manner, which they did accordingly. After having held the dog’s mouth down to the pit of his stomach till he was stifled, they made a parcel of stones hot upon the ground, laid him upon them, and singed off the hair, then scraped his skin with a cocoa shell, and rubbed it with coral; after which they took out the entrails, laid them all carefully on the stones, and after they were broiled ate them with great goût; nor did some of our people scruple to partake with them of this indelicate repast. Hav-ing scraped and washed the dog’s body clean, they prepared an oven of hot stones, covered them with bread-fruit leaves, and laid it upon them, with liver, heart and lungs, pouring a cocoa-nut full of blood upon them, covering them too with more leaves and hot stones, and inclosed the whole with earth patted down very close to keep in the heat. It was about four hours in the oven, and at night it was served up for supper: I ate a little of it; it had the taste of coarse beef, and a strong disagreeable smell; but Captain Cook, Mr. Banks, and Dr. Solander, commended it highly, saying it was the sweetest meat they had ever tasted; but the rest of our people could not be prevailed on to ate any of it.”

And that about wraps it up for the Otaheite Dog.  Yummy.

Where Will You Celebrate Darwin’s Birthday ?

I suspect the run up to February 12th 2009 is going to be a bit like Christmas. A lunch here, a dinner there, an afternoon tea at Downe House, an evening at the Natural History Museum. Because February 12th 2009, the 200th anniversary of the birth of Charles Darwin and the 150th anniversary of the Origin of Species, is a very important date. Well at least for some people.

So where are you going to party?

UK readers might consider joining the event being organised by the National Secular Society in London on Saturday 7th February. The NSS is moving its annual Secularist of the Year Award presentation to coincide with the Darwin 200th birthday celebrations – making one big party.

Cerebral?
Soapy?

 

Three-course lunches are promised, plus entertainment that will include a reconstruction of the well known confrontation between Thomas Huxley and the Bishop of Oxford, ‘Soapy Sam’ Wilberforce, at the British Association in 1860. (Scholars amongst you must surely join this just to dissect the production’s ‘angle of spin’?) And as the NSS blurb states – you will be expected to take sides!

You don’t need to be a rabid secularist to join and, if you are a student, tickets are only £15 (£45 for normal people).

Tickets are on sale at the NSS online shop.

Stephen Fry, Science, and the Night I Lost My Gorilla to a Python

This Sunday 12th October, Stephen Fry will present the first of a series of programmes recounting his epic 50 State tour of the USA. Fry is well known as an actor, TV presenter, novellist, film maker, and general wit and, as this quote from the current Radio Times reminded me, he’s also a great fan and defender of science:

Stephen Fry
Stephen Fry (Picture credit: Radio Times online)

“The best definition of science I have ever heard (embarrassingly, it’s my own) is ‘humility in the face of facts” and yet science in America is always being accused of arrogance! Arrogance? Compared to those Sunday evangelists and others who claim that truth is ‘revealed’ in a book, one book, whose journey into existence is traceable in history, whose fragments and parts and apocrypha were arbitrarily decided by compromise and pragmatic need? Yet America’s insistence on equal validity between ‘revealed’ truth and evidence-based truth has meant that evolution is now pitted against so-called ‘intelligent design’, a barbarously irrational mixture of pseudoscience and fallacious argument that poses itself ‘innocently’ as a credible alternative.” (Stephen Fry – Radio Times)

No mistaking Stephen’s position on ‘Intelligent Design‘ then.

This sort of comment is consistent with the Stephen Fry I encountered at the first DNA Memorial Lecture at the Royal Institution in 2003. Fry was Master of Ceremonies for Richard Dawkins‘s lecture ‘Queerer Than We Can Suppose‘. And no, this wasn’t a homage to Deoxyribo Nucleic Acid, but rather a celebration of the memory of the irreplaceable Douglas Noel Adams, patron to the beneficiaries of the evening – The Diane Fossey Gorilla Fund and Save the Rhino International.

Fry’s comments during the various introductions, links, and humorous ramblings revealed an impressively knowledgeable and scientifically literate guy, especially in all matters evolutionary. He’d doubtless be shocked that anyone would think otherwise, but this was a world as yet unexposed to the intellectual sound-bitery of the QI show.

The real, not to say surreal, reason I remember this all so well is the charity auction at the end of the evening. With Fry as auctioneer, I found myself bidding head-to-head with Terry Jones (of Monty Python fame) for a two foot high, ceramic, silver-backed gorilla (as you do). Suffice to say the wrong Jones walked off with the pottery primate – leaving me apeless (sorry).

