Category Archives: Book review

Book review: “The Ecology of Ecologists” by Jeremy Fox

There are probably few people who have thought more about what it means to be an academic ecologist than Jeremy Fox, Professor of Ecology at the University of Calgary in Canada. The Dynamic Ecology blog that he founded, and to which he makes most of the contributions, has long been a source of useful information and statistics on where the field is going and how to navigate its churning waters. As one of the blog’s regular readers and occasional commentators, I was excited when Jeremy announced that he was distilling his thoughts on ecology into a book. The result is named The Ecology of Ecologists, with the subtitle: Harnessing Diverse Approaches for a Stronger Science.

The fact that the name emerged following a plea by Jeremy to the blog readership really hints at the tone of the book: to him, ecology is a big tent with space for everyone, and where everyone can contribute. That’s a fresh and important point of view at a time when science is too restricted (in my opinion) by bandwagons, hobby horses, high-impact journal culture, institutional elitism, and both written and unwritten strictures about The Right Way To Be Doing A Thing (I’m looking at you, methodological dogmatists).

The Ecology of Ecologists opens with the premise set out in the Introduction: “Ecologists Disagree on What Ecology Is and How to Do It. Good.”, and develops this into a broad reflection on The Diversity of Ecology itself. Jeremy argues that the field’s strength lies not despite but because of its pluralism, exploring The Benefits of Diversity, in Nature and in Ecology through ideas such as Complementarity and Selection, and showing how different perspectives, methods, and even personalities can contribute to scientific progress. This theme extends into Diverse Tools for Diverse Jobs: The Many Uses of Mathematical Models and Fighting Lack of Diversity: The Value of Contrarians, where methodological variety and dissent are treated as essential rather than problematic features of ecological science. As someone “whose scientific work is characterized by a self-confessed contrarian streak”, according to one review of my book Birds & Flowers, I found that last chapter especially interesting.

Jeremy writes engagingly about the subject to which he’s devoted his life and there are some great quotable lines in the book. My favourite (which I’m hoping to use in a forthcoming paper, if the reviewers allow) is:

There’s almost literally no such thing as an “unusual” or “weird” empirical result in ecology…So shouldn’t our preexisting expectation about the effect of x on y always be ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ?

Are there any weaknesses to The Ecology of Ecologists? There are a few areas that I would have liked to have seen explored in more detail, for example the different approaches to ecology adopted by diverse cultures (e.g. Asian versus Western) or people coming at ecology from botanical versus zoological backgrounds, for instance. The value of large collaborative science in which different people bring their specialisms could have been discussed more fully. Ecology as a profession outside of academia is also not considered, which I think is a missed opportunity. Many graduates and post-docs go on to work for NGOs, government departments, and consultancies, and when given the opportunity to collaborate on the science, they bring a lot to the table.

I was also surprised to see no mention of how AI/LLMs might impact the field, which is a growing topic on Dynamic Ecology. In a future edition I could imagine an interesting coda to the Selection chapter where, at the end, Jeremy hopes that “in the future, selection against ineffective approaches [to studying ecology] can proceed a bit more quickly”. I can certainly see a role for LLMs in that respect, and we can learn a lot from the climate and meteorology fields.

In summary, The Ecology of Ecologists is a thoughtful and timely reflection on what ecology is and why its apparent untidiness is one of its greatest strengths. Drawing on decades of research and ideas developed through Dynamic Ecology, Jeremy invites us to embrace ecology not as a single, unified enterprise but as a discipline defined by methodological, conceptual, and intellectual diversity. Rather than seeing the field’s mix of scales, questions, and approaches as a problem to be solved, he argues that this plurality is precisely what gives ecology its resilience and explanatory power. His central message is both reassuring and challenging: no single way of “doing ecology” has a monopoly on truth, and progress depends on ecologists better understanding — and valuing — how differently their colleagues think and work.

The book is written accessibly enough for advanced students, but will be especially rewarding for professional ecologists who have wrestled with the field’s internal debates. I highly recommend it!

Book review: “Urban Plants” by Trevor Dines

Earlier this year I received an unexpected invitation from Bloomsbury Publishing to attend a book launch at Philip Mould’s gallery in London. Looking at the details I immediately said yes, because it combined three of my passions: natural history, art, and books! Not only that, but the topic of the book was one very close to my heart – the wildlife of our towns and cities.

