Book review: The Demon Under the Microscope, By Hager

As human beings, we have relatively short memories; we have largely forgotten what life was like barely 90 years ago, when human lives were far too often cut short by relatively simple infections (by today's standards). Most of us have lost touch with the time when epidemics of "childbed fever" meant that almost all women giving birth in the hospital would die from infection; when a simple blister on the toe could lead to deadly, incurable bacterial sepsis.

Hager's book is an excellent reminder of how far we've come. It is largely narrative history, written with the aim of communicating the processes and ideas that led to the development of sulfa (the world's first true antibiotic), rather than a straightforward chronological account.

Hager begins right at the start, when microscopic world was first discovered, and how it led to the development of germ theory. He carries us through the development of antiseptic use and serum therapy, moving us from a time where surgeons merely placed their instruments on any convenient table, to a period when theatres were constantly filled with aerosolised antiseptic blown from a bellows.

The real start of the show, however, is Nobel Prize winner Domagk (and of course his much neglected chemists), who led the clinical research that culminated in the discovery of the antimicrobial properties of sulfa. Their pains and toils are remarkably communicated by Hager, giving us a definite sense of disappointment after years of unfruitful research. At the same time, due credit is given to other parties involved in the discovery - including French researcher Forneau.

The stories doesn't just stop at the discovery of sulfa - Hager also gives us an account of how the FDA and a haphazard medicinal drug market was transformed overnight into a well organised, highly vigilant industry.

All in all, this is a fantastic book - not just for an insight into the discovery of sulfa, but the ideological and scientific struggles surrounding the idea of a antimicrobial "magic bullet", and the challenges that sulfa placed forth to the world - that of the need for careful, well designed and executed clinical drug research. Most of all, this is a book that reminds us of where we've come from, where we are now, and raises question of where we are headed, in our constant battle with the microscopic enemies in our midsts - an issue particularly pertinent with worrying trends in bacterial resistance.

Any "objective" historians out there?

I'm currently working on a presentation on the 19th Century Cane Ridge revival in North America, in the form of a "role play". I chose to write as a skeptical young journalist, more interested in trashing the Christian faith than anything else. Here's a snippet:

Even the much touted Bible, the source of all Christian "revelation", is really full of sin, immorality, evil and plain silliness. If we read it uninfluenced by the holy banter from the pulpit, we will surely agree with Thomas Paine that “it is more consistent that we call [the bible] the word of a demon than the word of God".

It's really quite interesting to be writing from the other side of the fence. I think it really illustrates Cairn's discussion on the nature of history - that there are scientific (factual) elements, philosophical (interpretative) elements, and artistic (presentation) elements. In this case, I had to report on the factual events of the Cane Ridge revival, interpreting them as a skeptic, and present them in a journalistic format (I fail at the last, I reckon).

It's a useful reflection on the nature of all forms of reporting - that there will always be a subjective, interpretative element to things we say and do. It is much better, I propose, to recognise our inherent biasness and account for them, than to pretend that we are capable of "objective" thought, free from the influence of the world in which we live.

Why we focus on Christ Crucified

A recent essay I'm doing concerns the centrality of Calvary in Christian Evagelicalism - how we often associate the 'saving work' of Christ with his death. It was very interesting to attempt to chart the historical development of our current emphasis on the death (and resurrection) of Christ.

This focus on the can be traced back to the patristic theology of the western Church, in particular that of Augustine. Augustine emphasized that the righteousness of Christ was required in response to the guilt of human sin. In his case, the salvation effected by Christ was primarily one of legal significance, in which the recipient of grace was freed from jurisdiction. This theme was picked up again by Anselm’s Cur Deus homo argument, in which he argued that human sin caused an offense to God's honor, and that this required a satisfication of God only made possible through Christ's death.

However, the modern Evangelical emphasis on the soteriological value of Christ death, was probably cemeted by the reformer John Calvin, as he further developed Anselm’s argument into the Penal Substitution theory. Here, Jesus at his death is seen to be taking the punishment for our sin upon himself, in a substitutive manner. Since then, it would appear that this idea has been central to understanding Christian salvation within Evangelicalism (some even saying that the Penal Substitution theory was the "lens" by which all models of salvation are understood!).