Skip to main content

Kepler and the Universe - David Love ****

I got my remaindered copy of this book from one of those quirky shops in Glastonbury that specialises in all things mystical. Don’t let that put you off, though – there’s actually a lot more science than mysticism in it. On top of that, it’s the best biography I’ve read for a long time – well-researched and insightful, but fast-moving and highly readable at the same time.

The world Kepler lived in was very different from ours (his dates were 1571 – 1630). In those days, it wasn’t a case of scientific rationalism on one side versus religion and woolly-minded mysticism on the other. Science barely entered the picture – it hadn’t even crystallised into its modern form yet. Europe was torn apart by arguments, not between religion and science, but between different flavours of religion. A bafflingly incomprehensible struggle between Lutherans and Calvinists sizzles away in the background throughout the book.

There were mystics in those days, too. We’re told, for example, that Kepler’s patron, the Emperor Rudolf II, ‘was only interested in wizards, alchemists, cabbalists and the like’. Unlike today, however, the mystics weren’t anti-science (because, as already mentioned, science hadn’t been invented yet). If anything, in their fumblings towards ‘the truth’, the mystics were actually pushing the world closer and closer to a genuine scientific method. And Johannes Kepler was one of them.

His official title was Imperial Mathematician. To modern eyes that might look highly scientific, but in those days the idea that mathematics could provide a meaningful description of the real world was essentially a mystical one. Mathematics had always been used in astronomy, but only as a calculating tool. It was Kepler’s big idea that a mathematical model of the Solar System could actually tell you something about how it worked. Like all his contemporaries, Kepler believed that God had created the universe – but he capped that with the ‘mystical’ idea that it had been created along strictly mathematical lines.

This is where Kepler’s greatest scientific contribution came from – the notion that the planets move on elliptical orbits around the Sun, at speeds determined by precise mathematical laws. I already knew that – but the book gives a fascinating and lucid account of how Kepler got to that stage which was completely new to me. I was also surprised to discover that he anticipated Newton in ascribing planetary motion to a force emanating from the Sun – although he was thinking more in terms of an ethereal whirlpool than gravity.

As David Love says at one point, ‘Kepler could sometimes be utterly wrong, just as he was often brilliantly right’. As well as correctly explaining the speed of planetary orbits, he erroneously explained their spacing using a geometrical theory of ‘perfect solids’ borrowed from ancient Greek philosophy. Throughout his life he was a firm believer in astrological prediction, albeit in a semi-rationalised form: ‘he saw astrology in much the same way as we now see our genes – not as a complete determinant of all our actions but as a strong and inescapable influence on us’. He was also devoutly religious, and believed that God created the universe solely for the benefit of humans on Earth: ‘He strongly disapproved of [the] idea of an infinite universe in which the stars were suns like our own.’

That last point is particularly ironic, because many people today will only know the name ‘Kepler’ in the context of NASA’s exoplanet-hunting space telescope. If you’re in that category and want to know more about the person it was named after – or if you know about Kepler’s laws but not about the man behind them – then this is the book to read.


Hardback:  

Kindle:  
Using these links earns us commission at no cost to you


Review by Andrew May

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Laws of Thought - Tom Griffiths *****

In giving us a history of attempts to explain our thinking abilities, Tom Griffiths demonstrates an excellent ability to pitch information just right for the informed general reader.  We begin with Aristotelian logic and the way Boole and others transformed it into a kind of arithmetic before a first introduction of computing and theories of language. Griffiths covers a surprising amount of ground - we don't just get, for instance, the obvious figures of Turing, von Neumann and Shannon, but the interaction between the computing pioneers and those concerned with trying to understand the way we think - for example in the work of Jerome Bruner, of whom I confess I'd never heard.  This would prove to be the case with a whole host of people who have made interesting contributions to the understanding of human thought processes. Sometimes their theories were contradictory - this isn't an easy field to successfully observe - but always they were interesting. But for me, at least, ...

The AI Paradox - Virginia Dignum ****

This is a really important book in the way that Virginia Dignum highlights various ways we can misunderstand AI and its abilities using a series of paradoxes. However, I need to say up front that I'm giving it four stars for the ideas: unfortunately the writing is not great. It reads more like a government report than anything vaguely readable - it really should have co-authored with a professional writer to make it accessible. Even so, I'm recommending it: like some government reports it's significant enough to make it necessary to wade through the bureaucrat speak. Why paradoxes? Dignum identifies two ways we can think about paradoxes (oddly I wrote about paradoxes recently , but with three definitions): a logical paradox such as 'this statement is false', or a paradoxical truth such as 'less is more' - the second of which seems a better to fit to the use here.  We are then presented with eight paradoxes, each of which gives some insights into aspects of t...

Einstein's Fridge - Paul Sen ****

In Einstein's Fridge (interesting factoid: this is at least the third popular science book to be named after Einstein's not particularly exciting refrigerator), Paul Sen has taken on a scary challenge. As Jim Al-Khalili made clear in his excellent The World According to Physics , our physical understanding of reality rests on three pillars: relativity, quantum theory and thermodynamics. But there is no doubt that the third of these, the topic of Sen's book, is a hard sell. While it's true that these are the three pillars of physics, from the point of view of making interesting popular science, the first two might be considered pillars of gold and platinum, while the third is a pillar of salt. Relativity and quantum theory are very much of the twentieth century. They are exciting and sometimes downright weird and wonderful. Thermodynamics, by contrast, has a very Victorian feel and, well, is uninspiring. Luckily, though, thermodynamics is important enough, lying behind ...