 

Also of Interest

“Douglas Adams loved ideas but hated writing, says Terry Jones”  March 2012 BBC article HERE

 


Run Rabbit Run

Do you find that riding a bicycle brings out your most inspired thoughts on evolutionary biology and learned behaviour? Do world-changing paradigms in the nature-versus-nurture debate spring unbidden into your oxygen enriched mind? No, me neither.

running rabbit
Run Rabbit Run (Photo: Tim Jones)

Well not normally. Thing is, I did today observe that the rabbits and squirrels on my Thames-side cycle route were markedly less afraid of a wheeled me than a walking me. Not only did the rabbits take their time getting out of the way (doubtless some variant of the ‘frozen in the headlamps’ syndrome), but also hung around after I stopped. Squirrels behaved in a similar fashion, as did magpies (which as a species seem to spend a good 50% of their time on the ground).

trench warfare
Trench warfare! (Photo: Tim Jones)

It’s well known that animals associate threat or opportunity with the shape of a predator or prey. Good advice in lion country is never to squat down or bend over. Those actions make humans look like four legged prey to large cats, so any bending at the waist while in mountain lion territory is a no-no (as my wife twice reminded me this summer as I tied my shoelaces in the San Gabriel mountains of Southern California).

squirrel
Freeze ! (Photo:Tim Jones)

But how much of the rabbit’s behaviour is learned, and how much is in the genes? Over what timescales do these influences operate? Indeed, to be fashionable, should I not consider whether an epigenetic influence is at work here, whereby gene activating chemistry has been triggered in an earlier generation of rabbits and passed to Junior – grandad meets a bipedal human with shotgun say, rather than jump to the more conventional explanation of gene natural selection?

Actually I’m inclined to jump to the conventional explanation. Sat on a bike we no longer look human, and bicycles haven’t been around long enough (and/or in a sufficiently rabbit-unfriendly incarnation) to reflect in rabbit evolutionary traits. The association of threat with the shape of a two legged man is, I suggest, genetic. The rabbit population of England has been managed as a commodity for centuries (rabbits were husbanded by a Warrener no less), so plenty of time for natural selection to do its work. However, this is supposition, and to be properly scientific we would want greater confidence in our hypothesis that any epigenetic influence is small. That, regrettably, would require quite complex trials involving geographically isolated test parks and cyclists armed with shotguns.

It’s clearly been one of those days.

The Other Darwin Genius

You’ll hardly need reminding that next year is the 200th anniversary of the birth of Charles Darwin, and the 150th anniversary of his best known work – On The Origin of Species. It’s already a big deal: special events, new book editions, talks, tee-shirts, diaries, calendars, and commemorative mugs – the lot.  And rightly so – however we might nuance the term, there would be no Darwinism without Darwin. But as the celebrations bubble up to a crescendo of reverence on February 12th, I wonder if the world will spare a thought for Darwin’s own origins, and particularly his illustrious grandfather – Erasmus (1731-1802). He’ll certainly be struggling for attention, so consider this a pre-emptive strike on behalf of The Other Darwin Genius.

Charles (1809-1882)
Charles (1809-1882)

We automatically associate ‘Darwin’ with the name ‘Charles’. A mention of Erasmus in conversation brings blank looks, even from devotees of the definitive Charles. Genius twice in the same family – impossible! And if the old fellow had some notoriety in his day, surely it must pale beside that of his grandson.Yet Erasmus is not to be compared to Charles in any competitive sense. Their skills, inclinations, personality, temperament, and achievements were very different. It was their shared inquisitiveness and intellectual energy that destined each to leave a lasting imprint on the world. We all know about Charles’s lasting imprint, but few are aware that Erasmus was:

Erasmus (1809-1882)
Erasmus (1809-1882)
  • The greatest physician of his time
  • An original and popular poet
  • A respected scientist and inventor
  • A key player and catalyst in the industrial revolution

His life has been richly documented by physicist Desmond King-Hele, whose analysis reveals a breathtaking range of interests, involvements and achievements. Not associated with one single big theory or event, Erasmus confuses our conception of the traditional achiever. Charles by contrast is easy – well and truly Mr Evolution. So what makes Erasmus so appealing?

His lifelong profession was medicine. Widely recognised in England as the top doctor of his day, he famously declined to be King George III’s personal physician. (Had he accepted of course, George’s porphyria would have quickly cleared up, the King’s eye would have stayed on the political ball, and America would still be ours – yippee! Well, O.K. – maybe not; Erasmus’s sympathies actually tended towards the pro-revolutionary.) He chose rather to spread his benefaction widely, making house calls to ordinary folk in all weathers and treating the poor for free.

Erasmus’s medical knowledge is captured in the 1796 ZOONOMIA. At 5kg, the big and heavy first edition makes fascinating reading. Some of the 18th century cures sound worse than the diseases, but while Erasmus’s use of the blood-letting lancet for physical conditions may have been typical, his approach to mental disease was ahead of its time. Lunatics in his care could expect compassion instead of the more familiar beating.

