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Every Living Thing: The Great and Deadly Race to Know All Life
From the bestselling author of A Sense of the World comes this dramatic, globe-spanning and meticulously-researched story of two scientific rivals and their race to survey all life on Earth.
In the 18th century, two men dedicated their lives to the same daunting task: identifying and describing all life on Earth. Their approaches could not have been more different. Carl Linnaeus, a pious Swedish doctor with a huckster's flair, believed that life belonged in tidy, static categories. Georges-Louis de Buffon, an aristocratic polymath and keeper of France's royal garden, viewed life as a dynamic swirl of complexities. Both began believing their work to be difficult, but not impossible—how could the planet possibly hold more than a few thousand species? Stunned by life's diversity, both fell far short of their goal. But in the process they articulated starkly divergent views on nature, on humanity's role in shaping the fate of our planet and on humanity itself.
The rivalry between these two unique, driven individuals created reverberations that still echo today. Linnaeus, with the help of acolyte explorers he called "apostles" (only half of whom returned alive), gave the world such concepts as mammal, primate and homo sapiens—but he also denied species change and promulgated racist pseudo-science. Buffon coined the term reproduction, formulated early prototypes of evolution and genetics, and argued passionately against prejudice. It was a clash that, during their lifetimes, Buffon seemed to be winning. But their posthumous fates would take a very different turn.
With elegant, propulsive prose grounded in more than a decade of research, featuring appearances by Voltaire, Benjamin Franklin and Charles Darwin, bestselling author Jason Roberts tells an unforgettable true-life tale of intertwined lives and enduring legacies, tracing an arc of insight and discovery that extends across three centuries into the present day.
In the 18th century, two men dedicated their lives to the same daunting task: identifying and describing all life on Earth. Their approaches could not have been more different. Carl Linnaeus, a pious Swedish doctor with a huckster's flair, believed that life belonged in tidy, static categories. Georges-Louis de Buffon, an aristocratic polymath and keeper of France's royal garden, viewed life as a dynamic swirl of complexities. Both began believing their work to be difficult, but not impossible—how could the planet possibly hold more than a few thousand species? Stunned by life's diversity, both fell far short of their goal. But in the process they articulated starkly divergent views on nature, on humanity's role in shaping the fate of our planet and on humanity itself.
The rivalry between these two unique, driven individuals created reverberations that still echo today. Linnaeus, with the help of acolyte explorers he called "apostles" (only half of whom returned alive), gave the world such concepts as mammal, primate and homo sapiens—but he also denied species change and promulgated racist pseudo-science. Buffon coined the term reproduction, formulated early prototypes of evolution and genetics, and argued passionately against prejudice. It was a clash that, during their lifetimes, Buffon seemed to be winning. But their posthumous fates would take a very different turn.
With elegant, propulsive prose grounded in more than a decade of research, featuring appearances by Voltaire, Benjamin Franklin and Charles Darwin, bestselling author Jason Roberts tells an unforgettable true-life tale of intertwined lives and enduring legacies, tracing an arc of insight and discovery that extends across three centuries into the present day.
14 pages, Audiobook
First published April 9, 2024
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About the author
Jason Roberts
31 books56 followersJason Roberts is a writer of nonfiction and fiction. His most recent book is Every Living Thing: The Great and Deadly Race to Know All Life. His previous book, A Sense of the World: How a Blind Man Became History’s Greatest Traveler, was a national bestseller and finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award. A contributor to McSweeney’s, The Believer, and other publications, he lives in Northern California.
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January 12, 2025
Possibly my favourite read of 2024, Every Living Thing: The Great and Deadly Race to Know All Life begins with a contrasted play-by-play of the beginnings and progressing careers of competing naturalists Carl von Linné and Georges-Louis de Buffon, then manages to expand into a much wider collection of anecdotes about various related scientists and their own breakthroughs over time. The tone and the pacing are just right; the anecdotes proved fascinating; I could not have asked for a better, friendlier work on the origins of taxonomy and its later implications (all the way to current-day genetics).
I’m closing the cover on this one with a personal project to visit the Jardin des Plantes next time I’m in Paris, and for one thing make sure to walk up to Buffon’s Gloriette — a technological wonder hailing from the 1700s. “The Gloriette’s elegant blend of simplicity and complexity would not be appreciated until decades later, when mathematicians noticed that the airy, net-like roof drew its solidity not only from solid iron casting but from the pattern of the lattice. It is a one-sheeted hyperboloid, considered the most complicated of quadratic surfaces yet discovered. Maximizing the ratio of structural integrity to surface area, one-sheeted hyperboloids would not enter the lexicon of architecture until the twentieth century, when they became the underlying formula for the cooling towers of power plants. The Gloriette, like Buffon, was ahead of its time.”
However telling a testament to Georges-Louis de Buffon’s inventiveness the above passage provides, it’s not entirely representative of the book’s content. Nature remains the star of the show in this gripping essay, not architecture or mathematics. And while Linné’s binomial nomenclature is still the standard to this day in designating plants and birds and other organisms — such as the common dandelion, or Taraxacum officinale — Every Living Thing brings much more to the table, including about Linné’s darker contributions to human history (like a clear starting point to racism), and Buffon’s long overlooked insights, nowadays more than redeemed, having inspired Charles Darwin and other like-minded successors.
“Buffon had even attempted to dismantle a near-universal belief: that the Earth’s abundance was unlimited. Writing of what we now call biomass in his essay ‘De la Terre Végétale,’ he wrote, ‘Nature’s productive capacity is so great that the quantity of this vegetal humus would continue to augment everywhere, if we did not despoil and impoverish the earth by our planned exploitations of it, which are almost always immoderate.’ The idea that humans could ‘despoil and impoverish’ a God-given natural cornucopia was almost as blasphemous as the notion that it had not been created in a single act.”
This book is a keeper, and I hope to reread this 300-year adventure, one day.
***
About Egyptomania beginning in France under Napoleon: “In Egypt, Geoffroy [Saint-Hilaire] had discovered that human mummies were vastly outnumbered by mummified animals — cats, crocodiles, dogs, jackals, snakes, and especially birds. One site, the catacombs of Tuna el-Gebel, held an estimated four million mummified birds, which curiously all seemed to be of the same species. Arriving with numerous examples from the Tune el-Gebel trove, Geoffroy inadvertently laid the groundwork for what became known as the Sacred Ibis Debates.”
***
About Thomas Henry Huxley, who remained the greatest public defender of Darwin’s writings on natural selection at the time, despite what follows: “In both religious and scientific matters Huxley was agnostic, a term he’d coined himself: It means ‘one who does not know’ in Greek. His worldview was limited only to facts that could be confirmed, not ideas and dogma that required a leap of faith. Evolution, if it existed, appeared to operate on a timescale longer than a human lifespan. While future generations might be able to confirm it, they might also be able to disprove it. Until then, Huxley considered both theories of evolution only theories.”
***
On the birth of biology as a discipline: “Another notable innovation had arisen from Lamarck’s forced move from botany to zoology. He’d come to realize that ‘natural history,’ while acceptable as a category of savantry, was too vague a term for the discipline now taking on the recognizable contours of a science. Under natural history, botany and zoology had wandered along separate tracks. Having negotiated those tracks, Lamarck had coined a new term for a single science that encompassed both. He called it biology, the unified study of living things. Under Linnean dominance, natural history focused on differences. Lamarck’s biology focused on commonalities, even across the so-called kingdoms of animal and vegetable.”
