Sheila M. Trask

Read theoretical physicist Carlo Rovelli’s meticulous explanations of the “elementary weave of the world” and you will never again let the phrase “quantum leap” roll loosely from your tongue. Instead of bringing to mind “The X-Files,” the words will invoke questions—and possible answers—about the very structure of space. In careful, professorial fashion, Rovelli lays out the history of breakthroughs in physics, deftly showing how each new theory built on or discredited previous theories, leading us to ideas Rovelli works with today, like loop quantum gravity and spin networks.

Rovelli’s stated aim is to educate audiences who know little about today’s physics, but it must be said that the true novice will need to pay strict attention to each lesson offered here if he or she is to benefit from the knowledge that accumulates as the pages turn. Most readers would be well served to begin with Rovelli’s 2016 bestseller, Seven Brief Lessons on Physics, a whirlwind tour of the ideas developed more deeply here. If you prefer your physics steeped in context, though, this new volume is the place to dive in, for Rovelli writes eloquently here about historical figures from Anaximander to Einstein, and even poets like Dante and Shakespeare.

Accessible on many levels, Reality Is Not What It Seems offers logical explanations of complex concepts. Throughout, Rovelli makes palpable the human struggle to understand our world and to “discover the new.”

This article was originally published in the February 2017 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

What captures your attention? How does that shape your thinking, and ultimately, your actions? That’s the question Dr. David A. Kessler, former commissioner of the Food and Drug Administration, asks in Capture: Unraveling the Mystery of Mental Suffering. He answers the question by putting people—sometimes troubled, sometimes brilliant, often both—at the heart of his research. While he provides the basic neuroscience and survey of psychological thought we would expect for a book on this subject, Kessler himself seems more captured by the personal stories he’s gathered, from figures including Dostoyevsky and David Foster Wallace.

Wallace appears repeatedly in Kessler’s explorations, and the conversations Kessler had with the lauded writer’s parents are moving as well as illustrative. Kessler’s thesis is that many emotional struggles and mental illnesses have a common underlying mechanism: Some stimulus takes hold of our attention and shifts our perceptions so we become increasingly focused on the stimulus and anything related to it. This “capture” can drive incredible creativity—witness Wallace’s astounding literary feats, including the mammoth novel Infinite Jest—but it can also trigger an endless downward spiral, as in Wallace’s deep depressions and eventual suicide.

Kessler shows the mechanism of capture at work in the lives of a wide range of mostly literary luminaries, showing us how much Dostoyevsky’s gambling problem has in common with Caroline Knapp’s alcoholism, for instance. He also explores, more briefly, the pure joy of “capture,” in sections devoted to shifts of focus that have led to activism, social justice movements, incredible musical compositions and religious rebellions. Stories like that of Bill Wilson, the founder of Alcoholics Anonymous, offer hope that even from the depths of addiction, one can experience a shift of perception that changes everything and leads to a meaningful and fulfilling life.

If anyone is well positioned to convince people that the threat of a blackout-inducing cyberattack on America is real, it’s Ted Koppel. A respected and award-winning journalist, longtime “Nightline” anchor and current news analyst for NPR and the BBC, Koppel has the credibility and visibility to both conduct a thorough investigation and broadcast the results widely. In this clear-eyed analysis of the pending threat of cyberattacks and our government’s shockingly insufficient plans for surviving them, Koppel crunches the numbers that make a doomsday scenario look not only possible, but likely. 

What makes Koppel’s numbers digestible—for instance, the highly vulnerable Large Power Transformers that form the backbone of our electrical distribution system cost between $3 and $10 million each, are custom-built and can only be made in 10 U.S. facilities, rendering replacement difficult, costly and time-consuming—is that he doesn’t rely on statistical compilations or government reports. He goes out and talks to the people involved, like Tom Ridge, the first secretary of the Department of Homeland Security (DHS), and Jeh Johnson, the current head of DHS. Though many interviewees try to dodge Koppel’s astute questions, he keeps on asking; the answers build a convincing picture of a government that reluctantly acknowledges the threat and yet remains woefully unprepared to handle it.

Koppel’s questions don’t stop there. He turns to the folks who think they have some answers, from survivalists, preppers and rural do-it-yourselfers to the American Red Cross and the Mormon Church. Readers may be surprised to hear how difficult it was for Koppel and staff to reach the Red Cross and just how thoroughly prepared the Mormon community is. 

Koppel doesn’t pretend that he can tie up all of these threads into a neat solution. Instead, he turns introspective in the final chapters, remembering the dubious government safety plans of his childhood: backyard bomb shelters and duck-and-cover school drills. With this, he acknowledges the difficulty of planning for the unknown, but he also asks us to keep trying.

This article was originally published in the November 2015 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.