I have always been fascinated by science, as those of you who have read Tangled Roots know.  And I love to  think about the interplay between science and language.  And so, when I heard that Marcus Chown, whose book We Need to Talk  About Kelvin I talked about here, had a new book coming out, I thought, “Great. Let’s have a good old chin wag.”
   Afterglow of Creation tells the story of the biggest cosmological discovery of the last hundred years, namely the afterglow of the big bang, what it is, how it was discovered, who did the discovering. It’s a fascinating story, well worth reading, and it brought to mind a universe of questions. Chown’s answers are below. We did go on a bit so I’ve divided this interview into two blog posts, just so you can think about his ideas without looking at your watch. 

This book seems more like “history of science” than science, and that’s a field in itself. Are you more or less interested in the history than you are in the science?

I’m interested in both. On the one hand, I’m amazed by the things we have discovered. Let’s face it, the Universe we find ourselves in is stranger than science fiction, far more surprising anything we could possibly have invented. For instance, a single atom can be in two places at once, like you being in London and New York at the same time. I ask you, who could make that up? But, in addition to being an ideas junkie, I am also interested in how we got to the current view. And here I have a bit of a bee in my bonnet because the tendency of scientists is to present only the finished product – Einstein, for instance, destroyed all the steps on the road to his finished theory of relativity. That kind of thing gives the public the impression scientists aren’t ordinary human beings, groping in the dark and making mistakes like the rest of us, but gods who conjure their discoveries, fully formed, out of nowhere. And that probably stops a lot of kids even pursuing science because they think, How can I ever live up to that? But most discoveries were not made by Mr Spocks, using logic to home in relentlessly on answers. And I think showing the tortuous route by which discoveries are made not only de-mystifies the process but it makes a great story too. In Afterglow of Creation, for instance, the afterglow of creation – the leftover heat of the big bang fireball – was both predicted and discovered long before it was discovered, if you see what I mean. But nobody took any notice of the prediction. And nobody realised they’d actually discovered it. Then, the two astronomers who finally discovered it – thinking at one point they had detected the microwave glow of pigeon droppings! – wouldn’t even accept they had found the echo of the big bang for two years. Yet they were still awarded the Nobel Prize. This is the way science is done.
 Do you assume your readers know nothing about the topic? If so, when you write are you forever explaining everything as you go along, or do you fill in the background information in some later revision?
Yes, I assume the readers know nothing. In fact, I write for my wife, who is a nurse and has no science background. Of course, she has a medical background but not a physics background. If, when I show her what I have written, her eyes glaze over and she starts reaching for the TV remote control, I have to start again. And, yes, when I write, I explain things as I go along. Believe it or not, in writing, I am principally trying to understand things to my own satisfaction. And I think visually, so I am always looking for apt metaphors that will deepen my own understanding. Fortunately for me, this process is the same as trying to explain science to someone with no science background. So I kill two birds with one stone.
Okay.  That’s enough for a Sunday afternoon.  Come back Thursday when we’ll discuss the frustrating unreliability of facts and science writing as poetry.