William J. Broad is a best-selling author and a senior writer at The New York Times. In more than thirty years as a science journalist, he has written hundreds of front-page articles and won every major journalistic award in print and film. His reporting shows unusual depth and breadth—everything from exploding stars and the secret life of marine mammals to the spread of nuclear arms and why the Titanic sank so fast. The Best American Science Writing, a yearly anthology, has twice featured his work.
He joined The Times in 1983 and before that worked in Washington for Science, the magazine of the American Association for the Advancement of Science.
Broad has won two Pulitzer Prizes with Times colleagues, as well as an Emmy and a DuPont. He won the Pulitzers for coverage of the space shuttle Challenger disaster and the feasibility of antimissile arms. In 2002, he won the Emmy (PBS Nova) for a documentary that detailed the threat of germ terrorism. He was a Pulitzer finalist in 2005 for articles written with Times colleague David E. Sanger on nuclear proliferation. In 2007, he shared a DuPont Award (The Discovery Channel) from the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism for the television documentary, Nuclear Jihad: Can Terrorists Get the Bomb?
Broad is the author or co-author of eight books, most recently The Science of Yoga: The Risks and the Rewards (Simon & Schuster, 2012), a New York Times bestseller. His books have been translated into dozens of languages. His other titles include Germs: Biological Weapons and America's Secret War (Simon & Schuster, 2001), a number-one New York Times bestseller; The Universe Below: Discovering the Secrets of the Deep Sea (Simon & Schuster, 1997); Teller's War: The Top-Secret Story Behind the Star Wars Deception (Simon & Schuster, 1992); and Betrayers of the Truth: Fraud and Deceit in the Halls of Science (Simon & Schuster, 1982).
Broad's reporting has taken him to Paris and Vienna, Brazil and Ecuador, Kiev and Kazakhstan. In December 1991, he was among the last Westerners to see the Soviet hammer and sickle flying over the Kremlin.
Broad's media appearances include Larry King Live, The Charlie Rose Show, The Discovery Channel, Nova, The History Channel, and National Public Radio. His speaking engagements have ranged from the U.S. Navy in Washington, to the Knickerbocker Club in New York, to the Monterey Aquarium in California. He has also given talks at the Corcoran Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. and the Council on Foreign Relations in New York City.
Broad earned a master's degree in the history of science from the University of Wisconsin at Madison. He has three adult children and lives with his wife in the New York metropolitan area.
Broad knows what's up with missile defense. As the New York Times science correspondent during the 80s, he was close to many of the principles in various stabs at Star Wars during the Reagan administration. The prime mover was Edward Teller, father of the hydrogen bomb, founder of Lawrence Livermore National Lab, and the conservative doyen of nuclear scientific clientage. For all his successes, Teller had a checkered record as a scientist. The mainstream academic community had turned against him in the 1950s over his betrayal of Oppenheimer during the Red Scare. He hadn't made a major scientific contribution on the order of his Manhattan Project peers. And the public regarded him as a Dr. Strangelove-esque madman who's plans for peaceful hydrogen bombs had come to nothing.
In this climate, Teller grabbed onto the scientifically advanced bomb-pumped X-Ray laser as a way to defeat the Soviet nuclear arsenal, shield America from mutually assured destruction, and ensure his place in the history books. Theoretically, the X-ray laser could amplify an H-bomb into beams of coherent light billions of times brighter than the blast itself, shooting 100,000s of independently targetable beams at a nuclear strike. Theoretically. Engineering this thing would be a nightmare, as the whole apparatus existed for only a nanosecond next to an exploding hydrogen bomb.
Teller's optimism, vision, and passion were his greatest assets as a scientific leader, but in this case they lead to his downfall, as Teller oversold Reagan on the potential of the X-ray laser. The narrative mostly follows Roy Woodruff, the nuclear scientist in charge of the X-ray laser program, and his attempts to properly inform the Reagan administration and the public about the serious limits and uncertainties around Star Wars in the face of Teller's PR campaign and scorched earth bureaucratic warfare.
