“Skeleton Keys: The Secret Life of Bone“, written by Brian Switek, published in the US by Riverhead Books in March 2019 (hardback, 276 pages), and in the UK by Duckworth in August 2019 with the title “The Secret Life of Bones: Their Origins, Evolution and Fate” (paperback, 288 pages)

Switek starts off with a potted evolutionary history of the skeleton, taking the reader all the way back to the Cambrian, some 455 million years ago. The small fossils of Pikaia gracilens are some of the earliest evidence we have of the starting point of skeletal evolution. Looking for all the world like a small worm, it was one of the first creatures to possess a notochord, a cartilage-like structure that is the precursor of the backbone. (For a more technical exposé of that borderline between vertebrates and invertebrates, see my review of Across the Bridge: Understanding the Origin of the Vertebrates.)

He then hops, skips, and jumps to other significant milestones; fossils of the fish Entelognathus primordialis show the transition to jawed fish, while Tiktaalik roseae (see Your Inner Fish: The Amazing Discovery of Our 375-Million-Year-Old Ancestor) shows the transition of vertebrates moving onto land. He considers protomammals, the cynodonts, whose offspring lived through the age of the dinosaurs, and the primordial primates, noting how the changing skeleton acquired more and more traits we now think of as human.

This part is far from a complete overview of the evolution of skeletons (for that, see e.g. Skeletons: The Frame of Life), but that was never the intention. It does allow Switek to exercise his funny bone, wondering whether without the evolution of jaws the book and movie would instead be known as Pharyngeal Slit, or comparing the earliest invasion of land by plants to a prehistoric salad bar. At the same time, he is keen to correct misunderstandings about evolution: “It is easy to make categorical divisions between humans and apes when extinction has removed your ancestors”. Similarly, as Tiktaalik shows, any true invasion of land did not coincide with the origin of fingers and feet, with fish evolving into amphibians only millions of years later. This should do away with the misconception of evolution being goal-oriented (beyond, you know, making it to the next generation).

“Without the evolution of jaws, would the book and movie instead be known as Pharyngeal Slit?“

But we cannot dwell here any longer. Bone as living tissue is fascinating, and Switek introduces the physiology, with osteoblast cells continuously forming new bone while osteoclasts break it down again. Something that goes off kilter when astronauts spend months in space and lose bone mass. That makes hibernating bears all the more of a miracle, how do they not lose bone mass? Switek has the answer. Bone can be moulded in life, as seen by cultures around the world that change the shape of infants’ skulls, while in death it retains a personal history of disease and injury. Archaeologists are becoming increasingly skilful at elucidating these stories (see for example Injury and Trauma in Bioarchaeology: Interpreting Violence in Past Lives and Skeletons in Our Closet: Revealing Our Past through Bioarchaeology).

At this point Switek transitions seamlessly into the cultural significance of bone, and how especially skulls have become emblems of death. Neanderthals appear to have been much more sophisticated than we have long given them credit for, as evidenced by burials (see my review of The Smart Neanderthal: Cave Art, Bird Catching, and the Cognitive Revolution), while his recounting of the exhumation of Richard III’s skeleton in a Leicester car park in 2012 is a fascinating archaeological detective story.

A far darker chapter that Switek tackles with panache is the heritage of anthropology. The pseudoscience of phrenology (where measurements of the bumps on a skull supposedly predicted someone’s mental capacities and traits) was long used to justify white man’s superiority. As he mentions, anthropology may not have invented racism, but it certainly fueled it through the 19th and 20th century. Switek is deeply troubled by the resurgence of the idea that race is biologically meaningful. As has been documented at length, there is more variation within populations than between populations, and the overlap between what we thought of as races is enormous (see strident takedowns in The Myth of Race: The Troubling Persistence of an Unscientific Idea and Superior: The Return of Race Science).

“[…] anthropology may not have invented racism, but it certainly fueled it through the 19th and 20th century.”

This naturally leads on to the literal skeletons in the closets of many research collections. Lance Grande, a curator at Chicago’s Field Museum, dedicated a chapter to this in his book Curators: Behind the Scenes of Natural History Museums. The repatriation of old skeletons to for example Native American tribes, for whom the bones of the deceased hold particular spiritual significance, is becoming more commonplace. But not all museums are going along with it, as evidenced by Switek’s story of the skeleton of the Irish Giant Charles Byrne, who is still on display. Another one of those eye-opening tidbits in the book is his peek at the online trade in human bones on platforms such as eBay and Etsy (who have since cracked down on it), and now Instagram. You are far better off building your own.

Each chapter opens with a drawing from the 1733 book Osteographia or the Anatomy of Bones. These are lovely, and my only bone of contention (sorry) is that there aren’t more illustrations in the book. I would have loved to see some photos included, as Switek describes many wonderful things. For that, readers will have to turn to, for example, the work of palaeoartist John Gurche (see my review of Lost Anatomies: The Evolution of the Human Form) or, two of my personal favourites, Evolution in Action: Natural History Through Spectacular Skeletons and Skulls: An Exploration of Alan Dudley’s Curious Collection. Other slightly less spectacular but still noteworthy books are The Skeleton Revealed: An Illustrated Tour of the Vertebrates and Skeletons: The Extraordinary Form & Function of Bones.

