I LOVE A MYSTERY

For about fifty years, I have been a mystery addict. It began with spending long evenings in the public library in Evanston, Illinois, which had a vast collection of Agatha Christies and John Dickson Carrs. I read through them in short order. Though a few mystery writers are more than lightweight—Dorothy Sayers especially comes to mind—in most cases I read the books more as puzzles than as literature. I relish watching for important clues, making hypotheses about whodunit, and piecing together the answer before Ellery Queen or Lord Peter Wimsey announces it.

As many scientists have pointed out, their work is often detective-like. They make many observations, watch for facts that don’t fit expected patterns, make and test hypotheses. Over time and many experiments, a broad theory may emerge. Much of my own science writing (mainly for middle- and high school students) emphasizes the mystery-solving aspects of science. One of my favorite—and unfortunately unpublished—books was called Who Killed the Neanderthals?

There is an important difference between detective fiction and science, though: In a well-written whodunit, all the clues are wrapped up neatly by the last page. There is no mystery left to solve. In science, the “detectives” can reach a tentative conclusion as the result of experimentation, but their conclusion is subject to further testing by other scientists, and it may be disproved. In fact, that is the exciting thing about science. New observations and experimental results can lead to new hypotheses. The Neanderthals are a good example: Seen at one time as brutish creatures having no relation to modern humans, they have gone through several reassessments as new fossil evidence and DNA studies have emerged. They may still not be completely understood. And so, I will go on reading about the Neanderthals—sharing the excitement about new clues, wondering whether that particular mystery has finally been solved.