[.ca] A Rum Affair: A True Story Of Botanical Fraud (ISBN 0306810603)

From Amazon.com:
Take a garrulous old university professor with a knack for making extraordinary (and highly suspicious) botanical discoveries, a scientific community becoming increasingly skeptical of his claims, and an amateur botanist keen to find out the truth, and the stage is set for an absorbing tale of scientific chicanery and academic intrigue. Professor John Heslop Harrison of Newcastle University was one of the most respected and knowledgeable botanists of the first half of the 20th century. His greatest passion was for the plants of the Hebridean islands off the west coast of Scotland. He came to believe that some of the islands' plants were survivors from a time before the last Ice Age, a theory bound to be controversial given that the last advance of the ice sheets extended well south of mainland Scotland. In support of his theory, Heslop Harrison began to report sightings of plants that no one had ever seen on the islands before, and the botanical community started to get suspicious. Were the plants really where Heslop Harrison claimed they were? If so, how did they get there? Could they really have survived on the islands since the last interglacial? Or had the wily old professor carried the specimens to the Hebrides from their sites of origin and planted them? Karl Sabbagh relates the shady tale of John Heslop Harrison in his highly engaging book A Rum Affair (Rum is the name of the Hebridean island where Harrison made many of his most extraordinary--and suspicious--discoveries). Sabbagh examines the thoughts, actions, and motivation of Harrison and his academic enemies with great aplomb, and goes on to explore how some scientists are driven to the belief that fakery can be in the interest of science. Sabbagh's writing style is sometimes dry and detailed, as befits the treatment of a rather touchy subject, but the book is also laced with absorbing anecdotes and wry humor. It's a winner in a popular history of science genre that is becoming a bit overpopulated these days. --Chris Lavers, Amazon.co.uk

clearly not for everyone:
The merest possibility that a geographic botanist would actually falsify a discovery and violate the sanctity of the British scientific aristocracy is not only enough excitement for one book, but plenty for a sensational story. However, you might have to be an unabashed fan of all things Anglo like myself; also perhaps a talented amateur horticulturist who thrills to the details of the growing conditions necessary for the disputed "discoveries" of J. Heslop Harrison (the names of the characters alone make this a fun read). Sabbagh navigates the touchy territory of real peoples' reputations with great subtlety and renders a fascinating picture of the British universities, their scientists and personalities. Of course there is no silly confrontation scene! All the drama is handled with typical British restraint, which makes the book and this true story all the more enthralling for the right type of reader.

a hatchet job:
I am really quite puzzled as to just why the author wrote this book. By his own admission Sabbagh isn't a scientist, and by his writing it is apparent that he doesn't understand Botany, Botanists or Biogeography. In spite of this he has chosen to write about all three. The story is a rather sad little affair which could be interpreted in a number of ways. In one a botanist is suspected of fraud by members of the scientific establishment, the case is investigated, the suspect records are quietly dropped from publication, and everyone eventually retires and dies. It is clear that Sabbagh, for reasons that escape me, would rather that there had been a public trial, with any guilty parties being tarred, feathered & ridden on a rail. Since this DIDN'T happen when anyone involved was alive, Sabbagh sets out to do it to the dead. Starting by gaining access to a manuscript whose author had specifically requested should remain sealed (there are some weird aspects of class struggle throughout this book by the way, Sabbagh boasts that since he is "a Kingsman" -a graduate of King's College Cambridge- the widow of his hero is confident that the ms will be "in safe hands" -false hope as it turns out.) Sabbagh sets out to develop a case against his villain, John Harrison. This "case" is based in part on excerpts from the sealed manuscript by the book's hero, John Raven, in part on wild speculation, and in large part on every bit of gossip, hearsay and innuendo that Sabbagh seems to have dug up. It is clear from the outset that there were people -especially particularly well-connected people in the British scientific aristocracy- who didn't like John Harrison. It also seems likely that Harrison wasn't particularly likable in general. Whether this dislike could have engendered the sort of plot that Sabbagh suggests seems somewhat far-fetched, and is based here on second and third hand gossip & sometimes ludicrous "reading between the lines" of selected letters. While there is clearly the POSSIBILITY of fraud in the behaviour of "villain" Harrison, what also emerges is that both the "hero" John Raven and the author are what I was raised to call "cads". By Sabbagh's own account Raven gets access to Harrison's study sites on false pretexts, in spite of repeated sensible warnings that the study area is remote & inhospitable Raven shows up without food or camping supplies -and manages to burn down his tent! (Sabbagh has previously suggested that Harrison is being obnoxious by telling Raven to bring supplies, but he automatically forgives his hero when he fails to follow either courtesy or caution). Raven then spends less than three days on an island where the Villain has been working for many field seasons, decides that some specimens of rare plants have been literally "planted" and then leaves to write a report which goes nowhere. Another interpretation of the whole affair is that Harrison was hounded by people who didn't like him, investigated by a talented amateur (Raven may have been a cad, but he was certainly talented) who failed to turn up much serious evidence of fraud (Raven mis-identifies a key species of plant in the course of his investigation). Faced with at best a verdict of "not proven" the establishment does the sensible thing and drops the whole matter. There it would (and should) have remained except for the energies of Mr. Sabbagh. We read this sort of book for the same reason we slow down at car-wrecks or scan the front pages of the tabloids. This is a sick entertainment that ennobles nobody.