The story of Star Wars is bigger than just Teller and Woodruff, but Broad's framing is essentially correct, and provides a gripping and technically accurate account of some of the most fraught science politics in recent memory.
The first paragraph on the first page of the author's Prologue provides a great explanation of what this nonfiction, documentary-style book is about. I am quoting it in its entirety, as I would never be able to produce such an apt and concise summary:
At age 70, after a career in which he begat the hydrogen bomb and the most feared laboratory on earth for the design of nuclear arms, using them to battle the Communist bloc for a quarter century, Edward Teller longed for a final accomplishment. His chance came in the 1980s. Filled with determination, at times shaking with excitement, Teller threw himself into a bid for what he was sure would be his ultimate success. The result, however, was no triumph. Over the protest of colleagues, Teller misled the highest officials of the United States government on a critical issue of national security, paving the way for a multibillion-dollar deception in which a dream of peace concealed the most dangerous military program of all time.
I used to be greatly interested in the topic, as in the 1980s I co-taught an honors course titled Games, Weapons, Morals, focused on the arms race and balance of nuclear powers (I was responsible for the first segment of the course—the mathematical, game-theoretic aspects of the arms race). Having now read William J. Broad's book, I can only be embarrassed by how much I did not know then. The book, written in 1993, provides an enormous wealth of information about the Strategic Defense Initiative, X-ray lasers, the Brilliant Pebbles program, various related topics, and, of course, about Dr. Teller's role in the events.
William J. Broad does his best to be objective in his opinions about people's actions. He clearly explains the political background of the events and always tries to make sure that all his criticisms of Dr. Teller are strongly grounded in existing references. The book is exceptionally well researched: 24 small-font pages of references (the author provides sources for 729 statements) plus 10 small-font pages of bibliography. So, while the meticulous attention to detail greatly enhances the believability of the author's message, it makes for quite difficult reading, which explains my three-star rating.
Inventing Accuracy deals with steady progress leading to greater technical achievements in missile guidance, while Teller's War is about a string of somewhat disconnected missile defense projects that led nowhere (or nowhere near their advertised goal at least) all championed by Edward Teller.
The x-ray laser is the most prominent project promoted by Teller, where a nuclear bomb exploded in space would excite long rods of metal packed around the bomb, producing x-ray lasers that would destroy enemy missiles hundreds or thousands of miles away. Teller claimed that given enough rods, a single bomb could wipe the sky clean of launched Soviet missiles.
The book doesn't address the technical problem of aiming a few or thousands of rods simultaneously (there is only a small instant available before the bomb destroys the laser elements). It's likely no one ever got to that point because the laser itself never became feasible as a weapon.
I'm curious whether any research continues in this area (probably at a vastly reduced budget)- maybe with higher fidelity computer simulations or the use of conventional lasers to simulate nuclear explosions?
Larry Niven's Footfall (from 1985 near the height of the x-ray laser's prominence) features the the use of nuclear pumped x-ray laser against alien spacecraft.
This book has the misfortune of being written too early, before the dissolution of the Soviet Union revealed what had happened behind the Iron Curtain. The state of Soviet directed-energy weapons research is critical to Broad's analysis, but he never discusses even credible guesses on the extent of that progress. As much as I dislike Teller, and like to see Livermore fall on its face, this book requires the reader to place enormous trust in the author's analysis. Still, it's a fascinatingly scary look into Star Wars and personality politics.
This book provides a fascinating look into one of the stranger scientific personalities of the 20th century. I work in the national lab system and it's really easy to imagine all of these discussions taking place. It's also easy to imagine someone being crushed by the slow bureaucracy inherent in a huge scientific machine like a DOE lab.
This book also left me wondering, what is the role of the optimism in science? Science is supposed to be this objective search for truth, but it can be exhausting and disheartening. Optimism really helps (I used to watch episodes of Star Trek to get me pumped for writing my dissertation) but it can also lead people like Regan and Teller to believe so strongly in an idea that they miss a chance to actually rid the world of nuclear weapons.