Urban Plants is the latest addition to Bloomsbury’s British Wildlife Collection, a stunningly produced series that has set a new benchmark for natural history literature in this country. The author, Trevor Dines, formerly worked for the charity Plantlife, and is a real authority on urban botany. My expectations for this book were very high! So on the day of the book launch, Karin and I trundled down to the capital and spent part of the day at the National Gallery where, among other things, we enjoyed an exhibition by José María Velasco. As well as being a superb documenter of the 19th century landscapes of Mexico, Velasco was also profoundly interested in botany. We’d not planned it that way, but it was a nice coincidence.

The book launch itself was well attended and I found myself catching up with a few familiar faces from the world of British wildlife, and Trevor (whom I’d corresponded with but never met) treated us to a short reading:

I took the opportunity to buy a copy, had a quick chat with Trevor, who kindly signed the book, and then we headed back to catch a train.

So what do I think of Urban Plants?

It’s actually hard to praise the book too much without sounding unnecessarily gushy! But it really is one of the best books that I’ve read for a long time. In part that’s because it stirs deep emotions of me as a child, taking my first faltering steps into the world of natural history on the bomb sites and post-industrial landscapes of my native Sunderland. But it’s more than that: the author writes with elegance and authority on a topic about which he’s deeply passionate, and this comes through on every one of the amply illustrated pages. Trevor should be congratulated on producing a book that will be the go-to reference on the topic for many years to come.

And an important topic it is too: there’s no doubt naturalists who will sneer at the idea of urban botany, but (as the author points out) for many people in this country, the plants that they see every day in their home towns are almost their only connection to wildlife. For that reason alone it’s a subject to be taken seriously, and if a book like this can inspire more people to take a closer look at the plants with which we share our streets, roofs and walls, so much the better.

So do yourself a favour and take a walk with Trevor through the complex ecology and botany of built-up British landscapes. I learned a lot from Urban Plants and I highly recommend it as an addition to anyone’s Christmas list.

Book review: ‘The Dales Slipper: Past-Present’ by Paul Redshaw

Tomorrow I head to China for two months of writing, field work, talks, and student discussions at the Kunming Institute of Botany in China, a follow-up to the work that I did last year. It feels appropriate, therefore, to be reviewing a book devoted to a western European outlier of a group of orchids (the ‘lady’s slippers’) that have one of their centers of diversity in that country.

In The Dales Slipper: Past-Present, author Paul Redshaw focuses on ‘the’ Lady’s Slipper (Cypripedium calceolus), an almost mythological species in British botany, due to its extreme rarity, the secrecy and protectiveness about where it grows, and its tendency to be dug up by unscrupulous orchid collectors. And a fascinating (if sometimes frustrating) read it is too!

The fascination of the book lies with Paul’s ability to sleuth previously unknown facts from local people who were witnesses to the rediscovery and subsequent protection of what was thought to be the last colony of the species in Britain. Protection was afforded by ‘The Guardians’ who (of course) met in a pub and were sworn to secrecy and (of course) fell out when personalities and priorities clashed. They were replaced (ousted?) by a more formal ‘Cypripedium Committee’ that still exists today, but who (if the author is to be believed) are even more secretive than The Guardians!

Drawing on newly uncovered archives, personal testimonies, and previously unseen images, the book details the decades-long efforts – marked by secrecy, dedication, and conflict – to protect the species from extinction. It stands as the first comprehensive and fully referenced account of this remarkable conservation journey

It makes a compelling story of the kind I can imagine being a successful comedy-drama for television – think Detectorists with hand lenses.

I mentioned that the book was a frustrating read, too. That’s partly because there’s a big cast of characters, some of whom have the same names, and it’s easy to lose track of who they are and what they did, and when. Paul does provide a helpful list of the protagonists but I found myself feeling a bit lost in places. That’s not helped by the fact that the book would have benefited from professional editing to smooth the rough edges.

These minor gripes aside, The Dales Slipper will interest anyone looking for a deep dive into British botanical history via the world of one of our rarest and most iconic wild plants.

‘Why Do We Need Worms?’ long-listed for the School Library Association Book Awards!