***
On how the names and categories we invent end up shaping our reality, not merely reflecting it: “The decisions we tend to make in organizing the world tend to disappear once we’ve made them, but they’re inevitably encoded in language. Take colors, for instance. […] Among English-speaking people, we distinguish pink as a separate color from red. In the Malaysian language (Bhasa Malay), however, there is no pink. There is only merah, red. […] Yet English does exactly the same thing. We have no equivalent of pink for the blue portion of the spectrum. If you are not content with the vagueness of ‘light blue,’ you have no choice but to get hyper-specific — ‘robin’s-egg blue,’ for instance. In other words, there’s a chromatic gap in our language just as big as the one in Malaysian. But if you’re like most native English speakers, you’ve probably never noticed it. In contrast, Russian speakers learning English notice it right away: Their language divides up our 'blue' into two colors, the paler goluboy and the darker siniy. What’s fascinating is that these distinctions are more than technicalities. They become hardwired into our brains. Neuroscientists have found that native Russian speakers are measurably faster at distinguishing dark-blue shades from lighter ones, presumably because, in their minds, the difference between goluboy and siniy is clear-cut.”
***
About the intelligence of animals: “Buffon ‘sailed as near the wind as was desirable,’ [Samuel] Butler explained, citing a passage from Histoire Naturelle that expressed one of Buffon’s more controversial ideas: that animals are not only intelligent, but in some important regards display an intelligence greater than ours. ‘Why do we find in the hole of the field-mouse enough acorns to keep him until the following summer?’ Buffon had written. ‘Why do we find such abundant store of honey and wax within the beehive? Why do ants store food? Why should birds make nests if they do not know that they will have need of them?’”
I’m closing the cover on this one with a personal project to visit the Jardin des Plantes next time I’m in Paris, and for one thing make sure to walk up to Buffon’s Gloriette — a technological wonder hailing from the 1700s. “The Gloriette’s elegant blend of simplicity and complexity would not be appreciated until decades later, when mathematicians noticed that the airy, net-like roof drew its solidity not only from solid iron casting but from the pattern of the lattice. It is a one-sheeted hyperboloid, considered the most complicated of quadratic surfaces yet discovered. Maximizing the ratio of structural integrity to surface area, one-sheeted hyperboloids would not enter the lexicon of architecture until the twentieth century, when they became the underlying formula for the cooling towers of power plants. The Gloriette, like Buffon, was ahead of its time.”
However telling a testament to Georges-Louis de Buffon’s inventiveness the above passage provides, it’s not entirely representative of the book’s content. Nature remains the star of the show in this gripping essay, not architecture or mathematics. And while Linné’s binomial nomenclature is still the standard to this day in designating plants and birds and other organisms — such as the common dandelion, or Taraxacum officinale — Every Living Thing brings much more to the table, including about Linné’s darker contributions to human history (like a clear starting point to racism), and Buffon’s long overlooked insights, nowadays more than redeemed, having inspired Charles Darwin and other like-minded successors.
“Buffon had even attempted to dismantle a near-universal belief: that the Earth’s abundance was unlimited. Writing of what we now call biomass in his essay ‘De la Terre Végétale,’ he wrote, ‘Nature’s productive capacity is so great that the quantity of this vegetal humus would continue to augment everywhere, if we did not despoil and impoverish the earth by our planned exploitations of it, which are almost always immoderate.’ The idea that humans could ‘despoil and impoverish’ a God-given natural cornucopia was almost as blasphemous as the notion that it had not been created in a single act.”
This book is a keeper, and I hope to reread this 300-year adventure, one day.
***
About Egyptomania beginning in France under Napoleon: “In Egypt, Geoffroy [Saint-Hilaire] had discovered that human mummies were vastly outnumbered by mummified animals — cats, crocodiles, dogs, jackals, snakes, and especially birds. One site, the catacombs of Tuna el-Gebel, held an estimated four million mummified birds, which curiously all seemed to be of the same species. Arriving with numerous examples from the Tune el-Gebel trove, Geoffroy inadvertently laid the groundwork for what became known as the Sacred Ibis Debates.”
***
About Thomas Henry Huxley, who remained the greatest public defender of Darwin’s writings on natural selection at the time, despite what follows: “In both religious and scientific matters Huxley was agnostic, a term he’d coined himself: It means ‘one who does not know’ in Greek. His worldview was limited only to facts that could be confirmed, not ideas and dogma that required a leap of faith. Evolution, if it existed, appeared to operate on a timescale longer than a human lifespan. While future generations might be able to confirm it, they might also be able to disprove it. Until then, Huxley considered both theories of evolution only theories.”
***
On the birth of biology as a discipline: “Another notable innovation had arisen from Lamarck’s forced move from botany to zoology. He’d come to realize that ‘natural history,’ while acceptable as a category of savantry, was too vague a term for the discipline now taking on the recognizable contours of a science. Under natural history, botany and zoology had wandered along separate tracks. Having negotiated those tracks, Lamarck had coined a new term for a single science that encompassed both. He called it biology, the unified study of living things. Under Linnean dominance, natural history focused on differences. Lamarck’s biology focused on commonalities, even across the so-called kingdoms of animal and vegetable.”
***
On how the names and categories we invent end up shaping our reality, not merely reflecting it: “The decisions we tend to make in organizing the world tend to disappear once we’ve made them, but they’re inevitably encoded in language. Take colors, for instance. […] Among English-speaking people, we distinguish pink as a separate color from red. In the Malaysian language (Bhasa Malay), however, there is no pink. There is only merah, red. […] Yet English does exactly the same thing. We have no equivalent of pink for the blue portion of the spectrum. If you are not content with the vagueness of ‘light blue,’ you have no choice but to get hyper-specific — ‘robin’s-egg blue,’ for instance. In other words, there’s a chromatic gap in our language just as big as the one in Malaysian. But if you’re like most native English speakers, you’ve probably never noticed it. In contrast, Russian speakers learning English notice it right away: Their language divides up our 'blue' into two colors, the paler goluboy and the darker siniy. What’s fascinating is that these distinctions are more than technicalities. They become hardwired into our brains. Neuroscientists have found that native Russian speakers are measurably faster at distinguishing dark-blue shades from lighter ones, presumably because, in their minds, the difference between goluboy and siniy is clear-cut.”
***
About the intelligence of animals: “Buffon ‘sailed as near the wind as was desirable,’ [Samuel] Butler explained, citing a passage from Histoire Naturelle that expressed one of Buffon’s more controversial ideas: that animals are not only intelligent, but in some important regards display an intelligence greater than ours. ‘Why do we find in the hole of the field-mouse enough acorns to keep him until the following summer?’ Buffon had written. ‘Why do we find such abundant store of honey and wax within the beehive? Why do ants store food? Why should birds make nests if they do not know that they will have need of them?’”
October 7, 2023
Could a single person possibly write an account of the entire Kingdom of Creation? To the man in Uppsala already attempting to do so, this did not read as hyperbole. Up until now Linnaeus had garnered critics, not competitors. Buffon had ample resources to command — his own fortune, his large staff of assistants and subordinates, and the prestige and backing of King Louis XIV. French naval officers now had standing orders to collect specimens for the Jardin during their voyages; all French physicians working abroad were strongly encouraged to submit specimens as well. Linnaeus had a significant head start, but Buffon could simply outwork him, fitting all the pieces together in a more consistent and logical manner.