Zoonomia Vol II was a catalogue of disease (Tim Jones private collection)

Charles inherited his knack for ruffling religious feathers from his grandfather, who in Zoonomia classified religion as a mental disease – a ‘Desease of Volition’. Here he dismisses it along with other fantasies in a discussion on Credulitas, or Credulity. To get a flavour of the language and its appearance, the reader is invited to struggle through this photocopy of the original text:

[text continues]………

In regard to religious matters, there is an intellectual cowardice instilled in the minds of the people from their infancy; which prevents their inquiry: credulity is made an indispensible virtue; to inquire or exert their reason in religious matters is denounced as sinful; and in the catholic church is punished with more severe penances than moral crimes…

For each desease, Darwin offers a cure. Headed ‘M.M.’ for Materia Medica, his wise council on credulity reads:

M.M. The method of cure is to increase our knowledge of the laws of nature, and our habit of comparing whatever ideas are presented to us with those known laws, and thus to counteract the fallacies or our senses, to emancipate ourselves from the false impressions which we have imbibed in our infancy, and to set the faculty of reason above that of imagination.

Rational thinking and appeal to scientific method shine through – not surprising given the very interesting people Erasmus was mixing with: James Watt and Matthew Boulton of steam engine fame, Josiah Wedgwood of pottery fame, the Scottish chemist James Kier, and the politically animated chemist and co-discoverer of oxygen Joseph Priestley.

Statue of Boulton, Watt, and Murdoch in Birmingham, UK
Statue of Boulton, Watt, and Murdoch in Birmingham, UK (Photo: Tim Jones)

With Erasmus’s support, Wedgwood got England’s first canal built, while his friendship and technical exchanges with Watt and Boulton catalysed the steam age. Together known as the Lunar Men, (so called because they travelled to monthly meetings assisted by moonlight) this group drove the industrial revolution and gave us the roots of our technological world.

A pioneering scientist and engineer in his own right, Erasmus is unsung in many fields. He discovered ‘Charles Gas Law’ before Charles -who claimed it 24 years later, glimpsed partial pressures ahead of Dalton, and explained how clouds form. His musings appear almost casually in a letter to Boulton, where we first learn that his plans for weather forecasting will be enhanced by the accuracy of John Harrison’s new clock – that is Harrison of longitude fame (this single letter is astonishing in the icons it embraces), then:

Erasmus explained cloud formation

I am extremely impatient for this Play-Thing! [Harrison’s clock] as I intend to fortell every Shower by it, and make great medical discovery as far as relates to the specific Gravity of Air: and from the Quantity of Vapor. Thus the Specific Gravity of the Air, should be as the Absolute Gravity (shew’d by the Barometer) and as the Heat (shew’d by Boulton’s Thermometer). Now if it is not always found as these two (that is as one and inversely as the other) then the deviations at different Times must be as the Quantity of dissolved Vapour in the Air.

Elsewhere in the same letter, having playfully struck Boulton off as a “plodding man of Business” he proceeds to bribe him with wine on the condition he glass-blows one of the empties into a specific form required for his (Darwin’s) researches.

The first reference to the mechanism for cloud formation comes in a 1784 letter to Josiah Wedgwood; with what amounts to a description of the universal law of adiabatic expansion of gases, which he later published in a formal journal.

Evolution is also discussed in Zoonomia and The Temple of Nature, also by by Erasmus. His coat of arms comprised three scallop shells with the telling motto E conchis omnia – ‘everything from shells’, reflecting his belief that all life started from sea creatures. Unfortunately, the device was not subtle enough to evade the local clergy, leaving Erasmus force-put to paint it out and thereby keep the peace (it remained on his bookplate). Erasmus’s gift for marrying art with science matured in his narrative poem The Botanic Garden, which brought him literary fame and the respect of influential friends like the poets Wordsworth and Coleridge, both of whom record him as an important influence on their work.

Erasmus was clever but not boring. A true man of the Enlightenment, he took all his pleasures seriously. Shunning alcohol, he preferred to act on his conviction that sugar and cream were the healthiest of foods, consuming both in quantity. He had a semi-circular profile carved in his dining table to accommodate the girth of his indulgence. Always amorously inclined, his successful bid for the hand of the young socialite Elizabeth Pole, whilst in the disrepair of his fifties, is intriguing – not to say impressive, as are his liberal reproductive powers, evidenced by 14 children including two illegitimacies.

And so it goes on: from speaking machines to steam turbines, from educational reform to carriage design, from the moon’s origin to the formation of coal; in all these areas and many more, Erasmus made a valuable and original contribution to knowledge. For me though, it is the combination of The Other Darwin Genius’s bon-viveur attitude, innovatory energy, rationality, compassion, and his measured disrespect for authority, convention and the status quo, that makes him (and I know this is blasphemy) the more interesting Darwin. Spare him a thought on February 12th.

Other Links Erasmusdarwin.org – custodians of his memory and former home in Litchfield.