Not all history is made by the likes of George Washington, Napolean, or Babe Ruth--larger than life individuals. Sometimes, lesser known luminaries from smaller locales make a significant mark. Such is the case with Nicholas Comfort, as shown exquisitely by Robert Cottrell. Professor Cottrell, the author of biographies about I.F. Stone and Roger Nash Baldwin, recounts in this carefully researched and beautifully told biography the story of a minor character in history who bravely stood up to larger forces. Comfort, a professor of religion at the University of Oklahoma, was ahead of his time--in a region not necessarily receptive to his mindset. For example, Comfort stood up against racism by confronting the KKK and befriending black leaders. He stood up to the powers of a people at war by supporting pascifism. Cottrell's biography depicts the actions of a brave man with unpopular convictions. This compelling biography is told with compassion, and again marks Cottrell as one of our most important biographers of the radical left.

I read this book because of my interest in conflict resolution in the environmental arena. I was initially impressed by the scope of literature from game theory to genetics that the book covers in its arguent. However, I was quite disappointed that Ridley bascially keeps coming back to his zoological credentials and hammering in the "selfish human" hypothesis. In many ways this book is an embellished version of Dawkins' "The Selfish Gene."

There are also a few instances where Ridley oversteps his knowledge base to make inferences about human behavior that are not well-argued. For example, chapter 11, entitled "ecology as religion" reiterates revisionist notions that Native Americans were not environmentally sensitive. While there are some aspects of this argument that are credible, the tone of Ridley's narrative is at times journalistic, condescending, and not well-argued.

Ridley clearly has the potential for writing some of the most lucid scientific prose. However, this particular work gets away with too much simply on account of engaging anecdotes.

Too often, science and religion are placed at opposite ends of a continuum that does not necessarily reflect reality. Both science and religion are different methods of searching for the truth.

This book does a surprisingly good job of highlighting the often shocking truth that religion and science are not mutually exclusive. What is most amazing is that Ripley's scientific explanations shed such great light on many of the fundamental problems most Christians ponder every day.

Why is it better to give than to receive? Why should we turn the other cheek? Ripley approaches the problem from a scientific perspective, but the truths are universal. Cooperating with each other is always more productive than destroying each other.

The greatest gift of this book is exposing warfare for what it truly is -- a biological remnant of our animal nature. Ripley's grace is to provide a "scientific" explanation for Christ's charge to love your neighbor as yourself. The world will never be the same.

Matt Ridley is a British science journalist who has the estimable quality of relying on facts rather than opinions to make his case. In this short, highly readable book he puts forward the evolutionary biologist's theory for the existence of human cooperation and altruism, and he does it brilliantly. The depth and breadth of material covered is extraordinary, and this book well rewards repeated readings (always the sign of good science writing).

From an introductory description of the ideas of Kropotkin, through game theory and Evolutionarily Stable Strategies, to a discussion of free market economics as the 'best fit' to human models of social cooperation, Ridley introduces a wealth of meticulously researched material with sufficient digs at current bien-pensant wisdom on the acquisition of culture to make the average sociologist's hair stand on end.

Matt Ridley writes a weekly column (Acid Test) in the UK broadsheet newspaper The Daily Telegraph, and his customary penetrating analysis of accepted cultural and environmental theory is always a joy to read. He brings this penetrating style to bear on some of the shibboleths of modern sociology (there is a particularly devastating broadside reserved for the egregious Margaret Mead and her band of fellow travelers in the 'Culture Makes Mind' school).

The book concludes (rashly, as even the author acknowledges) with a defense of economic libertarianism. Ridley attempts to show that the whole panoply of cheater-detectors, enlightened self interest and Ricardo-esque comparative advantage that characterises the evolution-moulded systems of human altruism and socialisation can be used to argue in favour of a market-based, minimally interventionist society in which trade is as little hampered by government (or other) interference as possible. Although attempting to introduce economic theory into a work on biology might seem strange, it links in well with the lessons drawn from earlier sections of the book that demonstrate that extra-group commerce is a uniquely human activity. It should also be remembered that an economic analysis of human nature is far from new: the great F. A. Hayek analysed just such a thesis, although his work predates this book by many years.

In summary: a marvellous and rewarding book; extremely highly recommended.

Izzy offers a not always objective look at its subject, and one that could have benefitted from tigher editing. As a stylist, Cottrell seems to borrow from certain sections of Numbers, listing name after name. He also makes the same points repeatedly, which can wear on the reader at times. Stone himself is made out to be a hero, and the author presents some good reasons for supporting this -- Stone almost never followed the pack blindly during his long career as a journalist, and by following his instincts, rather than seeking approval of sources, he was able to break big stories, on Vietnam in particular. Cottrell, in his efforts to make Izzy a hero, sometimes glosses over some of the questions he raises about Stone's character, such as his reluctance to treat left-leaning nations with the same acid-test he applied to right-wing nations. Cottrell does not ignore Izzy's inconsistencies, though. Readers will will understand why Stone was at one time or another at odds with not only the Establishment but his own friends on the left. Perhaps the real value of Izzy comes from the context it gives to Izzy's times. One follows the rise of Liberalism in the '30s, and gains perspective on why it faded as a force in American politics and society, and how McCarthyism evolved.

Professor Robert Cottrell's biography of I.F. Stone offers startling insights into the complex world of one of the 20th century's most captivating journalists. This book, obviously the result of years of dedicated research, says as much about I.F. Stone as it does about the author Cottrell. Not only does the book depict Stone as a central character in the radical left, but also it places Cottrell as one of our most significant biographers of left-wing intellectuals (also see Cottrell's other biographies about Roger Nash Baldwin, the founder of the ACLU, and Nicholas Comfort). A biography should be assiduously researched and fair-minded, coveying its subject's contributions and conflicts. Cottrell accomplishes this, but the biography goes beyond a factual depiction, in that it also conveys both its author's and its subject's passion for left-leaning ideals. This is a brave work about a brave man.