Every Living Thing has everything I like going for it: It’s a well-written and fascinating history of those rarely-examined events that led to the society in which we find ourselves today. As it happened, both Carl Linnaeus in Sweden and Georges-Louis Leclerc, Comte de Buffon in France determined to name and categorise every living thing on Earth (after all, how many could there be if they could fit, in pairs, on the Biblical Ark?) in the mid-18th century, and each of them would go on to spend their entire lives in the effort. Author Jason Roberts weaves a compelling biography for each of these proto-biologists — they couldn’t have come from more different backgrounds, and Roberts has a clear favourite between them — and as their legacies unspool into the modern day, it’s discouraging (if not surprising) to learn why the lesser, more cumbersome/inaccurate system for categorisation became our standard. This is exactly to my tastes and I could not have asked for more. (Note: I read an ARC through NetGalley and passages quoted may not be in their final forms.)
In this new age of expansion, classification became another form of conquest. What better way to “civilize” a region than to inventory its flora and fauna, scouring them of native names and naming them anew? British naval ships, less burdened in peacetime, now had ample room for naturalists to accompany them on voyages. British citizens abroad, a rapidly growing colonial class, shipped thousands of specimens homeward. Seeing the value of aligning political interests with developments in natural history, the British government threw its support behind the Linnean Society.
I don’t think it’s necessary to recount here the biographies of Linnaeus and Buffon — other than to note that neither were good students, but while the former was poor and striving, the latter inherited lands and titles that afforded him the freedom to become a gentleman thinker; and when each of them found themselves in charge of public gardens, they separately had the inspiration to improve on the disorganised methods of naming plants and animals in their day — but it should be noted how restricted each of them were by the Church at the time. And while Linnaeus toed the line on Church thinking (regarding species as fixed since the day of Creation, not subject to evolution or extinction), Buffon — through observation and meditation — wrote of deep time, the natural process by which the solar system was created, the extinction evident in fossils (which Linnaeus dismissed as natural and coincidental rock formations), the obviousness of incremental evolution of species (including a common ancestor for primates; when Charles Darwin learned of Buffon’s writing over a century later, he remarked, “whole pages are laughably like mine”), the lamentable fact of human-driven environmental change, and despite very rudimentary microscopes at the time, he had ideas about cell theory, the ubiquity of single-celled organisms, and early musings on gene-like mechanisms. (But when he would write of such ideas, Buffon would then dismiss them in his next paragraph as contrary to revealed scripture and therefore absurd musings, quipping privately, “It is better to be humble than be hung.”)
It was Linnaeus who came up with the binomial naming standard for species which is still employed today, as well as the hierarchical kingdom-phylum-class-order-family-genus-species taxonomic system that we’re taught in school (even though, in his day, this nested-box system was dismissed by Buffon and others as cumbersome, unscientific, and not actually reflective of the relationships between species). Linnaeus was also the first to divide humanity in races (which Buffon also disputed as unscientific), ranking them in a hierarchy with Causasians (naturally for him) at the top. The history behind why Linnaeus’ system prevailed is a fascinating one (with colonialism and empire-building on the one hand and the French Revolution erasing the legacy of the ennobled on the other), but it’s even more fascinating to consider that we’re still clinging to this ever-more inefficient system to this day; a system so strict and moribund that while species are routinely moved around as genetic information proves relationship ties that weren’t obvious by mere observation in earlier times, there’s no process for changing the names of species — not even those misspelt when first officially recorded; not even those named after Hitler by Nazi scientists. The direct line proven between how we came to adopt this one system and the negative, and mostly unexamined, effects that this system has had on our society (even Lincoln was a Linnaean with racist beliefs that he thought were based on science) makes for the best kind of investigative nonfiction.
An NSF project called Dimensions of Biodiversity is using gene sequencing to identify species down to the microbial scale, and while it will take years for full results to emerge, project members already estimate the total number on Earth is more than twenty orders of magnitude greater than previously understood. “Until now, we haven’t known whether aspects of biodiversity scale with something as simple as the abundance of organisms,” reports Dr. Kenneth J. Locey, a postdoctorate fellow at Indiana University and a Dimensions of Biodiversity researcher. “As it turns out, the relationships are not only simple but powerful, resulting in the estimate of upwards of one trillion species.” One trillion species. That would mean we’ve discovered and recorded only one-thousandth of one percent of all possible entries in a catalogue of life.
In the end, not Linnaeus nor Buffon (nor any one person since Adam) could possibly have named every living thing on Earth; not the multitude of specimens sent to them by wide-ranging apostles, nor more particularly, the innumerous species not obvious to the naked eye (and by this I mean not only the microscopic or hidden deep ocean species, but also the fact that it took until genomic analysis in 2021 for us to realise that the “common giraffe” — named Giraffa camelopardelis in 1758 by Linnaeus himself — is actually four distinct species, “not only incapable of breeding with each other, but genetically distinct for at least a million years.” How could we have known that by physical examination — the Linnaean standard — alone?) On the other hand, this was the early days of the Enlightenment and both Linnaeus and Buffon laid the groundwork for what would become the modern field of biology; it seems a pity that of the two, it’s Linnaeus whose legacy is better known, but I am delighted that Roberts has written a book that aims to reclaim Buffon from the dustheap of history. I loved everything about this — from the narrative style to the small details and the overarching whole — and hope that it gets the audience and attention that it deserves.
June 20, 2025
Debo cultivar más el don de la paciencia para evitar estos desagradables equívocos. Si hubiera reflexionado un poco más antes de valorar este libro de seguro no luciría cuatro estrellas, tres a lo sumo; si hubiera reflexionado aún más, con suerte tendría dos. Pero no, con cuatro se va a quedar, y ahora voy a explicar por qué.
Todos los seres vivos se presenta como un díptico enfrentado, dos biografías de dos naturalistas contemporáneos con pretensiones y trayectorias muy similares que han dejado improntas en la ciencia muy diferentes: el primero, Carl Linneo, un héroe personal que, a su pesar, asentó las bases de la teoría de la evolución al diseñar el método sistemático y de nomenclatura binomial en virtud del cual todos los seres vivos pueden describirse, catalogarse y clasificarse; el otro, Georges Louis Leclerc, conde de Buffon, también creador de un ambicioso sistema mediante el cual abarcar la inmensidad de la diversidad de la vida que, sin embargo, se negaba a catalogar y clasificar lo que consideraba inabarcable e inclasificable. Linneo cambió la manera de entender la naturaleza, Buffon, en cambio, se convirtió en el primer divulgador científico; Buffon en vida fue una celebridad, una autoridad heterodoxa venerada dentro y fuera de Francia, en tanto Linneo malvivió la mayor parte de su vida y no fue sino muerto que su obra se convirtió en base científica y método establecido hasta nuestros días para ordenar y entender la naturaleza.
Sin embargo, Jason Roberts considera que la historia ha sido injusta y se erige como vindicador del naturalista francés. El biógrafo no escatimará esfuerzos en presentarnos al conde como un ser incomprendido desde que hiciera sus pinitos en la silvicultura experimental y al vicario frustrado con las galas más desagradables posibles. Roberts, ladino como abogado, presenta una sólida bibliografía como aval y demuestra que la verdad es un concepto flexible, que una vida puede ser una y muchas según la lente con que se la estudie; Roberts no miente, pero no es honesto.
