
Prentice Hall Biology: The Living Science
Up front, The Living Science has a 24-page table of contents,
decorated with about 75 colorful but unlabeled pictures. What this
does for students who use the book is not clear. If The Living
Science were a Web site, the pictures and lengthy lists in the
table of contents could serve as "hot-button" links to substantive
information -- but here they seem to serve principally as marketing
devices, intended to impress adoption committees. (In the 1998
version of Visualizing Life, the table of contents is shorter
but it is far from modest -- 14 pages with nearly 40 pictures.)
Though The Living Science is about 80 pages longer that the
1998 version of Visualizing Life, the two books have
approximately the same amount of text. The chief reason why The
Living Science is longer is that Prentice Hall has allocated
more pages to introductory spreads at the beginnings of units, to
review-and-assessment sections at the ends of chapters, to
laboratory exercises, and to other auxiliary items. In the end, we
find that each book has about 500 pages that nominally are devoted
to text, with an average of some 250 words per page. The text in
The Living Science has 10% fewer lines per inch, but it has
about 10% more characters per line.
The Living Science, like Visualizing Life, is built
around a profuse use of illustrations. Most of the pictures in
The Living Science are appropriate to the accompanying text,
and some of them are unusually helpful. Figure 8-13, for example,
presents the genetic code in a novel, circular format that nicely
illustrates many of the relationships among amino acids. And the
book's phylogenetic trees, when carefully examined, generally prove
to be current: In telling when groups of organisms diverged from
each other, these diagrams do as well as today's science allows.
It's worth remarking that figure 17-12, a grand two-page
phylogenetic schematic of all life on Earth, indicates that the
green algae have a close relationship to plants. This is not what
students learn from the book's text, where the green algae are
simply lumped with many other organisms in the catch-all category
Protista.
One thing that seems a bit odd is that 25 of the illustrations in
The Living Science have big headlines which start with the
word "Visualizing" -- e.g., "Visualizing Respiration," "Visualizing
Nutrient Cycles," "Visualizing a Grasshopper" and "Visualizing a
Bird." These 25 items are even listed separately in the book's
table of contents (under the heading "Visualizing . . ."), though
there is nothing special about them. Most instructors would
consider them to be nothing more than big, ordinary diagrams. Why
they've been put in a category of their own is a mystery.
The "Visualizing" pages that purport to explain nutrient cycles go
little beyond what was known 50 years ago, and the diagram of the
nitrogen cycle (on page 294) is ambiguous and incomprehensible. Has
the illustrator used the term "nitrogen fixation" to mean
biological nitrogen fixation? If so, the diagram is wrong in
teaching that "nitrogen fixation" converts atmospheric N2 to
ammonium, nitrate and nitrite ions. It was shown about 50 years ago
that only ammonium is produced by enzyme systems. The diagram of
the carbon cycle is obsolete too, for it fails to show that
chemosynthetic microbes in the deep sea play an important role in
carbon fixation. This is a key issue in global-warming scenarios.
In some other cases, illustrations are plainly and unambiguously
erroneous, and they misinform the student in a big way.
(Fortunately, this does not happen often.) On page 312 the drawing
titled "Exponential Growth" does not show the progressive doubling
described in the text -- it shows a power function that takes off
like a rocket. On the next page, in figure 14-3, the parts of the
"growth-with-limits" curve have been mislabeled by someone who
doesn't understand the mathematics involved. The photographic
illustration on page 257 is supposed to show the use of bacteria for
testing an antibiotic, but it really is a very fine depiction of a
dilution series. On page 368 the photo of "contour plowing"
actually shows the terracing of steep hillsides in some East Asian
country. And as in most high-school biology books, the photo
illustrating "diffusion" actually shows convection (page 55). Thus
far, Visualizing Life is the only high-school book that I've
seen in which there is a valid depiction of diffusion.
Many of the colored drawings in The Living Science are too
vague: The Prentice Hall artists have done such odd things as
showing a leaf's mesophyll cells suspended in space, or omitting all
of the external parts of the human female's reproductive system.
The illustrations of human sensory organs are rather weak, though
high-quality medical illustrations of all those organs are readily
available and could have served as models.
