The New Scientist Guide to Chaos

As a mathematician, I find it pretty easy to love science. I remember getting into New Scientist magazine during my A-Levels, and being excited by all the cool stories of scientific discovery, and the practical uses of these discoveries. A friend of mine bought a subscription to the magazine for a year, but barely read it. Luckily for me, I frequently stayed over at his after the pub (not like that, although there was a lot of tying up involved…), and as I always woke up before him in the morning I’d sit and read through his back catalogue of magazines, skipping to the best bits. I think we should move on to the book before I say anything incriminating.

The New Scientist Guide to Chaos was published in the mid-eighties, and designed as a guide to how Chaos theory was impacting many areas of science, and the importance of emerging computer technologies in driving these new theories and applications. The publishing date leads to two unavoidable, if slightly amusing, issues with reading this book now, in the early teenies. One is that most of what you’re reading is pretty dated, if theoretically sound. The other is that every now and again, some passage of the book shows up that dates the book in an extremely unflattering manner. One such passage occurs at the end of an essay on weather systems. The author begins to discuss climate change, but points out that any evidence pointing to global warming is still highly doubtful, and as such, scientists are hesitant to make any assertion that would imply the notion of climate change is real.

Despite the occasional reminder of how quickly scientific consensus can change, I really enjoyed the book. One of the reasons I stopped reading New Scientist was that, as my knowledge of Maths, Physics and science in general grew, I felt that it relied too heavily on metaphors and allusions, rather than just explaining what was going on directly. This book has few such problems, with frequent equations, experiments and direct explanations on display. The calibre of writer is also apparent, or at least I think it is - Mandelbrot, a famous Maths guy, writes one of the essays. That means I can assume everyone else is famous, right?

In terms of recommending this book to you, my loyal book clubbers (you are, after all, still loyal after the inappropriate jokes earlier on, aren't you?), it’s a difficult decision. The book is clearly dated, a relic of time, but on the other hand, it tells you a lot more about scientific processes than the last several dozen New Scientists I read. If you’re after a proper science read, Brian Cox’s book is probably a much better option, but for those of us who can't resist indulging in an old love affair, this will do fine.

Don't Make me Think!

I am a web analyst. I have been analysing the web since the dawn of September, and I don’t intend to stop anytime soon. I can analyze anything on the web, from the website I work on (Bookatable.com) to this humble blog. If my gmail account has access and the data is tracked in Google Analytics, I‘m set. Versatile, no? Anyway, I was handed a copy of Steve Krug’s ‘Don’t Make Me Think!’ by my boss, along with the advice to “read it, sleep with it and have it memorized by next week“. Sadly I failed to accomplish two of the three appointed tasks (I shall let you guess which), but I have been able to absorb enough to compile a review.

Steve Krug is a web usability expert, and the book was designed to be a short guide to giving you a better website. If this doesn’t get you excited, then you may not wish to read the book, or indeed the rest of this review. You would, of course, be foolish to adopt this opinion (and by extension not adopt mine). Krug’s principles of web usability can be extended to any creative endeavour. One such nugget of gold, that you should get rid of half the words on a given webpage, and then get rid of half of the remaining words, could easily apply to a late period James Cameron film, or a Stephen King novel.

Perhaps my favourite piece of advice, though, comes when discussing how to make things as accessible as possible. He gives a load of examples where presenting something simply allows a site to be intuitive, eye friendly, and easier for people with disabilities to navigate. Alongside this comes the point that people don’t mind having things they consider obvious explained to them, provided the explanation doesn’t get in the way. This is, of course, a crucial point that is understood throughout this book. There is a huge difference between simplifying something, and dumbing it down. It’s the same reason why Pixar make such successful films. Their stories are not dumb, they are presented simply.

Of course, you’ve read this post (you are still reading this, right?) thinking ‘yes James, you are a web analyst and you like a book about the internet. So what?’ I understand your point. You will not read this book and your life will be poorer. I pity you.