La tesis de que Buffon nunca fue reconocido como el gran científico que era no es del todo cierta, pues no hay más que tomar cualquier manual científicos para advertir su nombre en varios párrafos, no solo limitados a la sistemática o la clasificación, también en la geología. Porque Buffon, como empirista recalcitrante, fue de los primeros en calcular de manera experimental la edad de la Tierra por el intuitivo método de medir el tiempo que tardaba en solidificarse una esfera de hierro fundido. Que no fuera reconocido tampoco se sostiene cuando su gran obra, Historia natural, fue un bestseller durante el siglo XVIII y XIX, y pocas eran las bibliotecas de los más importantes naturalistas que no contaran con varios de sus volúmenes. Esto, por supuesto, lo reconoce Roberts, aunque asume tácita e injustamente que la figura de divulgador científico está por debajo de la del científico. Creo que a cualquiera de los lectores de esta reseña le sonarán nombres como David Attenborough, Félix Rodríguez de la Fuente o Carl Sagan y coincidirán que su fama e influencia ha sido más significativa que la de muchos científicos contemporáneos. Sagan, además, no era solo un excelente divulgador, también un gran científico con importantes aportaciones a la astrofísica. Otro punto de su alegato es que la obra de Buffon era, en origen, mucho más atrevida y adelantada, pero que una serie de oscuras confabulaciones obligaron al autor a expurgarla. Esto, de nuevo, tampoco se sostiene, y es el mismo Roberts quien sabotea su argumentación. Es conocido que Buffon tenía ideas que se adelantaban en un siglo a las de Charles Darwin, de la misma forma en que las tenían el abuelo de éste, Erasmus Darwin, Maupertius o el naturalista español Félix de Azara, y Roberts señala cómo al propio Darwin, años después de publicada su teoría, se le llamó la atención al respecto y el mismo admitió. Es decir, estas ideas atrevidas, por silenciadas o censurada que estuvieran según Roberts, eran lo suficientemente accesibles al gran público como para suscitar una reflexión. Sin embargo, y esto es algo que olvida Roberts, una epifanía atrevida no es una hipótesis, ni mucho menos una teoría, y la teoría de evolución de Darwin es mucho más que un conjunto de ideas atrevidas. Pero eso ya es otra historia.
¿Y en que lugar deja a Linneo esta apología a Buffon? Como he dicho, este libro está construido como un díptico enfrentado y una reivindicación, por lo que si Buffon es el injusto olvidado, el Rocky de esta historia, Linneo tiene que ser el arrogante campeón, un Apollo Creed con la percha de Dolph Lundgren. De nuevo, la bibliografía que maneja Roberts nos asegura credibilidad y rigor, lo que leemos es lo que ocurrió y, sin embargo, no lo es. En un tiempo en que la botánica no existía más que como una disciplina adventicia de la medicina, Linneo no lo tuvo fácil a la hora de medrar, pero consiguió hacerse un gran nombre gracias a unos rudimentarios sistemas de clasificación que, con el tiempo, se convertiría en el sistema de clasificación con el que trabajan los biólogos a día de hoy. Estos primeros éxitos y su fama posterior le hizo arrogante, pecado imperdonable para el biógrafo tendencioso que sabe qué poner en primer plano. Para Roberts, Linneo es una figura desagradable, seguramente porque lo era; pero eso no demerita sus aportaciones científicas, y en una semblanza objetiva esta particularidad de carácter sería una anécdota, no la base sobre la que levantar una causa. Por cierto que, si debemos hablar cómo la egolatría de Linneo condujo a varios de sus seguidores, sus apóstoles, como los hacia llamar, tampoco debemos olvidar las limitaciones y dificultades que tenía tanto el botánico como la Universidad de Upsala para emprender expediciones científicas, limitaciones que el conde de Buffon no tenía, como podrán adivinar por la dignidad del título que ostentaba.
Lo que si es objetivamente cierto es que Buffon fue más famoso e influyente en vida que Linneo, y que éste lo fue mucho más que Buffon en la muerte ¿A qué se debe esto? Si desdeñamos las conspiraciones que tanto parecen gustar a Roberts, la realidad resulta ser mucho más prosaica. Roberts da lo que considera su estocada definitiva al sistema del sueco en los últimos capítulos, en los que, ya muertos ambos científicos, confronta sus obras con lo que ahora se sabe sobre sistemática y concluye que el sistema linneano se ha revelado como la elección equivocada y que fue Buffon quién confeccionó la mejor herramienta de clasificación. La ciencia retrospectiva, sin embargo, no es ciencia, y no explica por qué Linneo triunfó donde Buffon no. Linneo creo un sistema de clasificación util y manejable tan sencillo y flexible que permitía añadir mejoras para solventar sus muchas equivocaciones, en tanto que Buffon diseñó un sistema tan ambicioso como imposible de llevar a la práctica: Linneo quería catalogar la vida, por lo que tenía que reducirla a compartimentos estancos, Buffon, que solo veía la grandeza de la vida, se negaba a constreñirla. El sistema de clasificación de Buffon era excesivamente complejo, y lo que es peor, altamente mutable: solo lo entendía Buffon. El sistema linneano, si bien imperfecto, se mostró lo suficientemente flexible como para permitir su modificación posterior y necesaria, primero, a la luz de la evolución y, segundo, a la nueva definición de especie. Es esto, y no otra razón, lo que convierten a Linneo en un pilar de la ciencia y a Buffon uno de los muchas lumbreras que dan lustre a tan insigne institución.
Jason Roberts nos trae dos biografías interesantes y bien contextualizadas que, desafortunadamente, adolecen de una falta de rigor y honestidad por pretensiones espurias. Si Roberts se hubiera limitado en su ensayo a realizar un retrato y semblanza de una época, muy seguramente me hubiera mostrado más indulgente a la hora de juzgar tanto su resultado como sus intenciones. Sin embargo, nada me había preparado para lo que encontré en los últimos capítulos. Fue antes de llegar a ellos que coloqué precipitadamente estas cuatro estrellas, y fue tras su lectura y meditación que juzgue en libro bajo una nueva luz. Para todos aquellos que se animen a leer este ensayo les recomiendo encarecidamente que, luego de muerto Buffon, asuman que ya ha terminado y se queden con el buen saber de boca que da conocer la vida y obra de dos personajes singulares. Porque, si deciden adentrarse en las siguientes páginas, lo único que encontraran será una sarta de inexactitudes, errores históricos y científicos y manipulación directa de las fuentes, que te harán dudar de algo más que las intenciones del autor.
Todos los seres vivos se presenta como un díptico enfrentado, dos biografías de dos naturalistas contemporáneos con pretensiones y trayectorias muy similares que han dejado improntas en la ciencia muy diferentes: el primero, Carl Linneo, un héroe personal que, a su pesar, asentó las bases de la teoría de la evolución al diseñar el método sistemático y de nomenclatura binomial en virtud del cual todos los seres vivos pueden describirse, catalogarse y clasificarse; el otro, Georges Louis Leclerc, conde de Buffon, también creador de un ambicioso sistema mediante el cual abarcar la inmensidad de la diversidad de la vida que, sin embargo, se negaba a catalogar y clasificar lo que consideraba inabarcable e inclasificable. Linneo cambió la manera de entender la naturaleza, Buffon, en cambio, se convirtió en el primer divulgador científico; Buffon en vida fue una celebridad, una autoridad heterodoxa venerada dentro y fuera de Francia, en tanto Linneo malvivió la mayor parte de su vida y no fue sino muerto que su obra se convirtió en base científica y método establecido hasta nuestros días para ordenar y entender la naturaleza.
Sin embargo, Jason Roberts considera que la historia ha sido injusta y se erige como vindicador del naturalista francés. El biógrafo no escatimará esfuerzos en presentarnos al conde como un ser incomprendido desde que hiciera sus pinitos en la silvicultura experimental y al vicario frustrado con las galas más desagradables posibles. Roberts, ladino como abogado, presenta una sólida bibliografía como aval y demuestra que la verdad es un concepto flexible, que una vida puede ser una y muchas según la lente con que se la estudie; Roberts no miente, pero no es honesto.