Since early 2021 I’ve acted as a science advisor for some of the children’s books published by Usborne, beginning with Can We Really Help the Bees? The most recent is Why Do We Need Worms?, written once again by Katie Daynes and with amazing illustrations by Moesha Kellaway. I’m especially proud of my involvement with this book as in its early stages I suggested mentioning Charles Darwin’s fascination with worms. The book is aimed at ages 4 and upwards, though a reviewer has said that it’s ‘Perfect for my 3 year old grandson who loves looking at worms!’ So this book has to have one of the youngest Darwin readerships!

Why Do We Need Worms? was published last year and I’m delighted to say that this year it’s been long-listed for the School Library Association Book Awards in the 0 to 7 years Information Book category! It’s a great achievement for everyone involved and if the book gets short-listed, I will be sure to let you know.

The diverse nature of ‘nature writing’: in conversation with Jack Cornish and Ben Masters – 5th October

Why do authors write about ‘nature’? What are their motivations and how did they start their writing journey? Do they even recognise this label of ‘nature writer’?

These are just some of the questions I’ll be exploring with two other authors at the Market Harborough Book Festival on Saturday 5th October.

Jack Cornish is author of The Lost Paths, an exploration of the ancient pathways that have criss-crossed England and Wales since prehistoric times, the peoples who made them, and the landscapes through which they currently run. It’s a reminder of ‘just how precious these paths are, and have been, to the human story of this island’. I’ve only just started The Lost Paths, but what I’ve read so far is wonderful. Check out this recent review on The Great Outdoors site.

Ben Masters’ most recent book is The Flitting, an account of the final months of his relationship with his late father, a keen natural historian with a devotion to butterflies, and how they come to share ‘passions, lessons and regrets as they run out of time’. There’s a nice review of The Flitting by Mark Avery on his blog, and I have to agree with him, it’s a lovely book.

Coincidentally, earlier this year Mark wrote a review of the book that I will be discussing, my recent Birds & Flowers: An Intimate 50 Million Year Relationship, though I may also dip into Pollinators & Pollination: Nature and Society, because there’s at least one thing that unites the three of us as writers: a love of the poet John Clare! Ben discusses him at length in The Flitting, and indeed Clare provided the title of the book. Likewise, Jack name checks Clare in The Lost Paths, and I used the poet as the jumping off point for a couple of explorations of the importance and conservation of bees and other pollinators.

As well as discussing our roles as ‘nature writers’ we’ll be reading extracts from our books and answering audience questions. There will also be an opportunity to buy personally signed copies of our books. We look forward to seeing you there!

A new review of ‘Birds & Flowers’ in the Journal of Pollination Ecology

The reviews of Birds & Flowers: An Intimate 50 Million Year Relationship are starting to appear in blogs, magazines and journals. The latest, by Diane Campbell, has just been published in the Journal of Pollination Ecology and I’m so pleased that it was positive! I’ve only met Diane a couple of times at conferences but I have a lot of respect for her work. The review is fair and balanced, and gratifyingly enthusiastic, for example:

In this delightful book, [Ollerton] describes the ways that birds and flowers interact. As in his previous book, Pollinators & Pollination: Nature and Society, [he] takes a deeply personal approach to the subject. He combines anecdotes from his research travels around the world, to mountains of Kenya and Tanzania, the Andes of Peru, Brazil, and Nepal, among other places, with his contributions to, and masterful knowledge of, the recent literature…

The review is free to read and download from Journal of Pollination Ecology. I’m so glad that people are enjoying the book – if you’ve bought or borrowed a copy, please do leave a comment and let me know what you think.

Adaptable Elder – and a nice review of my book by Mark Avery!

One of the many things that I love about Common Elder (Sambucus nigra), and which I didn’t have space to properly convey in my article about the species last year, is just how adaptable it is as a species. The tree possesses a lot of what biologists term “phenotypic plasticity“. This is the ability of an organism to flexibly change aspects of its morphology or behaviour or physiology in response to differences in the environment. Plants are especially good at this because, if they find themselves growing in less-than-optimal conditions, they can’t just uproot themselves and leave for pastures new. This is obvious to anyone who has seen a houseplant struggling in a dark corner of a room: the poor plant will etiolate and bend as its yellowing foliage tries to reach the light from a distant window. The same plant grown on a sunny windowsill will be more compact, greener, and healthier.

When it comes to Elder, and indeed other trees, winter is often the best time to see this plasticity, when the trunks and boughs are not cloaked in greenery. On a coastal walk at Klintebjerg yesterday, I spotted three rather different phenotypes of Common Elder which nicely illustrate this environmental context dependency.