Similarly, it is not helpful to perpetuate the so-called kingdom
Protista -- an anachronistic collection of eukaryotic creatures
whose only shared trait is that they haven't been included among the
plants or the animals or the fungi. (Green algae and paramecia fit
together about as well as India and Ireland used to fit together
when both were parts of the British Empire: The only trait that
they shared was that they didn't belong to the German, the French or
the Spanish empire.) Today, by looking at sequences in proteins or
ribosomal RNA, we can do much better than that.
Another failing of The Living Science is its series of 40
"Career Track" articles. The one on page 391, comprising a
photograph and a single sentence of text, is typical. The photo
shows three men, in a desert, wrestling with the skeleton of some
ancient beast. (This skeleton, which is remarkably clean and fully
assembled, must have come from a first-class museum or from a
special-effects factory.) The text says: "If fossils of ancient
organisms interest you, you may enjoy a career in paleontology,
which is a branch of geology." In only one of the "Career Track"
items is there a photo of an identified person. In the rest, the
photos are just stock publicity shots. The "Career Track" theme
would be much stronger if the articles were fewer but provided real
information about real people.
For laboratory work, The Living Science offers a "Laboratory
Investigation" and two short "Mini Lab" exercises in each of its 40
chapters. This is one of the book's strengths -- and the 40
"Investigation" sessions in The Living Science seem superior
to the 34 lab activities in Visualizing Life, because they
require much more hands-on effort by the students. In
Visualizing Life, too many of the so-called laboratory
procedures require the students to manipulate video displays,
instead of organisms, and to "model" things that they never have
seen in the real world. The Living Science provides
exercises in which students get to work with some plants and "lower"
animals. That is as far as it goes, however, for endothermic
animals seem to be off-limits. Students don't get to examine
chicken wings, beefsteaks or any other such artifacts, even though
most students and their families consume these things at the dinner
table. How about tofu steaks?
Overall, I find that the text and the illustrations in
Visualizing Life seem somewhat stronger than those in The
Living Science, but The Living Science has a better
laboratory program. I would be hard pressed to choose between these
two books.
I am reminded of Fellini's film, and of those teledipendenti,
whenever I encounter TV textbooks. TV texts are intended to appeal
to videoholic teachers. They imitate the gaudy vulgarity of
television programs, and they are characterized by garish design, by
loads of flashy pictures, and by splurges of glitzy distractions.
Most of them offer little else. Most of them are as empty as the
giddy game shows and silly "news" shows that American
teledipendenti love so much.
There are exceptions, though, because a few TV textbooks have some
real content. An example is Holt, Rinehart and Winston's
Biology: Visualizing Life. When I reviewed the 1994 version
of that Holt book, I judged that it would be valuable for imparting
some biology to students who did not plan to pursue higher education
in science or to seek scientific careers.
Visualizing Life has been a commercial success, and Holt has
since issued a second version, dated in 1998. Now, it seems,
Prentice Hall has followed suit, for Prentice Hall Biology: The
Living Science appears to be another version of Visualizing
Life.
Throughout my reading of this Prentice Hall book, I have been
struck by its resemblance to Visualizing Life -- a
resemblance so pervasive and persistent that I ascribe it to
deliberate imitation, rather than to mere coincidence. The
Living Science, like Visualizing Life, is ruled by
bizarre design and by a superabundance of pictures (many of which
are oversized, weirdly shaped or weirdly placed) while the text has
been chopped, whittled and squeezed to fit the spaces that remained
after the pictures had been accommodated. And as if to make sure
that even the dullest teledipendenti will recognize the
similarity between The Living Science and Visualizing
Life, the Prentice Hall designers have contrived 25 large,
illustrated items whose titles include the word "Visualizing." In
typical cases, each item occupies a whole page. As a group, the
"Visualizing" displays seem to correspond to the "Tour" pages (e.g.,
"Tour of a Fish" or "Tour of a Bird") in the 1994 Visualizing
Life.
Because The Living Science and Visualizing Life are so
similar and are apparently aimed at the same population of teachers,
the crucial question becomes: Which is the better book? My answer
is: Visualizing Life.