La tesis de que Buffon nunca fue reconocido como el gran científico que era no es del todo cierta, pues no hay más que tomar cualquier manual científicos para advertir su nombre en varios párrafos, no solo limitados a la sistemática o la clasificación, también en la geología. Porque Buffon, como empirista recalcitrante, fue de los primeros en calcular de manera experimental la edad de la Tierra por el intuitivo método de medir el tiempo que tardaba en solidificarse una esfera de hierro fundido. Que no fuera reconocido tampoco se sostiene cuando su gran obra, Historia natural, fue un bestseller durante el siglo XVIII y XIX, y pocas eran las bibliotecas de los más importantes naturalistas que no contaran con varios de sus volúmenes. Esto, por supuesto, lo reconoce Roberts, aunque asume tácita e injustamente que la figura de divulgador científico está por debajo de la del científico. Creo que a cualquiera de los lectores de esta reseña le sonarán nombres como David Attenborough, Félix Rodríguez de la Fuente o Carl Sagan y coincidirán que su fama e influencia ha sido más significativa que la de muchos científicos contemporáneos. Sagan, además, no era solo un excelente divulgador, también un gran científico con importantes aportaciones a la astrofísica. Otro punto de su alegato es que la obra de Buffon era, en origen, mucho más atrevida y adelantada, pero que una serie de oscuras confabulaciones obligaron al autor a expurgarla. Esto, de nuevo, tampoco se sostiene, y es el mismo Roberts quien sabotea su argumentación. Es conocido que Buffon tenía ideas que se adelantaban en un siglo a las de Charles Darwin, de la misma forma en que las tenían el abuelo de éste, Erasmus Darwin, Maupertius o el naturalista español Félix de Azara, y Roberts señala cómo al propio Darwin, años después de publicada su teoría, se le llamó la atención al respecto y el mismo admitió. Es decir, estas ideas atrevidas, por silenciadas o censurada que estuvieran según Roberts, eran lo suficientemente accesibles al gran público como para suscitar una reflexión. Sin embargo, y esto es algo que olvida Roberts, una epifanía atrevida no es una hipótesis, ni mucho menos una teoría, y la teoría de evolución de Darwin es mucho más que un conjunto de ideas atrevidas. Pero eso ya es otra historia.
¿Y en que lugar deja a Linneo esta apología a Buffon? Como he dicho, este libro está construido como un díptico enfrentado y una reivindicación, por lo que si Buffon es el injusto olvidado, el Rocky de esta historia, Linneo tiene que ser el arrogante campeón, un Apollo Creed con la percha de Dolph Lundgren. De nuevo, la bibliografía que maneja Roberts nos asegura credibilidad y rigor, lo que leemos es lo que ocurrió y, sin embargo, no lo es. En un tiempo en que la botánica no existía más que como una disciplina adventicia de la medicina, Linneo no lo tuvo fácil a la hora de medrar, pero consiguió hacerse un gran nombre gracias a unos rudimentarios sistemas de clasificación que, con el tiempo, se convertiría en el sistema de clasificación con el que trabajan los biólogos a día de hoy. Estos primeros éxitos y su fama posterior le hizo arrogante, pecado imperdonable para el biógrafo tendencioso que sabe qué poner en primer plano. Para Roberts, Linneo es una figura desagradable, seguramente porque lo era; pero eso no demerita sus aportaciones científicas, y en una semblanza objetiva esta particularidad de carácter sería una anécdota, no la base sobre la que levantar una causa. Por cierto que, si debemos hablar cómo la egolatría de Linneo condujo a varios de sus seguidores, sus apóstoles, como los hacia llamar, tampoco debemos olvidar las limitaciones y dificultades que tenía tanto el botánico como la Universidad de Upsala para emprender expediciones científicas, limitaciones que el conde de Buffon no tenía, como podrán adivinar por la dignidad del título que ostentaba.
Lo que si es objetivamente cierto es que Buffon fue más famoso e influyente en vida que Linneo, y que éste lo fue mucho más que Buffon en la muerte ¿A qué se debe esto? Si desdeñamos las conspiraciones que tanto parecen gustar a Roberts, la realidad resulta ser mucho más prosaica. Roberts da lo que considera su estocada definitiva al sistema del sueco en los últimos capítulos, en los que, ya muertos ambos científicos, confronta sus obras con lo que ahora se sabe sobre sistemática y concluye que el sistema linneano se ha revelado como la elección equivocada y que fue Buffon quién confeccionó la mejor herramienta de clasificación. La ciencia retrospectiva, sin embargo, no es ciencia, y no explica por qué Linneo triunfó donde Buffon no. Linneo creo un sistema de clasificación util y manejable tan sencillo y flexible que permitía añadir mejoras para solventar sus muchas equivocaciones, en tanto que Buffon diseñó un sistema tan ambicioso como imposible de llevar a la práctica: Linneo quería catalogar la vida, por lo que tenía que reducirla a compartimentos estancos, Buffon, que solo veía la grandeza de la vida, se negaba a constreñirla. El sistema de clasificación de Buffon era excesivamente complejo, y lo que es peor, altamente mutable: solo lo entendía Buffon. El sistema linneano, si bien imperfecto, se mostró lo suficientemente flexible como para permitir su modificación posterior y necesaria, primero, a la luz de la evolución y, segundo, a la nueva definición de especie. Es esto, y no otra razón, lo que convierten a Linneo en un pilar de la ciencia y a Buffon uno de los muchas lumbreras que dan lustre a tan insigne institución.
Jason Roberts nos trae dos biografías interesantes y bien contextualizadas que, desafortunadamente, adolecen de una falta de rigor y honestidad por pretensiones espurias. Si Roberts se hubiera limitado en su ensayo a realizar un retrato y semblanza de una época, muy seguramente me hubiera mostrado más indulgente a la hora de juzgar tanto su resultado como sus intenciones. Sin embargo, nada me había preparado para lo que encontré en los últimos capítulos. Fue antes de llegar a ellos que coloqué precipitadamente estas cuatro estrellas, y fue tras su lectura y meditación que juzgue en libro bajo una nueva luz. Para todos aquellos que se animen a leer este ensayo les recomiendo encarecidamente que, luego de muerto Buffon, asuman que ya ha terminado y se queden con el buen saber de boca que da conocer la vida y obra de dos personajes singulares. Porque, si deciden adentrarse en las siguientes páginas, lo único que encontraran será una sarta de inexactitudes, errores históricos y científicos y manipulación directa de las fuentes, que te harán dudar de algo más que las intenciones del autor.
June 24, 2024
It’s time to throw in the towel. I made it five hours in and even with listening to it at 1.5 speed it’s incredibly boring and dry. Yikes, I don’t care about these two old guys and their lives. I wanted it to be more about the nature of science and the problem with idolizing certain figures. But this was just about random nonsense from Linnaeus’s biography. I feel like I already heard about every single day of his life and I’m only 33% through. How are there so many five star reviews of this book? Who wants to hear that much about one guy’s life, especially when it’s not marketed as a biography? I just had no idea people would be so into this. I am pretty nerdy when it comes to animals, biology, history and even classification but even so it’s boring. I just didn’t get it. I could see it going somewhere if it decided to do more analysis on how this impacted science and the role of bias in science, but it won’t. I really feel like these science books are either one of my favorite books ever or completely dry and terrible. Too bad this was the latter.
