The Fourth Part of the World: The Race to the Ends of the Earth and the Epic Story of the Map That Gave America Its Name by Toby Lester

What is the scale of the world? The first recorded answer to this was in the 3^rd century BCE by Eratosthenes, a Alexandrian Greek astronomer/geographer who measured the circumference of the Earth to be 39,375 km (the actual value is 40,075 km-- that's less than 1% error!).

Geography as a discipline, is one which in the post-modern era, has little meaning as compared to ages past. Today, "geography" brings to mind memorizing maps, continents, and locations easily accessible conceptually (and usually, physically) on the well-measured and explored contours of our planet. To a more formal definition, the modern geographer utilizes computer modeling to study the human-environment relationship.

However, in the world of Eratosthenes, Ptolemy, and geographers for more than a millennium, contrasting the known size of our world with how little is known of it sets the study of maps and their intrinsic meaning holds a both philosophical and adventurous call. The map, of course, is the original player's guide for ages past; in the truest sense of what a map should do, the proper cartographical guide should be your itenerary, your travel-log, your translator, and your fortune-teller for the journey not yet begun.

The reader cannot truly appreciate a "story of a map" until one readers the first few chapters of Lester's book. Outright, The Fourth Part of the World is the backstory and tale of the the Waldseemüller map, the centerpiece of a 1507 revision of Ptolemy's Geography, which holds the historical distinction of being the first document which (1) recognizes the New World as a separate continent, and not an eastward extension of Asia and (2) identifies this new landmass as "America" for the first time.

While the map itself has its own beginning and ending (curiously disappearing for nearly 400 years) which brings it to the Library of Congress today, the tale behind the map is a sojourn on the scale of centuries which encompasses Western history from the Fall of Rome to the dawn of the Age of Exploration. Set firmly in the Eurocentric mindset of exploration (the Mongols, Songhai, and Arawaks knew just where they lived, thank you very much), the seeds of cartographic expansion begin with the great conquest of Eurasia in the thirteenth century by Genghis Khan.

When the Mongols hit the geopolitical landscape of the 1200s, they changed everything-- a disciplined military force which could strike like a legion and scatter like bandits. Often, the Mongol Empire is associated with Chinese and Central Asian history, but their effects were (for the time) global. Like dominoes from Japan to Ireland, one kingdom's fall affected all those around them until the percolation of the Khan's influence reached the Vatican.

In grade school, the canonical rationale for the beginning of the Age of Exploration was late Medieval trade with the Middle-East; Lester argues, however, that the primary motivator for the eastern reach of Latin Europe was political-- the Turkish expansion in Anatola in the 11^th and 12^th centuries (which ultimately triggered the Crusades) pressed Greek (Byzantine) Christians too much for Latin Europe's comfort.

While the European conception of the Far East was steeped in mythology and fantasy, they often looked to the East for salvation. The East was the beginning of light and hope, not only a geographic interpretation, but philosophical and religious as well-- theologians of the day saw history as an expansion from east to west, as the sun marches across the sky. The oriens ultima was the Edenic earthly paradise from which the Next Coming, the religious hoped, would arrive to unify the world under their faith. Mythic figures such as Prester John, to save the world to Gog and Magog, to destroy it, inhabited the lands of the silk-worms and long-lived.

Seeking alliance with the growing Empire (a Christian redeemer perhaps?) who seemed to scare the Islamic states threatening Christian Europe, Popes, kings, and adventurers looked to the land of the Great Khan for the future. The mythic figures stopped being those of fantasy, such as Prester John, and began to be flesh-and-blood adventurers such as Marco Polo and Friar William.

Philosophically, the cosmology of the late Medieval era was concise-- the world existed as three major pieces of land (Europa, Africa, Asia) rising out of the watery sphere of the sea. Contrary to what is commonly taught about pre-Columbian thought, it was well-known in Europe since the Classical Era that Earth was in fact a sphere. Jerusalem was the theological and physical center of the world, where the continents essentially met, and the Ptolemaic spheres of the heavens moved above.

As the Latin Europeans sought to fill in the gaps in their three-part world, the Earth as we know it began to unfold for Western culture. Perhaps it is because so much of history post-Columbus is canon in school curriculum, the story of exploration begins to lose a bit of its luster-of-the-unknown when the Genoan Admiral arrives on the scene. Throughout the work, there is a steady progression of storyline from Middle Age philosophers such as Franciscan monks and early Papal emissaries to China to the Portuguese hugging the African coast (enslaving along the way), the lucky wanderers (Christopher Columbus), and shameless self-promoters as Amerigo Vespucci. This narrative weaves an intriguing tapestry of exploration and cultural growth.