Without doubt, The Living Science has some strong points, and
one of these its supply of historical information. The main text
offers valuable passages about the work of such men as Walter Reed
(pages 16 through 18) and Thomas Hunt Morgan (pages 151 and 152) --
and the account of Charles Darwin and "Darwin's Revolution" (pages
219 through 233) is superb. I wish that the emphasis on history
were even greater. The writers of our science texts must show
students, again and again, how science works in the real world, and
they must ensure that students will learn about pivotal scientific
discoveries and outstanding scientists of the past. This is all the
more important nowadays because the writers of many
American-history and world-history textbooks -- in their efforts to pander to
the multi-culti mob -- are shunning or trivializing the history of
science and are hiding the importance of science and technology as
historical forces.
The Living Science also has some good feature articles. One
of them is "Patenting Life," a sober piece which deals chiefly with
experience in the United States and which gives proper emphasis to
the Plant Patent Act of 1930. Prentice Hall's exposition is
diametrically different from the bogus, sensationalistic account
given in West Publishing's multi-culti fraud United States
History: In the Course of Human Events. (See my review titled
"A Book of Far-Left Propaganda That Fosters Anti-Intellectualism" in
The Textbook Letter, for January-February 1997.)
Still, I don't like The Living Science, and one reason why I
don't like it is that it is too difficult to read. The people who
designed Visualizing Life showed some restraint in the use of
TV-textbook tactics, but Prentice Hall's designers have gone
overboard and have loaded The Living Science with so many
distractions and so much gingerbread that the main text is often
hard to follow. All those flashy, overdone, superimposed
illustrations and those faddish pseudopedagogic gimmicks may impress
videoholic teachers, but they will only hinder students who try to
find out what The Living Science has to say. (In at least
one case, the designers' insistence on making things flashy has even
led them to doctor a photograph. The photo, on page 688, allegedly
depicts Helostoma temmincki, the fish that American aquarists
call the kissing gourami. Prentice Hall has equipped this animal
with dark-green fins. In reality, the fins of Helostoma
temmincki are nearly colorless.)
The Living Science has scores of "Mini Lab" exercises -- but
a lot of them are mere time-wasters, evidently contrived as excuses
for displaying impressive, sciencey expressions such as "predict"
and "design an experiment." The teledipendenti presumably
like that sort of stuff.
Finally, there are too many instances of sloppiness. Look at page
8, for example. The "nematode" shown in the uppermost picture is
not a nematode, the word kinorhynch is misspelled, and the
writers say, with no explanation at all, that a phylum is a
"special" category of the animal kingdom. I have no idea of what
that is supposed to mean.
Taken as a whole, Prentice Hall Biology: The Living Science
strikes me as a disappointing effort. I cannot recommend it.
Lawrence Davis is a professor in the Department of Biochemistry at
Kansas State University (Manhattan, Kansas). His scientific
interests include biological nitrogen fixation and the application
of plants to the bioremediation of soils. He has taught plant
genetics and plant physiology to high-school teachers for many
years.
William J. Bennetta is a professional editor, a fellow of the
California Academy of Sciences, the president of The Textbook
League, and the editor of The Textbook Letter. He writes
often about the propagation of quackery, false "science" and false
"history" in schoolbooks.
Reviewing a high-school book in biology
1998. 974 pages. ISBN of the student's edition: 0-13-415563-7.
Prentice Hall, 1 Lake Street, Upper Saddle River, New Jersey 07458.
This New Prentice Hall Book
Appears to Rely on MimicryLawrence Davis
If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then Prentice
Hall Biology: The Living Science seems to be a sincere tribute
to Holt's Biology: Visualizing Life, a text that I have
reviewed in its 1994 and 1998 versions. When The Living
Science and the 1998 Visualizing Life are viewed
together, they look like two peas from the same pod. They have
their differences, however -- just as two peas in a pod, though they
seem to be interchangeable, harbor genetic differences.
Obsolete Taxonomy
I Like Holt's Book Better
William J. Bennetta
In Federico Fellini's wry, satirical film Ginger e Fred, an
aging Italian dancer hurls contempt at an audience addicted to
cheesy television entertainment. "Teledipendenti!" he snorts --
and in the version of Ginger e Fred that has English
subtitles, his epithet is nicely rendered as "Videoholics!"

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