May 26, 2024
Every Living Thing is a well-researched and that rarer thing -- a finely written science book. Really, it falls somewhere between science and biography. It is a double narrative about two savants of the C18 -- Linnaeus and Buffon -- and how they sought to categorise Creation. This was not an easy task for the simple reason that the upholders of Creation disagreed with scientific findings. As characters, Linnaeus and Buffon were chalk and cheese. Linnaeus had no doubts about his genius and Buffon was certain that he preferred plants to humans. Whereas Linnaeus created Acolytes to hunt for specimens, usually with fatal consequence, and invariably put his own interests first, Buffon was keen to encourage others: at a time when women had no place in science, he appointed Madeleine Françoise Basseporte as painter in residence at Louis XIV's garden. Roberts writes with wicked wit for most of the book. It does, however, flag in the final part because characterisation disappears (both Linnaeus and Buffon were dead by the C19) and the author provides a rather lacklustre account of Evolution via Agassiz, Darwin, and Huxley. Every Living Thing offers many wonderful insights into the Enlightenment and the workings of the human mind.
October 9, 2023
Every Living Thing by Jason Roberts is a book that compares and contrasts Carl Linnaeus' and Georges-Louis de Buffon's approach to discovering all life on Earth. The book also covers how the study of biology progressed after their deaths, overall showing their great effect on the science.
I think this book is phenomenal. It is written is a very easy to understand way, with some helpful pictures. I particularly like how Roberts arranged the book, it was easy to keep up with the two separate people, and what they were doing at the time. Also, a great emphasis was placed on noting what ideas still exist to this day, incorporating their influences on modern biology throughout the book instead of just as a conclusion. Unusually, a significant portion of the end of the book continued to document important discoveries, such as Darwin's evolution and Mendel's genes. It was interesting to fully know how biology has progressed since their time, and how it continues to progress. Several other subjects were discussed, such as how racism and Christianity were affected these findings. Overall, Every Living Thing covered an impressive amount, in an understandable and fascinating way.
I would recommend this book to anyone looking to learn about the history of the study of biology, or who want an introduction to it.
Thank you to Random House for this ARC on NetGalley.
I think this book is phenomenal. It is written is a very easy to understand way, with some helpful pictures. I particularly like how Roberts arranged the book, it was easy to keep up with the two separate people, and what they were doing at the time. Also, a great emphasis was placed on noting what ideas still exist to this day, incorporating their influences on modern biology throughout the book instead of just as a conclusion. Unusually, a significant portion of the end of the book continued to document important discoveries, such as Darwin's evolution and Mendel's genes. It was interesting to fully know how biology has progressed since their time, and how it continues to progress. Several other subjects were discussed, such as how racism and Christianity were affected these findings. Overall, Every Living Thing covered an impressive amount, in an understandable and fascinating way.
I would recommend this book to anyone looking to learn about the history of the study of biology, or who want an introduction to it.
Thank you to Random House for this ARC on NetGalley.
April 29, 2024
Through the dual biography of two rival founding scientists of the natural sciences, we learn about the history, politics, philosophy, biology and religious ideas that still shape how we understand ourselves, animals and plants around us.
I was astounded by the breadth and depth of this book- starting with the early 1700s and going forward til today, informing not only the birth of taxonomy but even the understanding of evolution, the development of racism as we know it today, genetics, and more.
There are a lot of names you've heard of like Linnaeus and Darwin, but also many like Buffon, who's contributions are largely lost to the popular imagination. In all cases, readers learn so much about these people and their times, which makes their groundbreaking research even more interesting.
This book reminded me of one of my all time favorite books- Naming Nature: The Clash Between Instinct and Science by Carol Kaesuk Yoon. Both elucidate the enormous, impossible task of trying to order the word and all living beings in it, and ask whether it's possible to build a system like this without bias. These are matters close to my heart as a nature lover and librarian.
I was astounded by the breadth and depth of this book- starting with the early 1700s and going forward til today, informing not only the birth of taxonomy but even the understanding of evolution, the development of racism as we know it today, genetics, and more.
There are a lot of names you've heard of like Linnaeus and Darwin, but also many like Buffon, who's contributions are largely lost to the popular imagination. In all cases, readers learn so much about these people and their times, which makes their groundbreaking research even more interesting.
This book reminded me of one of my all time favorite books- Naming Nature: The Clash Between Instinct and Science by Carol Kaesuk Yoon. Both elucidate the enormous, impossible task of trying to order the word and all living beings in it, and ask whether it's possible to build a system like this without bias. These are matters close to my heart as a nature lover and librarian.
January 6, 2025
A deeply informative, but somewhat dry history of taxonomy, along with biographical detail on all major figures. There are relevant side trips down several roads, such as where theories of evolution and genetics crossed paths with taxonomy. And, alas, occasions when science championed the most vile racism. It happened, there's no point in looking the other way.
May 2, 2024
Every Living Thing By Jason Roberts took me longer to read than the average genre of book I devour, but only because it was so intriguing and I wanted to make sure I absorbed every meticulously-researched detail. I'm sort of a trivia nerd and was even able to answer a final Jeopardy answer with the knowledge imparted upon me from this book!
These are the stories of two 18th century scientific rivals, Carl Linnaeus and Georges-Louis de Buffon, who dedicated their lives to identifying and describing all life on Earth, and the impact of their discoveries that extends across three centuries into the present day.
Jason Roberts does a great job simultaneously telling the separate stories of both men on their life's journey with detail and understanding into their scientific reasonings, ideas, and classifications. How these men gave us concepts such as mammal, primate and homo sapiens and introduced the term reproduction, formulated prototypes for genetics and evolution, but also how those choices have impacted or progressed today's world views on such matters in the scientific communities. He even touches on humanity's old and prejudiced classifications of self and the development of racist pseudo-science views that spewed from these misrepresentations.
It was interesting how he tied everything together to help the reader make correlations between past and present. I particularly liked the ending and they way he incorporated more recent discoveries, such as multiple species identification with giraffes, to show how far we have come and how far we still must go to understanding every living thing.
These are the stories of two 18th century scientific rivals, Carl Linnaeus and Georges-Louis de Buffon, who dedicated their lives to identifying and describing all life on Earth, and the impact of their discoveries that extends across three centuries into the present day.
Jason Roberts does a great job simultaneously telling the separate stories of both men on their life's journey with detail and understanding into their scientific reasonings, ideas, and classifications. How these men gave us concepts such as mammal, primate and homo sapiens and introduced the term reproduction, formulated prototypes for genetics and evolution, but also how those choices have impacted or progressed today's world views on such matters in the scientific communities. He even touches on humanity's old and prejudiced classifications of self and the development of racist pseudo-science views that spewed from these misrepresentations.
It was interesting how he tied everything together to help the reader make correlations between past and present. I particularly liked the ending and they way he incorporated more recent discoveries, such as multiple species identification with giraffes, to show how far we have come and how far we still must go to understanding every living thing.
July 7, 2024
Love this book. Review to come.
February 29, 2024
A compelling parallel biography. I guess everyone heard about Linnaeus in school, and those of us interested in the history of science are familiar with Buffon - but reading this book made me realize how little I knew about both of them and their attempts to organize the natural world. So I learned a lot, but also had a lot of fun, because it is very well written and surprisingly entertaining.
It is impressive how many written sources exist about the lives of these two characters, but I was equally impressed with how the author drew on them. He has an eye for interesting details, but does not overload the pages with too much dry information. As a result, it reads like a novel, or at least like narrative non-fiction.
Thanks to the publisher, Random House, and NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book.
