As an avid reader with a keen interest in non-fiction, particularly in the realms of science and history, I was drawn to Vaclav Smil’s latest work, Invention and Innovation. The promise of insightful critiques on the trajectory of human ingenuity, especially concerning the overhyped narratives surrounding innovation, really piqued my curiosity. Smil, with his reputation as a favorite among intellectuals and his knack for detailing the nuances of human progress, seemed like the perfect author to guide me through this exploration.
In Invention and Innovation, Smil takes a clear-eyed view of past inventions—some that have failed to deliver on their promises, others that have led to disastrous consequences, and a few that remain tantalizingly out of reach. The book’s structure is both engaging and methodical, making it fairly digestible even for those not deeply versed in scientific history. One of the positives that resonated with me was how Smil elucidates the critical difference between invention and innovation, reinforcing the idea that not all inventions lead to successful applications. This notion is particularly relevant in an age awash with new technologies that promise to revolutionize our lives, such as AI and genetic engineering.
Another strong point of the book is Smil’s use of historical examples to reinforce his thesis. For instance, he delves into airships, nuclear fission, and supersonic flight—technologies that we were once told would dominate our future but have largely underperformed or failed to materialize as anticipated. I appreciated how these examples are presented without sensationalism; they serve as sobering reminders that human creativity is often met with significant challenges.
However, there are also drawbacks worth mentioning. Some readers have pointed out that Smil can sometimes delve into overly technical explanations that may alienate readers who are not familiar with scientific jargon. While I found most of the prose comprehensible, I did encounter a few sections where the depth of scientific detail felt a bit cumbersome. A more casual reader might find these parts a challenge.
Additionally, while Smil’s “wish list” of inventions we urgently need offers food for thought, it sometimes feels more like a call to arms than a practical roadmap. The urgency he conveys is palpable, but I found myself wishing for more concrete steps on how we might realistically approach these challenges. That said, the wishlist itself ignited my interest in conversations surrounding upcoming technologies, such as hyperloop travel and nitrogen-fixing cereals, which I previously hadn’t given much thought.
Despite these drawbacks, my overall reading experience was fulfilling. Smil effectively fulfills his mission to correct the common overhype surrounding innovation. He argues that our expectations often lead us astray, and by grounding our ambitions in reality, we can better prepare for the future—something that not only met but exceeded my expectations based on the book description.
In conclusion, Invention and Innovation is a thought-provoking read that blends historical analysis with a sharp critique of our contemporary expectations surrounding technological advancement. While it could benefit from slightly more accessible language and actionable insights, the depth of Smil’s knowledge and the engaging examples he provides make it a valuable addition to the discourse on human ingenuity. I wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone interested in understanding the complexity of innovation and its real-world implications. I give this book a solid 4.5 out of 5 stars for its informative and sobering narrative that encourages readers to think critically about the promises of invention.