Skeleton Keys is a multifaceted exploration of bones and their biological and cultural importance that is very absorbing. Far from a macabre gawk-fest (Skeletons! Eek!), Switek capably handles a range of serious topics, smoothly transitioning between them. The narrative sizzles, whether it is with witty jokes or genuine ire at the disrespect to bones and the questionable ideas they are used to prop up. An incredibly enjoyable book that comes highly recommended.

*Note that the book is published in Europe by Duckworth in paperback with a completely different title: The Secret Life of Bones: Their Origins, Evolution and Fate.

Disclosure: The publisher provided a review copy of this book. The opinion expressed here is my own, however.

The Secret Life of Bones paperback / Skeleton Keys hardback

Other recommended books mentioned in this review:

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“The World in a Grain: The Story of Sand and How It Transformed Civilization“, written by Vince Beiser, published by Riverhead Books in August 2018 (hardback, 294 pages)

The first part of the book is a short history of science and modern civilisation. Beiser discusses the building of vast road networks (e.g. the US interstate highway system) and takes a trip down the history of science, where lenses in microscopes and telescopes revealed worlds until then unseen, ushering in scientific revolutions (see The Glass Bathyscaphe: How Glass Changed the World). The components in computers and high-tech gadgets require ultra-pure sand, while fracking requires a different kind of sand that is blasted into underground shale beds. And sand makes land. From tourist beaches and the hallucinogenic artificial islands that Dubai is creating for the super rich, to the geopolitical muscle flexing of China in the South China Sea where it is installing military bases on its new land. All of the above is completely dependent on sand.

One of the take-home lessons is that not all sand is created equally. Grain size and smoothness are but two factors indicating you can’t just use any sand for any application. Where does all this sand come from? Well, pretty much everywhere! Open pit-mining, hilltop removal, river dredging, digging up of beaches, and the hovering up of enormous quantities of sand just offshore: sand mining is a vast, sprawling industry. And, as Beiser reveals, it is also poorly regulated in many places. Corruption and environmental degradation go hand-in-hand. There are fortunes to be made here, and there is a veritable black market in sand, ruled over by its own sand mafia who do not shy away from (lethal) violence towards anyone foolhardy enough to stand in their way.

“sand mining is a vast, sprawling industry [with its own] black market […] ruled over by its own sand mafia who do not shy away from (lethal) violence”

I have so far left the biggest culprit of all unmentioned: concrete. Primarily a mixture of sand and gravel, the concrete industry is the largest consumer of sand in this story. And we have to be honest, concrete is a wonderful construction material: strong, fire-proof, endlessly adaptable (there are thousands of recipes available for all sorts of specific purposes), and easily poured into all sorts of shapes… its benefits are plenty (see also Concrete Planet: The Strange and Fascinating Story of the World’s Most Common Man-Made Material).

Beiser starts his book off with concrete and returns to it by the end of the book after the above-mentioned tour. If, by then, you weren’t already sufficiently stunned by our demand for sand and the incredible impact of this extractive industry, the book turns into a brutal, pummelling read. There is no need for Beiser to be alarmist as the numbers themselves are staggering enough. Many formerly developing countries have gone through their own industrial-revolution-on-steroids growth spurts and have caught up with Europe and the US in a matter of decades. This means billions more consumers are in need of infrastructure (roads, houses, skyscrapers, factories, etc.) that all need sand. Vast quantities of it. Beiser quotes estimates of a global annual consumption of 50 billion tons of sand, double (yes, double!) of what it was just ten years ago.

One of the most worrying aspects is that this has happened so quickly that we have yet to come to terms with the lifecycle of concrete. Nothing lasts forever. Most concrete structures have a life-span of 50-60 years, and many older ones are starting to fail (in myriad ways, as Beiser highlights). Once all this new infrastructure of the last few decades ages and needs to be replaced, where on Earth will we get the sand from? Already, there is a shortage of the right kind of sand in some sectors.

“One of the most worrying aspects is that […] we have yet to come to terms with the lifecycle of concrete”

What makes this book particularly refreshing is that Beiser takes the proverbial bull by the horns on several fronts. He highlights the typical hypocrisy of consumers (the central tenet of The Irresponsible Pursuit of Paradise). People oppose the polluting, destructive industries that extract raw materials from the natural world – often displacing them to other countries in the process – yet at the same time they are clamouring for the products made from these materials. Most importantly, Beiser points out that the triple whammy of rapid population growth, increased urbanisation, and increased living standards has added 1.2 billion more affluent consumers since 1990, and we can expect another 3 billion in the decades ahead. This is creating a demand for resources unlike anything that has ever come before. In my eyes, too few authors seem to be willing to connect the dots and call out the rather intractable problem of overpopulation (but see Should We Control World Population? to make a start).

And, as Beiser urges the reader to realise, it’s not just sand, it’s pretty much everything (I was very pleased to see Beiser give a nod to The Elements of Power here – shortages of these rare metals is another topic that is not mentioned enough). At this rate, it is hard not to feel like we are heading for a Seneca-syle collapse (see The Seneca Effect: Why Growth is Slow but Collapse is Rapid).

Beiser offers no palliative, nor does he expect any one of us to be willing to give up our creature comforts and head back for the caves. So, he leaves us with the hard questions: how much damage are we willing to do, where and to what? The fact that we have to worry about something so mundane as sand says much about the state of the planet. Eye-opening, engaging, and urgent, this is the kind of investigative journalism that needs to be widely read.

Disclosure: The publisher provided a review copy of this book. The opinion expressed here is my own, however.

The World in a Grain paperback, hardback, ebook or audiobook

Other recommended books mentioned in this review:

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