Friday, July 3, 2026

A Word for Weeds

 

In French, there are at least two ways to say “weed,” and they reflect two different attitudes.

The first way reflects the same feeling that we usually have in English when we say weed: mauvaise herbe, bad herb. This is not only a value judgment but also shuts the door to asking any further questions about the plant.

This phrase reinforces our prejudices that weeds are noxious. There are, of course, more exceptions than you can shake a stick at. One example is the pineapple weed Matricaria.

 

I have admired this weed since junior high school. It grows in dry, compacted soil (such as hiking paths). It does not bother to grow tall. You can hardly avoid stepping on it. And if you do, what is the plant’s response? To release a pleasing pineapple-like odor!

The second way to say weed is adventice. This suggests a feeling that weeds take advantage of any opportunities that are available. In English, we say that roots are “adventitious” when they grow out of stems to take advantage of opportunities, such as a vine crawling up a wall or a tree trunk. From this viewpoint, weeds are very creative and waste no time in filling any resource space that may be available. However inconvenient weeds may be, we have to admire this aspect of their lives.

One way that weeds do this is that they adjust their growth and physiology to circumstances much better than other species do. I devoted a considerable part of my Ph.D. thesis (see here for a simplified version of it) to this idea. Weeds live under conditions where they never know what they will find: a lot of light, or mostly shade; a lot of water, or little; a lot of nutrients, or sterile soil; etc. This is why I prefer the French term adventice over the term mauvaise herbe.

 

 


 

Thursday, July 2, 2026

Blood Brain Barrier: Stories from the Borderlands of Science, story 6: Entropy

This collection of short stories by Stan Rice, who is also the author of nonfiction books of popular science and science novels, takes the reader to the frontier between science and worlds of the impossible (see his author website). Readers of my science blog will appreciate the creative telling of scientifically impossible stories; readers of my religion blog will appreciate the question of whether, even if these things were possible, would they be good?

The stories in this collection are The Man Who Could Work Miracles; Light Apparel; Flow of Blood; Wisdom Builds Her House; Rock Bunnies (all reviewed earlier), Entropy (reviewed here), Olga the Science Cat, Doghouse, and Fresh Air (all reviewed later). As in the previous stories, Entropy teaches some deep science in a context of humor.


 Manfred and Meave are tech nerds who have their whole lives in perfect order: they know exactly what and when they would eat (spotlessly cooked meals); what they would play (Monopoly over and over); and when they would get married. Then their perfect order was disrupted by entropy, which is disorder. First, Manfred’s perfectly ordered meal is disrupted when he hides an engagement ring inside of a beet for Meave to find; second, the astonishingly beautiful illegal immigrant Cornelia arrives unexpectedly and gets Manfred in bed with her. Then she brings her whole family. Meave’s latent energy explodes when she finds out about this…until she finds out that she really likes Cornelia’s family. When Cornelia’s family leaves, they do something that makes it impossible for Manfred and Meave to ever be torn apart again.

Entropy is disorder. Everything that happens—every physical transition, every chemical reaction—results in a loss of energy (First Law of Thermodynamics) and a loss of orderliness. That is, an increase in entropy, which the discoverer of entropy, Josiah Willard Gibbs, reportedly called mixedupness. To a certain extent, you can reverse the second law by adding extra energy and information about how to use it. Big molecules break down into smaller ones unless you give them some energy and an enzyme that “knows” how to use it. Don’t you wish you had this explained to you by a writer like Rice when you took chemistry?

The spiritual lesson in this story is that you have to be ready for surprises to come along, rather than imposing your own idea of order on all of life. Being a rigid Puritan—none of whom read this blog, I assume—is not only bad, but also impossible. This lesson makes up about half of the writings of Nathaniel Hawthorne. But also, you have to be open to surprises if you are to notice the wonder of creation. Cornelia tells Manfred, “You have a map of the heavens, you think, because humans have made up names for the stars and drawn little lines between them. You think that constellation over there looks like a Big Dipper. Our people think it looks like a Volkswagen Bug. Just kidding. But, seriously. Do you have a map of the Streets of Gold? When you get glimpses of heaven, and you get them every day, it leaves you bewildered. But you better get used to it. You better be content with feeling a little bit lost, because the heavens are so big, you will never have answers to everything.”

This story also squarely faces one of the most important current issues of our time: illegal immigration and what ICE can or should do about it. Rice does not, of course, provide an answer.