Vespucci's journey itself was the Fourth Part which rocked the philosophical grounds of the era. Columbus' "discovery," at its own time, was throught to be a relatively minor success, as many thought that his islands happened to be a second set of Canaries. Sailing to latitudes over 50 degrees south of the equator had put Amerigo's ship at the fabled Antipodes of the Earth, a fourth land to redefine the deep islands of the Atlantic. This expanding world, embraced by the growing humanist movement across Europe exploded the Renaissance, and the first viable attempts in over a thousand years to revive the Roman Empire sprung to life; with this, two German thinkers-- Martin Waldseemuller and Matthias Ringmann-- proposed a new edition of Ptolemy's world-defining work.

A philosophical work about humankind's literal and theological place on Earth, The Fourth Part of the World is a journey of the mind and spirit as much as it was across the sea. Exploration is a sincerely human endeavor, which has always been more than finding a new land beyond your view, but within oneself. Growth of the soul is always more fascinating than growth of the maps. The heroism of economic and social subjection are not to be glorified as the men who were not the explorers, but the quiet students of cosmology who studied and wrote in the libraries, monasteries, and universities back on the Continent. These philosophers (in the truest sense of the word) drew the new bounds and directions of thought for the coming centuries. To pore over a map is to explore within and without.

And, if you're lucky, you get something named after you.

Unscientific America by Chris Mooney and Sheril Kirshenbaum

My process for reading books is never quite as fast as I would like it to be... this inevitably results in always adding more to the eternally growing list of to-reads. For this reason, as much as I enjoy books of the zeitgiest, they too often loose their great impact before I get a chance to comb through the pages. Unscientific America, in this mold, operates very much within the moment; clearly researched in late 2008, and written/published in early 2009, Mooney & Kirshenbaum's work is an extension from Mooney's 2005 Republican War on Science (recommended reading). However, rather than taking aim at a particular political philosophy, the authors have a greater focus upon the American people's malaise and insouciance of the scientific world.

A relatively short work (about 150 pages), but very clear and to the point, the book rose from the failed effort of ScienceDebate2008, an effort during the 2008 presidential election to bring Senators Obama and McCain to a forum in which the scientific issues of the day were discussed (in the same way of the values debate, economy debate, etc...). The Obama campaign politely declined requests, and the McCain camp simply ignored any discussion of the topic. Good idea though, right? A lot of universities, professional researchers, and members of the educated community thought so too. The simple reason why the campaigns declined (or ignored) the idea of discussing American science in a highly public forum was that there was no reason to-- a presidential campaign is purely an animal of survival-- the quadrennial campaign is as lean and as close to public sentiment as metaphorically possible.

But why don't Americans like to talk about science?

"Of course we're intimidated by science! Science holds itself above everybody else-- above God, evidently. You guys have been kicking ass since the Enlightenment"
-Stephen Colbert

A quick history of the American relationship with the scientific community through the latter half of the 20^th century (although not as cutting or encompassing as in Mooney's earlier work) brings us to the state of science of 2009, after eight years of an outright antiscience adminstration, culture wars on man's origin, stem cells, and some topics you would never think would be debated, to ask where are we now, and where are we going?

[For a full jeremiad about the declining place of science in America, please see older posts.]

While it would be easy to place blame upon the populace for scientific lassitude, Mooney and Kirshenbaum are equanimitous in spreading blame to scientists for popular disconnect. While American interest in scientific advances have consistently slipped in that last fifty years, science itself has become more obtuse-- beautiful, encompassing, and wonderful-- but largely abstract to the general population.

Communication of science, the authors argue, is the greatest failing of the American science-culture system. While science writers have been declining in the waning years of newspapers, the scientists themselves are often left to communicate the wonder of their art to the people, which has simply never been a high priority, as researchers themselves prefer research, and there has always been science writers to serve as a medium.This might be why so many Americans hear "scientist" and think of something like this:
<------------

when, in reality, so many of us are
more like this --------------->

Okay, not always beakers, but beer pints instead, and not as much dyed hair. But we do rock the fuck out.


Anyway, the book. In the end, there really is no one place or person to hang all of the blame for the problems with how Americans do or do not embrace science. For all that we bemoan and cringe at the actively antiscience population, the truth is that most of our countrymen (and women) are actually very respectful of science and interested when it does pop-up in an understandable form. What is necessary is a new culture, which is actually quite fortunate, as American culture has shown us, it is malleable and powerful when concentrated. Let's not let this decade's ascendancy of the geek stop with a complacency that the Bush years are over, there is always a great amount of work to be done. It can always be better. Both scientists and Americans are defined by a strong attachment and dedication to consistent, hard work. Both are capable.

