I'm not sure what to make of this book. It contains four themes "condensed" from a set of lectures the author gave in 1992, and have now been published in 2011. They were recorded, and the author edited them at the time - but not the point of betraying his straying thoughts. They intermittently retain the oral feel, which makes for lively reading. As often happens in a lecture hall, however, where one speaks without notes, a clear structure is lacking. In an oral setting, this is OK: charisma and rhetorical brilliance (and the author is brilliant) paper over the thin structure. On paper, the text reads confused, however, with lots of leads leading nowhere.
Indeed, it seems as the author, lost in his thoughts, had tried to find his way forward by "going Greek" - spending a lot of time on what the old Greek philosophers meant on this or that. Thus half the first lecture - and even larger parts of the remaining ones - is devoted to a review of some aspects of Greek philosophy and derivative schools. On page 112 he is asked by one of the participants why he is telling the story of Greek philosophy - to which he replies: "My aim was to tell a story that would not be too boring and enlightening to some extent." I'm not sure that he has succeeded on either count, and that this cameo treatment of the history of epistemology, once set in print, does justice to the subject. There are far more thorough treatments of Greek philosophy on the shelves.
The first chapter: "Conflict and harmony" deals with the question whether the material world is structured harmoniously or not. This would be a terrific subject. Some see "intelligent design" throughout, others "chaos" or maybe "lack of purpose" (and I'd add a position in between: there may be local systems, some spiced with complexity, haphazardly connected). The author choses to tackle the subject from a hermeneutic point of view: "What I am interested in is how, under what circumstances and in what personal ways, people acquired a liking for certain patterns. Why, for example, do so many people believe in a reality that not only remains unmoved by their actions but controls every detail of their behavior?" (pg. 13). Note the term: "many people" - we should be talking here of what Richard E. Nisbett calls "folk metaphysics" or "silent culture". The interaction between ecology, geography, and social systems would be indeed an interesting take on how certain scientific worldviews of ancient people emerged. Alas, having posited the question, the author ends up discussing a few Greek philosophers - mainly Thales, Xenopahnes, and a bit of Plato - elite all, with reflections on the Greek theatre thrown in at the end.
Jumping now to the third chapter: "The abundance of nature" tackles a very important issue. Knowhow is embedded in people. If we want to make it "portable" we need to transform it into "knowledge" - discover "underlying principles" that can be applied independently of the "knowhow bearer". The price of such an extractive process of abstraction is loss of information - particularly of the material context in which the knowhow was gathered- and of the skill in dealing with the latter. In engineering or astronomy this may not matter too much. In the social sciences this process might be deadly (as a rule of thumb, if a social system has a history, abstraction is not the way to go. My pet "hate" is the economists who took history out of economics and pretended - on the basis of a short time series - that they could successfully condense a living economy into a "rational expectations" model.) How much abstraction one would allow is a matter for topical accommodation, not principle discussion. Again, after having posited the subject in the first few pages, the author spends the rest of the time on Pythagoras, and the discovery of irrational numbers.
Chapter four bears the title: Dehumanizing Humans. It begins with the assertion that a "chasm [has grown] between nature and feelings". He continues on pg. 95: "Because experience and experiment have been successful. Successful at what? Successful at bringing peace, or at making people more loving? Not a chance!" I'm puzzled by this outburst. If the author argues that science has wrong priorities, I'll second the motion. If he thinks we should change method so as to create biological research that gets "scientific" results but also (collaterally?) makes "people more loving" as well, I must ask how he intends to achieve this. "Will to result" has even less of a track record than "will to power". To my knowledge ethically-driven and greed-driven research do not differ in method - just in results (and the benefits accruing to the power structure). After this outburst the author gets lost in Plato's Euthydemus. His thoughts surface briefly to advise us that practice better not be separated from theory - I'd fully agree on pragmatic grounds: too many avoidable errors derive from lack of skills in handling "context" (but this applies just as much to philosophy as it does to engineering, or science: we elide the material context at our peril). The end of the lecture is on the small problems Galileo had with the Inquisition.
A word on the title: I've found nothing in the book to justify such an insult to "science" - whatever "science" maybe. It may be the publisher trying to trade on the author's reputation after his death. As I said in the beginning: I'm not sure what to make of these lectures, which have been published 20 years after being given.