The first was a wind-tortured tree growing at the base of a low hill, directly in the teeth of the prevailing Kattegat weather, its trunk bent away from the sea and its branches lopsidedly pruned:

The second was a more fortunate specimen, growing in the lee of that same hill and allowed to spread its symmetrical arms, as though waiting to embrace any passing birds. It had clearly never been pruned back by the landowner, who had allowed it to grow as a fine, single-trunked small tree:

As we walked back down the hill via a narrow path, enclosed and over-topped by a fairy tale canopy of dense, twisted Blackthorn (Prunus spinosa), I spotted another phenotype, different again. I initially thought that they were the stems of a woody climber, perhaps Old Man’s Beard (Clematis vitalba) or European Honeysuckle (Lonicera periclymenum). When I looked closer it was clear that these were Elder, growing narrow and long, using the Blackthorn as support, as they struggled to reach up through the canopy to gain the light:

There were several individuals like this, presumably the result of seed dispersal by birds perched within the Blackthorn. I don’t think that I’ve ever seen Elder growing in quite this way before, but then how often do we get to peer deeply into the secrets hidden within a dense Blackthorn patch?

I had only planned to write about Common Elder today, but I can’t resist mentioning that, over on his blog, ornithologist Mark Avery has written a very nice review of Birds & Flowers: An Intimate 50 Million Year Relationship. He describes my book as having:

…a lightness of touch and tone that should not be taken for lightness of understanding….This is a fine example of a book which is pitched to increase the public understanding of ecology and evolution, and succeeds.

Thank you Mark, that’s very gratifying to read, and I’m glad that you enjoyed it!

Corrections to the first edition of “Pollinators & Pollination: Nature and Society”

Books are never perfect. In the run-up to publication of Birds & Flowers: An Intimate 50 Million Year Relationship, I am all too aware that this is a truth that’s a cause of anxiety, and sometimes sleeplessness, for all authors. One category of imperfection is tipographical* errors have been introduced at some point in the process of writing and editing. In the past these were corrected in the first edition of a book by the inclusion of errata slips, and such errors are sometimes important in determining the true first editions of older books. On page 20 of the first edition of Darwin’s Origin of Species, for example, there is a misspelling of the word “species”**. This was corrected in the second edition but is an important marker of an extremely valuable book, intellectually and (now) commercially.

A second category involves errors of fact or interpretation or expression that, with hindsight and reader feedback, require correction, or at least acknowledgement, by the author. These are the ones that really make an author squirm inside, even though we know that they are inevitable: we are, after all only human.

It turns out that there are a few examples of both categories in the first edition of my 2021 book Pollinators & Pollination: Nature and Society. Some of them have been corrected in the second edition, but if you purchased the first edition then these are what you should look out for:

P22 – ‘Unmated queens and males (drones) are produced by the colony later in the season’ changes to: ‘Unmated queens and males (drones) are produced by the colony from spring onwards.’

P30, Fig 2.9 – Correct ‘Tabaernemontana’ to Tabernaemontana

P51, Figure 3.8 – title – it should read C. rhynchantha [there’s an h missing]

P57 – ‘The bank that Darwin was referring to is on his property at Down House in Kent, and it was one he observed many times during his walks through the garden.’ changes to ‘The bank that Darwin was referring to is near his property at Down House in Kent, and it was one he observed many times during his walks in the area.’***

P146 – ‘I’ve even see them attack and kill honey bees’ should read: ‘I’ve even seen them….’

P169 – in the title for Figure 10.5, Anon (2019) should be Anon (1919) [in some presentation copies of my book I have corrected this and initialed the change]

P259 – this reference: Klein, A.-M., Steffan-Dewenter, I. and Tscharntke, T. (2003) Fruit set of highland coffee increases with the diversity of pollinating bees. Proceedings of the Royal Society B 270: 955–961. doi: 10.1098/rspb.2002.2306.

Should be replaced by:

Klein, A.-M., Steffan-Dewenter, I. and Tscharntke, T. (2003) Bee pollination and fruit set of Coffea arabica and C. canephora (Rubiaceae). American Journal of Botany 90, 153– 157. doi: 10.1046/j.1365-2664.2003.00847.x

The last two have yet to be corrected and will need to wait for the third edition:

P119 – the Rader et al. study did not include birds and bats, just insects.