Saturday, June 27, 2026

Blood Brain Barrier: Stories from the Borderlands of Science, story 5. Rock Bunnies

This collection of short stories by Stan Rice, who is also the author of nonfiction books of popular science and science novels, takes the reader to the frontier between science and worlds of the impossible. Readers of my science blog will appreciate the creative telling of scientifically impossible stories; readers of my religion blog will appreciate the question of whether, even if these things were possible, would they be good?

The stories in this collection are The Man Who Could Work Miracles, Light Apparel, Flow of Blood, Wisdom Builds Her House (all reviewed earlier in this blog), Rock Bunnies (reviewed here), Entropy, Olga the Science Cat, Doghouse, and Fresh Air.


In Rock Bunnies, once again, Rice takes an idea from the fiction of H. G. Wells, in this case from The Time Machine. In Wells’s novel, the human species has evolved into two: the infantile Eloi and the shabby but hard-working Morlocks, as different as any two animal species. In Rice’s story, the Urbanites are rich white technologists who have evolved into a slightly-different race that lives in artificial cities, while the dark poor Rock Bunnies live in places the whites have destroyed. This story is set in the Black Hills, which (as anyone visiting Mt. Rushmore knows) is currently covered with pine trees, but in this story, set in the future, is a desert. The Rock Bunnies leap from cliff to cliff and live off of mountain goats and little clumps of edible wild plants.

A white Urbanite graduate student out in the desert sees a Rock Bunny who, as they almost never do, fall from a cliff and injure herself, perhaps mortally. He wants to rescue her but her fellow Rock Bunny vandals have destroyed his car, and he becomes their captive. The Rock Bunny woman, however, is the niece of their chief. They develop a friendship, and the chief—whom they call the Scientist, because he keeps the spirit of science alive among his people—wants the white man to stay with them as his son-in-law.

In this view of the future, which is otherwise bleak, Rice shows that this tribe of Rock Bunnies reveres science and its practitioners. Nice fantasy.

An Urbanite helicopter comes and finds the white man. The white man assumes it is to rescue him. In this, he is quite wrong.

As in other stories in this collection, Rice makes a strong case that altruism—the evolutionary basis of love—is the most important human adaptation. This is the message of both science and religion. As in many other Rice stories, there is also the theme of racism.

Thursday, June 25, 2026

Blood Brain Barrier: Stories from the Borderlands of Science, Story 4. Wisdom Builds Her House

 

This collection of short stories by Stan Rice , who is also the author of nonfiction books of popular science and science novels, takes the reader to the frontier between science and worlds of the impossible. Readers of my science blog will appreciate the creative telling of scientifically impossible stories; readers of my religion blog will appreciate the question of whether, even if these things were possible, would they be good?

The stories in this collection are The Man Who Could Work Miracles, Light Apparel, Flow of Blood (all reviewed earlier in this blog), Wisdom Builds Her House (reviewed here), Rock Bunnies, Entropy, Olga the Science Cat, Doghouse, and Fresh Air.

 

In Wisdom Builds Her House, Dolores Pector, a very serious molecular biologist, alienated the other scientists at her university. The graduate students, even her own, were terrified of her. But a visiting professor, the happy-go-lucky ecologist Jeremy Duckett, showers her with innocent friendship. When she has a medical crisis, she doesn’t want anybody to know, but Duckett finds out and visits her in the hospital; he actually gets her to laugh. He also explains to her how altruism evolved, and why it is perhaps the most important thing to the human species. Pector tries to shield herself so much from the messy friendship and love that when she has a heart attack in her bomb shelter, nobody knows it.

Rice’s question for his fellow scientists and religious people is, what is science for? Is it a grim search for precise truth, as Dolores sees it, or is it, as Jeremy sees it, part of the human celebration of life? Guess which one Rice, better known as the author of popular science books, believes!

Wednesday, June 24, 2026

Blood-Brain Barrier: Stories from the Borderlands of Science, story 3. Flow of Blood

This collection of short stories by Stan Rice, who is also the author of nonfiction books of popular science and science novels, takes the reader to the frontier between science and worlds of the impossible. Readers of my science blog will appreciate the creative telling of scientifically impossible stories; readers of my religion blog will appreciate the question of whether, even if these things were possible, would they be good?

The stories in this collection are The Man Who Could Work Miracles and Light Apparel (reviewed earlier), Flow of Blood (reviewed here), Wisdom Builds Her House, Rock Bunnies, Entropy, Olga the Science Cat, Doghouse, and Fresh Air.