It is impressive how many written sources exist about the lives of these two characters, but I was equally impressed with how the author drew on them. He has an eye for interesting details, but does not overload the pages with too much dry information. As a result, it reads like a novel, or at least like narrative non-fiction.
Thanks to the publisher, Random House, and NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book.
May 26, 2025
Jason Roberts te engaña. Al empezar el libro estás leyendo una novela histórica sobre el pique científico de dos hombres que se proponen clasificar a todos los seres vivos y crear la zoología por el camino y al terminar acabas enganchado a una obra de divulgación biológica de la que no puedes despegarte.
Posiblemente me hubiera llamado mucho menos la atención una obra que se postulara como un ensayo meramente divulgativo y por eso tengo que darle las gracias al autor por engañarme. Este es un libro fascinante.
En esta lectura vas a descubrir cómo ha surgido, en líneas generales, la clasificación humana actual de los seres vivos, por qué nada de lo que proponemos está funcionando y por qué posiblemente nunca vayamos a conseguir que funcione. Una ejemplificación perfecta del ideal: deja a tu audiencia con más preguntas que respuestas.
Posiblemente me hubiera llamado mucho menos la atención una obra que se postulara como un ensayo meramente divulgativo y por eso tengo que darle las gracias al autor por engañarme. Este es un libro fascinante.
En esta lectura vas a descubrir cómo ha surgido, en líneas generales, la clasificación humana actual de los seres vivos, por qué nada de lo que proponemos está funcionando y por qué posiblemente nunca vayamos a conseguir que funcione. Una ejemplificación perfecta del ideal: deja a tu audiencia con más preguntas que respuestas.
November 9, 2023
As someone who enjoys a good nonfiction book, I will admit my knowledge of “older” history is not great so I was excited to see a book on more of the history of science. If I had known anything previously on the rivalry of Buffon and Linnaeus, i completely lost it. I enjoyed how this book brought their stories together and compared and contrasted them! The book is well written and is set up in a way that is very story like and not boring history.
I received a free advanced copy of this book through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
I received a free advanced copy of this book through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
May 31, 2024
Fascinating take on the history of important developments in science and how religion and worldview played a part in what the two protagonists learned – and were willing to learn. Buffon is an unsung hero and this book makes me feel collective chagrin that Linnaeus is so much more well known today.
February 19, 2025
Much more technical then the merely curious reader will appreciate. The details of classification, past and present, overshadow any of the human story here.
December 23, 2024
I have mixed feelings about this book, a comparative biography of Carl Linnaeus and George-Louis Leclerc de Buffon, contemporaries who never met who were in a “race” to classify all living things and other tertiary sciences like geology, and the consequential legacies they left. I became aware of it through an episode of the BBC podcast History Extra which, in turn, spurred me to purchase it. But much as a child let down by the reality of Christmas because it can never live up to the anticipation, the book did not add much to the podcast. Indeed, after listening to the podcast again, it makes the case the book does, but much more succinctly and accessible.
One thing that stood out in the podcast as compared to the book were the questions raised by Roberts about the legacy of Linnaeus’s rather glib, pithy, and wrong comments in classifying human life into four arbitrary classes. He addresses it in the book, but as a list of differences, not as a central point. I think he missed a huge opportunity. (I’ll write more about this in coming weeks on my Substack and will link to it here when the time comes.) For example, when Roberts writes:
But that may well be my problem. Roberts’s book does have interesting stories, reminding the reader of how things once considered to be existential somehow lose their luster while remaining as consequential as ever.
One thing that stood out in the podcast as compared to the book were the questions raised by Roberts about the legacy of Linnaeus’s rather glib, pithy, and wrong comments in classifying human life into four arbitrary classes. He addresses it in the book, but as a list of differences, not as a central point. I think he missed a huge opportunity. (I’ll write more about this in coming weeks on my Substack and will link to it here when the time comes.) For example, when Roberts writes:
Declaring just four varieties of humans (or subspecies; Linnaeus was never clear on the matter) was to Buffon an error of the highest magnitude. To affix inherent attributes to them was repugnant.one might expect a more detailed discussion about what made “affix[ing] inherent attributes” so “repugnant.” Instead it was inferred, almost as if a thorough delving into the assertion made might be too controversial, forced to use uncomfortable language, or reopen festering wounds. But that should be the point, I think, about the importance of writing about such a potentially divisive historical fact. It’s the least understood topic that everyone has an opinion about – vocal or not – and the fact that it may be grounded in a seemingly flippant, overly biased categorization in an academic book is worthy of a lengthy treatise in and of itself.
But that may well be my problem. Roberts’s book does have interesting stories, reminding the reader of how things once considered to be existential somehow lose their luster while remaining as consequential as ever.
March 9, 2025
So well done. It took me a sec to get fully locked in but once I was I was LOCKED IN. The contrast between Linnaeus and Buffon is so interesting and well documented and the various disciples of their schools of thought are also very interesting to hear about. Also it’s crazy how much the public perception around the concepts had changed as the years progressed!
November 10, 2024
Roberts is a very good storyteller. The book was engaging throughout, and sometimes so entertaining or outlandish I wondered if the author was exaggerating, just like Linnaeus was inclined to do.
As an evolutionary biology student hoping to practice plenty of taxonomy in her career, I felt that this book gave me a really good understanding of the history behind the systems we use today, and reminded me not to simply accept what is traditional when it comes to scientific perspectives, but remember that there is more than one way to see everything.
As an evolutionary biology student hoping to practice plenty of taxonomy in her career, I felt that this book gave me a really good understanding of the history behind the systems we use today, and reminded me not to simply accept what is traditional when it comes to scientific perspectives, but remember that there is more than one way to see everything.
September 15, 2024
Interesting subject, but dragged too long.
March 15, 2025
Every Living Thing is essential reading for anyone interested in the history of science and our understanding of the natural world, but at times is weighted down by an overly ambitious agenda. A major part of the book is an engaging dual biography of Carl Linnaeus, the founder of the standard system for the classification of all biological organisms, and his contemporary, George-Louis de Buffon, the brilliant and preeminent French natural historian whose extensive published works anticipated our later understanding of evolution, the formation and geological age of the Earth, and genetics. In contrast to Buffon, who embraced an objective and complex view of life in the best spirit of the 18th century enlightenment, Linnaeus sought to impose an artificial system marred by numerous errors and prejudices and based on the idea that species were immutably fixed. Among the more striking of the many unsavory aspects of Linnaeus’ biography that are related was his cruel exploitation of his student disciples sent on ill supported and fatal collecting expeditions. The book goes on to interestingly describe how the French Revolution set in motion a process whereby Linnaeus and his system were elevated by populist cultural forces into a position of reverence while the aristocratic Buffon’s seminal work was obscured, and how their successors in the biological sciences affected their legacy and our understanding of the world. This is a very worthwhile read but be forewarned that the shifts from the Linnaeus to Buffon narratives can cause a lack of focus and the author towards the end seems to overstate the case against any organizing system as an aid to understanding the natural world.
August 1, 2024
I loved this book! There’s only two reasons why this didn’t get five: one was that at one point the book claims that the book of Revelations is in the Old Testament (it’s in the New Testament) and the fact that they didn’t bring up Social Darwinism even though it was very relevant to the subject matter. Those are two things, maybe a bit nitpicky to lose a whole star, but those are my reasons.