P262 – “Nabhan, G.P. and Buchmann, S.” should read “Buchmann, S. and Nabhan, G.P.”

That final error is really embarrassing because, as I point out in the chapter ‘The Politics of Pollination’, their book The Forgotten Pollinators was an inspirational one for stimulating research and action around pollinator conservation! I can offer no explanation for why the order of the authors got reversed in my head.

My sincere thanks to those readers who pointed out some of these errors. My hope is that Birds & Flowers has fewer, but I may be fooling myself…

*You see what I did there?

**Proof-reading is boring and soul-destroying for any author, but really Mr Darwin?!

***If there is an after-life, I’d like to think that Darwin’s now enjoying this error after my snarky comment in the second footnote. To which I’ll respond: watch out for a doozy of a footnote about a Darwin footnote in Birds & Flowers!

Books as gifts this Christmas – here’s some ideas for adults and children

Although we are still in the early part of November, it’s never too soon to be thinking about buying Christmas gifts for friends and family. And what better gift than a book? Here’s a few suggestions for some that I’ve read this year that I think will make fine presents.

Who doesn’t love a good story, and Stephen King is a master storyteller. I’ve really enjoyed his more recent novels and Billy Summers stands out for me. It’s part thriller, part romance, and as always there’s a little touch of the uncanny. Very different, but just as much a page turner, is The Ministry for the Future by Kim Stanley Robinson. Although Robinson is known as a science fiction writer, this novel is set in the near future when climate change breakdown is forcing governments and businesses into making radical changes. As much as anything this is a road map for how we can get ourselves out of the current climate crisis.

Talking of which, Michael Mann’s The New Climate War should be read by everyone interested in understanding how big corporations have colluded with the media and governments to trivialise and misrepresent the problems that we currently face. I reviewed this and a book about the insect biodiversity crisis, Silent Earth by Dave Goulson, in this blog post.

If you are looking for a book to help young children understand the importance of bees and other pollinators then I can highly recommend Can We Really Help the Bees? by Katie Daynes and Róisín Hahessy, for which I acted as science advisor.

For the ornithologically minded you might want to consider the lavishly illustrated Hummingbirds: A Celebration of Nature’s Jewels by Glenn Bartley and Andy Swash. Those who love writing and art with an environmental focus would appreciate an annual subscription to Dark Mountain, which gives you two beautifully produced volumes every year. A couple of my essays appeared in earlier volumes and the quality of the contributions never fails to impress me.

There’s lots of great natural history authors and books to choose from on Pelagic Publishing’s list, including of course my own Pollinators & Pollination: Nature and Society! I especially enjoyed Ian Carter’s recent memoir Human, Nature: A Naturalist’s Thoughts on Wildlife and Wild Places.

For the budding or experienced cook, Niki Webster’s Rebel Recipes serves up some amazing vegan dishes that Karin and I have really enjoyed trying. And speaking of my wife, of course I have to include her Essential Companion to Talking Therapy as the perfect gift for anyone considering or currently undergoing counselling or therapy, or who is thinking about becoming a practitioner.

Finally, if you’re looking for particular book ideas or just like browsing through lists of what others recommend, there’s lots of inspiration over at the independent Shepherd site.

I hope that you’ve found this useful. Feel free to comment with suggestions for other books that you’ve enjoyed.

Published today: a new children’s book about bees and other pollinators!

One of the projects with which I’ve been involved over the last year has been advising on a new book for children about bees and other pollinators, called Can We Really Help The Bees? Written by Katie Daynes and wonderfully illustrated by Róisín Hahessy, it tells the story of what happens when a swarm of bees comes to the window to let a group of children know that they, and their friends the other pollinators, are in trouble. Can they help? Yes they can!

It’s been a real pleasure working with Katie and Róisín on this project for Usborne Publishing and seeing the ideas, text, and illustrations evolve over time. I’ve written a short post over at the Usborne blog with some ideas about how to get children involved in helping the pollinators, and I think that it’s worth repeating one of the things that I wrote: everyone can make a difference to the wildlife around us and no one is too young to be involved!

Because of my involvement with Can We Really Help The Bees? I wasn’t able to include it on my curated list of the best books about bees and other pollinators at the Shepherd site. But it definitely should be on there and is highly recommended!