There exists a generation in America who has not seen a man on the Moon. The Apollo program exists to anyone younger than thirty years simply as history, as if those born in the final quarter of the 20th century have only known the dying echo of that which once was a thunderous roar. Of the many reasons NASA abandoned the Apollo program in the mid-1970s was a lack of public interest. For those who can only faintly recall a time without computers, a national space program consists of varied probes, satellites, and telescope images, of which the public as a whole is only temporarily aware, if at all interested.
As a member of “Generation Y,” Americans born in the 1980s and 1990s, I have been very fortunate to enjoy the fruits of our nation’s boisterous economic success — particularly in the previous decade — for much of my life. Indeed, many Americans of all walks of life, as well as millions beyond our shores, have benefited from the American scientific and technological innovations of the late 20th century.
These great leaps over the previous half-century are doubtlessly attributed to the “Sputnik Generation,” who came of adult age beginning in the 1970s. At the height of the Cold War, the federal government—not to be outdone by Soviet achievements— heavily invested in both basic research as well as science education. These investments later manifested themselves primarily in (1) the American victory in the “Race to the Moon” (which subsequently produced much-needed computer miniaturization and empowerment), as well as (2) a generation of Americans whose enthusiasm and training in science and technology fostered characteristic American innovation, invention and discovery, pushing the bounds of both our civilization’s knowledge and ability.
However, in recent years the United States’ governmental and public interest in the sciences has waned. Although a definitive point when the Cold War-fueled interest in sciences began to lose momentum is difficult to ascertain, some of the largest blows to the American scientific community have occurred since the dismantling of the congressional Office of Technology Assessment in 1995. Moreover, science has suffered greatly over the past eight years, particularly in the form of a dearth in funding for basic research and science education. Indeed, this can be easily shown by a plateauing for NSF and DOE funding (only DOD and NASA saw an increase) in recent years, as well as dropping test scores in science and mathematics.
Indeed, with the current state of American science and science education, the republic finds itself at a precipitating crisis; given the rapid investment in these fields by rising 21st century powers, such as China and India, America’s cultural, political, and economic standing for future generations is in jeopardy. The global centers of learning have begun to shift away from our shores—such an example is the Large Hadron Collider in Europe, which will provide groundwork for the next step in physics, was originally planned to be built in Waxahachie, Texas over ten years ago until this plan was abandoned by lawmakers. While a generation ago, NASA was a sparkling source of pride for all Americans; the space agency today is regarded on the whole with ambivalence, if not ridicule. The United States must lead again.
To use history as a guide, one may draw parallels with a nation’s investment in science and technology with later economic and political success. This pattern begins to emerge in antiquity among the Greeks and later Romans; and is followed in world history through the Enlightenment in British advances in the physical sciences seeding global dominance in the 19th century. Indeed, this is continued in the American story through scientific and technological investment the early- to mid-20th century to today’s unparalleled achievement at the dawn of the millennium.
Of a nation borne of Enlightenment principles, the very idea United States rests upon an informed citizenry. It is only the knowledgeable citizen who will question authority, it is only the conversant citizen to will hold their leaders accountable, it is only the well-informed citizen who will consider the impact of their vote, their purchase, and their very life. America deserves no less than an enlightened community of informed, active citizens.
In the coming decades, the must be a renewal. To re-present science to the population is no small undertaking, yet as a people, Americans are defined by their incredible capacity to be at their best in the worst of times. This revolution of thought will require enormous resources, time, and investment in an incredibly American channel of discussion: public education. American students routinely rank far behind those of other developed nations, and with a slipshod, piecemeal approach to invigorating American schools; these rankings are bound only to slide further. Yet, in a time of an educational nadir, Americans do have the mountain-moving capacity to launch a New Deal for schools, an Apollo program for learning. This is our strength, and we will show that a strong America will be built through strong schools.
Our leaders must be pressed as to how they will show their support for basic research. American science will push the bounds of our collective knowledge and show the world new horizons. Today, many scholars from abroad are being drawn back to their homelands, and bringing their vital American-acquired talents and knowledge away with them—let us build an America where study and exploration are held to the highest standards of public discourse and admiration.
As the world seeks to define itself in the twenty-first century, challenges appear to all mankind which were unimaginable a generation before—an ever-shrinking world through globalization and the Internet, the hegemony of a single superpower, economies as entropic as the weather, and spectre global climate change. Our nation must hold a leadership role in solving some of the most complex and severe problems in human history. This task requires no less than the enlightened republic which the Founders hoped it would be.
This year, we find ourselves in an opportune moment to take our nation where it must be. During this presidential election, the advocacy of science in the American psyche can hold a unique place to be able to spread its message to the voters as well as the candidates. Should science be pushed into the top priorities of the next president, America will have the leader it needs to inspire a new generation. Nearly a half-century ago, President Kennedy asked Americans to go to the Moon; this feat was not only accomplished by the Herculean advances of NASA, laboratories, and in the bravery of the pioneering pilots, but also in the enthusiastic backing and will of the American people, who dutifully and excitedly watched the liftoff of every spacecraft. We, as a people, are capable of so many things…. Americans need only to be challenged.