 



In Flow of Blood, the science is not impossible, as was the case with the two previous stories. It is about a viral fever killing people in Africa, including graduate students trying to stop it. As I write these words, the ebola virus is spreading almost uncontrolled in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

Perhaps the most important plot component of this story is racism. The white male grad student was raised to be a racist, until he meets and loves a black female grad student from Africa. He goes with her to study and fight the disease in her birth village. He becomes ill, and she goes back to Kansas to be with him. His family at first rejects her, thinking that Africa is where all viral diseases come from. But they have just suffered another loss: another son has died of a viral fever, but this time it was the American hantavirus. This shared experience of death brings them together.

Medical science is not just about germs and medicine, but about the struggles and perils of real people. And sometimes it takes a medical tragedy to bridge the gulf of racism.

Monday, June 22, 2026

Blood-Brain Barrier: Stories from the Borderlands of Science, part two. Light Apparel

This collection of short stories by Stan Rice, who is also the author of nonfiction books of popular science and science novels, takes the reader to the frontier between science and worlds of the impossible. Readers of my science blog will appreciate the creative telling of scientifically impossible stories; readers of my religion blog will appreciate the question of whether, even if these things were possible, would they be good?

The stories in this collection are The Man Who Could Work Miracles (reviewed earlier), Light Apparel, Flow of Blood, Wisdom Builds Her House, Rock Bunnies, Entropy, Olga the Science Cat, Doghouse, and Fresh Air.


 

In Light Apparel, a physicist, Hadley, discovers how to weave light into a fabric from which clothing could be made. People could now go naked but look like they were clothed, and this was very popular in a globally-warmed world. At least they appeared clothed to everyone except Hadley; he could use his equations to make spectacles that could unscramble the light and reveal their nakedness. Hadley lived in an endless fantasy world.

The only person who rejected this light-apparel was a young Christian woman, Xan, who wore cloth. She stood out among the naked bodies as surely as if she were the only naked person. Hadley was attracted to her, as she tried to save his soul. But her parents sneaked into his room and stole his secrets. The father was ready to destroy Hadley’s financial empire, until Xan shoots her father.

The question that this story raises—but does not answer, since it is just a story—is, why do humans wear clothing? Is it for modesty? Is it to curb unbridled sexual lust? You can think of an almost limitless number of reasons these cannot be the reasons. Some tribes and nudists manage to have modesty despite nakedness. Instead, from an evolutionary biology viewpoint, clothes are power, sometimes hiding, sometimes revealing, sometimes emphasizing, what people want others to see. In the history of every culture, clothing is much too complicated and ornate to simply serve as a covering against nakedness or to keep warm. Clothing is a product of cultural evolution in our species of otherwise naked apes.

Sunday, June 21, 2026

Blood-Brain Barrier: Stories from the Borderlands of Science. Story 1: The Man Who Could Work Miracles

This collection of short stories by Stan Rice, who is also the author of nonfiction books of popular science and science novels, takes the reader to the frontier between science and worlds of the impossible. Readers of my science blog will appreciate the creative telling of scientifically impossible stories; readers of my religion blog will appreciate the question of whether, even if these things were possible, would they be good?

 


 

The stories in this book are The Man Who Could Work Miracles, Light Apparel, Flow of Blood, Wisdom Builds Her House, Rock Bunnies, Entropy, Olga the Science Cat, Doghouse, and Fresh Air. I will post an essay about each story in this blog. All of his fiction books can be found on his author website, where the fiction books are at the bottom.

The first story, The Man Who Could Work Miracles, is also a short story by H. G. Wells. And as in the Wells story, the main character ends up destroying the world—almost. At the last minute, in both stories, the main character rejects his miracle-working ability. No human being is good or smart enough to have this ability.

Rice’s twist on this situation is that the main character, Irwin, only has the ability to work miracles—and then only one at a time—when the odometer on his old car lines up with the same number at least five times. Then, his miracles can only alter the laws of probability, no other natural laws. When Irwin sent the arrogant co-worker to Hell, it was something that was going to eventually happen anyway. When Irwin got incredibly rich from lotteries and investments, it was something that would have happened to someone anyway. Irwin’s patient girlfriend found out where his powers came from, and Irwin used his ability to make her forget what she had learned about him—but he did not expect this would cause her to have a stroke and become brain-dead. But she would have eventually had a stroke anyway, right? But this was enough to make him revoke his ability just seconds before his old car would have collided with a truck in the opposite lane.

When the protagonist revokes his ability in Wells’s novel, it saves the world. In Rice’s novel, it saves only the people Irwin knows. He realizes all he needs is a job and his devoted girlfriend.

Human intelligence evolved only to deal with local, immediate circumstances, and then only imperfectly. It did not evolve to give humans—any humans—the ability to understand the world and control it.