A JOKE from the 1950s. Two North Country manufacturers, to keep up to date with industrial progress, hired a science graduate and provided him with a shining new laboratory. The graduate duly turned up on his first day at work and vanished inside his domain. The two manufacturers met for a coffee break. 鈥淚鈥檓 going to see what he鈥檚 invented,鈥� said one. The other replied: 鈥淣ay. Give bugger a chance. Wait till dinner time.鈥�
During the 1940s and 1950s, the gradually revealed details of the sometimes decisive part that science played in winning the Second World War produced a public somewhat dazzled by science and scientists. The way ahead seemed bright, lit by the beams of applied research. Government labs and the research associations, partly financed by the government, became sources of newspaper stories, aided by the new profession of science correspondents. Herbert Morrison, then Home Secretary, in a speech to the directors of these labs, and calling their establishments the 鈥渟pearhead鈥�, recommended that they add a megaphone to it. 快猫短视频s appeared on television, pontificating and were treated with reverence. The civil service discovered the 鈥渃ustomer contractor principle鈥� and referred stirringly to 鈥渕ission-oriented research鈥�. The future was cornucopia-shaped as science wrestled with short-term, commercial projects for the good of us all.
All very well, but Frank Ashall thinks that there has been too much emphasis on dealing with immediate problems and too much neglect of basic research. Of course, this is by no means a fresh topic, but it is one always worth laying out again. Remarkable Discoveries (Cambridge, pp 278, 拢16.95) is an argument, with cogent examples to prove his case that 鈥渂asic investigation of Nature will 鈥� inevitably give us new and unexpected benefits that will improve every aspect of our daily lives鈥�. Starting with surely the most convincing instance of basic research and its undreamt-of benefits 鈥� Michael Faraday and his experiments with magnetism and electricity 鈥� he takes us through a couple of centuries of discoveries stemming from fundamental work, right up to the unravelling of DNA, noting the bonuses that followed (what journalists called the 鈥渨hat鈥檚-in-it-for-the-housewife?鈥� bit).
Advertisement
It is a good thing that the stories of discovery are so fascinating, for Ashall, although he was at The Independent as a Media Fellow, cannot be said to be more than an adequate writer. The potted biographies of his discoverers are schooldesk-flat recitals of facts. Despite reservations, Ashall does make his case. Any chance of MPs reading it?