Regardless, this book was really fascinating. If this topic interests you at all, by all means, give it a go. Also towards the end I learned about insane examples of biology. For example the book mentions five species of salamanders in the Ambystomia genus that reproduces and “borrows genes” from one another yet they are distinctive species. Then you’ve got life forms like the tree mold Physarum polycephalum that is basically a large, single cell organism that is intelligent and has been proven to have a memory despite no central nervous system. The book goes into more detail on that on pages 357-358 if you’re curious.
Also I don’t normally comment on the cover of a book but I will do so here. Firstly, the cover art is beautiful, but reading the book makes me appreciate the cover art all the more. I love that it has a sense of humor since it shows a sheep growing from a plant, the seven headed hydra, and the geese that hatch from barnacles that grow on trees (yes, people used to believe that those all existed!) I also love that the platypus is on the cover too because it confused European scientists for decades since they discovered it and I find that hilarious and it makes the platypus more endearing imo.
Anyway, end of very long review. Highly recommend.
Regardless, this book was really fascinating. If this topic interests you at all, by all means, give it a go. Also towards the end I learned about insane examples of biology. For example the book mentions five species of salamanders in the Ambystomia genus that reproduces and “borrows genes” from one another yet they are distinctive species. Then you’ve got life forms like the tree mold Physarum polycephalum that is basically a large, single cell organism that is intelligent and has been proven to have a memory despite no central nervous system. The book goes into more detail on that on pages 357-358 if you’re curious.
Also I don’t normally comment on the cover of a book but I will do so here. Firstly, the cover art is beautiful, but reading the book makes me appreciate the cover art all the more. I love that it has a sense of humor since it shows a sheep growing from a plant, the seven headed hydra, and the geese that hatch from barnacles that grow on trees (yes, people used to believe that those all existed!) I also love that the platypus is on the cover too because it confused European scientists for decades since they discovered it and I find that hilarious and it makes the platypus more endearing imo.
Anyway, end of very long review. Highly recommend.
June 26, 2025
"Todos los seres vivos", la más reciente obra de Jason Roberts publicada por Taurus en octubre de 2024 y galardonada con el Premio Pulitzer 2025 de Biografía, ofrece un cautivador recorrido por la historia natural a través de las vidas de Carl Linneo y George Louis Buffon. Linneo, un medico sueco y muy religioso, creyó que la clasificación debía responder a categorías ordenadas y estáticas. Mientras Buffon, aristócrata francés y con un gran conocimiento en las ciencias y humanidades veía la vida como un remolino dinámico y complejo. Y en ese desencuentro y rivalidad el autor no solo destaca sus contribuciones a la biología, sino que también ilustra las aventuras y desafíos surgidos de sus innovaciones, reflejando el impacto duradero de sus legados.
La prosa muy detallada y evocadora de Roberts sumerge al lector en una narrativa rica que conecta a estos naturalistas con sus seguidores, mostrando cómo sus ideas transformaron la comprensión de la biodiversidad y el lugar del ser humano en ella. Además, se aborda la relación entre el conocimiento científico y las implicaciones éticas de la exploración natural, presentando logros y fracasos que invitan a la reflexión sobre la responsabilidad en el descubrimiento.
En resumen, "Todos los seres vivos" trasciende la biografía, es un libro hermoso y llenos de detalles que invita a apreciar la interconexión de la vida y de todos los seres que conforman el planeta.
La prosa muy detallada y evocadora de Roberts sumerge al lector en una narrativa rica que conecta a estos naturalistas con sus seguidores, mostrando cómo sus ideas transformaron la comprensión de la biodiversidad y el lugar del ser humano en ella. Además, se aborda la relación entre el conocimiento científico y las implicaciones éticas de la exploración natural, presentando logros y fracasos que invitan a la reflexión sobre la responsabilidad en el descubrimiento.
En resumen, "Todos los seres vivos" trasciende la biografía, es un libro hermoso y llenos de detalles que invita a apreciar la interconexión de la vida y de todos los seres que conforman el planeta.
January 9, 2025
Niin hieno kirja, opin paljon mm. tieteellisen rasismin historiasta, uskonnon vaikutuksesta tieteen kehitykseen jne. Pani jälleen miettimään ihmisen tarvetta lokeroida, tässä tapauksessa luontoa ja kuinka se osoittautuu jossain määrin mahdottomaksi. Kirjailijalla oli tavallaan aika selkeä asenne, mutta nykytiedon valossa se oli musta ihan perusteltua. Lopussa pakka vähän hajoaa kun käydään 1800-luvun alusta nykyhetkeen vajaassa sadassa sivussa. (Tää oli musta joka tapauksessa tärkeä lisä, jotta saatiin vähän kontekstia.)🌟🌟🌟🌟
August 24, 2024
This book is kind of like the theories it describes. Huge and unwieldy, but ultimately bringing together as best it can the history of the biological sciences, especially the attempt at classification of species by Linnaeus and Buffon. It’s fantastic and worth slogging through the more detailed parts that don’t seem as interesting but which provide necessary building blocks to the story as a whole.
February 19, 2025
Have listened to this book as audible audio book.
Really great choice to read if you are into in Natural History. Found out a lot of stupendous facts about both main characters and about historical context. Book goes much further and also briefly covers later events like theory of evolution, scientific history of racism, scientific commpains against racism during WW2, genetics and etc.
It was really long listen, but I fully enjoyed it whole.
Really great choice to read if you are into in Natural History. Found out a lot of stupendous facts about both main characters and about historical context. Book goes much further and also briefly covers later events like theory of evolution, scientific history of racism, scientific commpains against racism during WW2, genetics and etc.
It was really long listen, but I fully enjoyed it whole.
August 28, 2024
Good.
December 24, 2024
Really cool info but super slow...
January 8, 2025
La verdadera y única ciencia es el conocimiento de los hechos.
July 5, 2025
Dit boek gaat over de tegenstellingen tussen Carl Linnaeus en Georges de Buffon, hun verwezenlijkingen, hun machinaties, hun tijd en hun nalatenschap.
Ik was verbaasd over hoe ver de Buffon vooruit was op zijn tijd, en hoe weinig ver de geneeskunde stond in de 18e eeuw.
Hoe wetenschap staat of valt met het doorzettingsvermogen van een enkeling, maar ook de gevaren daarvan.
Hoe de nagedachtenis kan evolueren in de tijd.
Hoeveel invloed Linnaeus had op racistische ideeën en op de Franse revolutie.
Hoe een rijke wetenschapper toch beter werk aflevert dan een armlastige.
Het boek verliest wat samenhang na het overlijden van de twee hoofdpersonages, maar het eind was weer heel sterk
Ik was verbaasd over hoe ver de Buffon vooruit was op zijn tijd, en hoe weinig ver de geneeskunde stond in de 18e eeuw.
Hoe wetenschap staat of valt met het doorzettingsvermogen van een enkeling, maar ook de gevaren daarvan.
Hoe de nagedachtenis kan evolueren in de tijd.
Hoeveel invloed Linnaeus had op racistische ideeën en op de Franse revolutie.
Hoe een rijke wetenschapper toch beter werk aflevert dan een armlastige.
Het boek verliest wat samenhang na het overlijden van de twee hoofdpersonages, maar het eind was weer heel sterk
August 10, 2025
This book was amazing!! I am dumbfounded to think how much original source material the author had to find, read, and digest to create this detailed narrative of a fundamental component of the study of living things—naming, describing, and understanding the relationships among all of them. Truly, this work deserves awards and accolades aplenty! Whether you are a professional biologist or a serious and curious naturalist, this book will have much of interest to you. It is superbly written and, as I said, impeccably researched. I give it the same stellar status as as I did Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass and Jonathan Slaght’s Owls of the Eastern Ice.
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