The best books on the history of science and knowledge transmission that capture our common heritage

I find this book outstanding for its various rare and extraordinary features: its expert coverage of the cleverly termed subject of ‘information overload’ in historical and modern contexts, the information explosion of Renaissance Europe, and the information revolution of our own time. 

It contains engaging accounts of knowledge collection and management in the comparative context of experiences from premodern Chinese, Byzantine, Islamic, and European cultures; fascinating illustrations capturing the book’s rich content;  and a wealth of primary and secondary sources, manuscripts and printed works, further enhanced by a comprehensive Index.

But above all, it is the book’s historically sensitive perspective that makes it literally ‘outstanding’: one not identifying a single factor, whether a technology, an institution, or cultural tradition, in explaining the nature and fate of our common heritage of knowledge transmission. 

I find this book the most engaging and innovative among several others by the same bestselling author for its novel approach to historical writing.

In her signature style of explaining key scientific concepts in accessible and enjoyable terms, the author integrates into one of the most fascinating histories of the so-called Scientific Revolution of early modern Europe and the Sun-centered universe proposed by Nicolas Copernicus and published by his pupil Rheticus, a two-act play.

Set as an imaginary dialogue between them next to a few others, mostly in their own terms, is an effective way of retelling that fascinating story.

I find this book fascinating and pioneering in more than one way. Not only does it uncover the historical development of the important science of optics in terms of theories of vision, the predominant form of the subject in premodern times.

But the book also covers key concepts and models in visual theory starting from ancient and medieval periods, including the extramission models of ancient Greek mathematicians and physicians, the intromission models of medieval Islamic and European natural philosophers, and the critical combination of those models and disciplines in generating dependent breakthroughs.

This is among a few monographs devoted to the subject that successfully draw on our common heritage in documenting and explaining the course of the field’s transmission and transformation. 

I find this book on the history of zero intriguing, and the contradiction embodied in its opening title captures a concept that is at once attractive and problematic.

This book, atypically opening with a chapter titled "Zero," and delightfully creative in other ways, presents historical concepts of zero not only as refreshingly non-linear, being termed anywhere from afterthoughts to casual alterations, rather than natural or logical progressions, but also as cross-cultural, involving Eastern Sumerians and Indian traditions and Western Greeks and European traditions, significantly in parallel, not as temporal or geographical extensions of each other.

I find this book valuable for its humanized approach to the history of science and its emphasis on the human response to major conceptual developments.

The book is rich with instructive and inviting treatments of major developments within the astronomical traditions in particular, from critical episodes within Greek, Babylonian, medieval, and early modern traditions, to decisive moments leading to what it termed the "Copernican Revolution."

Despite a limited coverage of pre-Copernican developments, the book’s stories around humans adopting and abandoning scientific concepts and models have wider impacts than any specific case, on our understanding of how knowledge develops and transforms.