Who Cares?:
Time was when you could ask three questions of science/nature writing: Is it important? Does it matter? Would anything change if the reverse conclusions were reached? The answer had better be "yes" to at least one question. Of course, the answers to those questions when asked about A Rum Affair are "No," "No," and "No.' One thing was determined, however, and that was that a book can be written about anything---the spare change in your pocket, the color of dirt, whatever. It seems curiously reversed that I paid money to read this book when someone should have paid me a hefty sum to read it. Just awful.

Botany - Not quite as exciting as Stamp Collecting:
If this is the greatest excitement in the history of geographic botany, I pity every geographic botanist that is, was, or will be. Geographic botany is the study of the distribution of plant species. In practical terms, a geographic botanist spends her time looking for plant species in new locations. The Rum Affair is the story of a well known botanist, Heslop Harrison, who supports his theory that ice age plants may have survived on Rum island in the UK by reporting unprecedented discoveries of plants on the island. Rum island is very isloated and Heslop Harrison indirectly controls all access to the island. Isnt that convenient ? A ametuer with no offical standing as a botanist, but with considerable expertise, gains access to the island. He finds no evidence of any of the reported species in situ. In addition, he finds that the soil, climate and related plants indicate that it would be a virtual impossibility for some of the reported plants to have lived there. The ametuer confronts Heslop Harrison who is unable to answer any of the accusations. When the findings are made public, the academic community, which didnt believe Heslop Harrison to begin with, is mostly mute. With time, Heslop Harrison's " discoveries " are dropped from offical texts and the incident is forgotten. I wish there were more to it, but that is it. There is little mystery and no real suspense. A suspected fraud is uncovered and then quietly forgotten. There is no dramatic contfrontation between the rivals who primarily communicate via the post. Heslop Harrison is unable to refute the charges of fraud and primarily goes on about being betrayed. The muted reaction of the academic community to the uncovering of a suspected fraud is typical, even for today. The fraud is an embarrasment to the scientific community and everyone benefits from a quick and quiet end. Only when big money or big law suits are possible to academic frauds make headlines. Can you name the scientist at Texas A & M who " discovered " cold fusion a few years ago ? I can't either, and that was a potentially world altering discovery. The Rum Affair would make an interesting article in Scientific American or a nice short story. There just isnt enough here to make a book. If you see it at the used book store, buy it, read the two middle chapters, and donate it back to library.

A promise unfulfilled:
In this era of scientific research and breaking stories about falsification and ethical misconduct, the story of a botanical research mystery on a remote island in Scotland in the beginning of the 20th century sound very promising. Instead it is a gossip-ridden tale in which the author is so pleased with himself for pursing this that it LACKS all interest. BORING! I'd rather read the back of a cereral box.