Taking a quick step away from genetics and genetic engineering for a moment to write about a slightly different field of biology—aerobiology. A somewhat obscure field of biology that really should not be; if aerobiology had been a more widely recognized and respected field in the 20th and 21st centuries, a major event from five years ago may have played out very differently.
I am, of course, talking about the COVID-19 pandemic. The idea that diseases like COVID could spread so easily through the air was not always seen as so open and shut. Even thinking back to the start of the pandemic, the messaging was very, very mixed. Aerosol droplets and handwashing received much more emphasis, while masks were initially reserved for hospitals. If we remember correctly, air quality was not an immediate concern during the early stages of the outbreak.
But the signs were there: Zimmer opens the book with a performance by the Skagit Valley Chorale that he attended. Back in 2020, in what is now a clear example of how well COVID can spread through the air, 87% of the group were infected by just the one person. Dozens of them came down ill, and three of them died. As horrific as this super-spreader event was, it really defied the dogma that the disease was being spread by large droplets that were not airborne.
I’ve read a number of books by Carl Zimmer before; he is an excellent science writer and journalist, and you know you’ll be in good hands when he decides to tackle a topic. Air-Borne: The Hidden History of the Life we Breathe is no different; it is both comprehensive, engaging, enraging, and perhaps concerning all in equal measure.
Zimmer’s exploration reveals that this is not the first time people have been confused about where infections come from and how they manage to spread. Prior to the development and acceptance of germ theory, miasma ruled the air. Interestingly, after the former gained widespread acceptance, there was a marked decrease in the idea that diseases could be carried in this manner. No one wanted to be seen as regressive. Which is a damned shame, as the proponents of both theories had some great public health ideas; pity some of those dropped out of favor.
What really flipped aerobiology on its head though—and, really, this shouldn’t have been as surprising to me as it was—was air travel. I did not expect both Charles Lindbergh and Amelia Earhart to pop up here, but they did! People really did go to some dangerous extremes to figure out just how high up in the air life could be found. One of the big pioneers here was Fred Meier (The Watermelon Man), who convinced Lindbergh and his wife to fly across the world to perform surveys for him. He was also instrumental in setting up a second survey that required the use of a giant hydrogen balloon named A Century of Progress.
Pity he was on the Hawaii Clipper when it vanished in 1938. This was quite a blow for the field he basically founded—the first time anyone’s heard of it, and it’s through a veil of scandal. Meier was also not the most prolific scientific publisher, but, thankfully for future aerobiologists, he had met up with two other critical researchers before this death, William (The Oyster Wizard) and Mildred Wells. And it’s through them the torch was carried a little further.
Zimmer spends a lot of time with the Wells, who were dedicated to the idea that air droplets could serve as a means of disease transmission. They conducted a number of innovative experiments together that never did seem quite enough to convince the skeptics. This is where aerobiology suffers another set back: the Wells were, by all accounts, very difficult to work with. While Mildred Weeks Wells was just seen as very pushy (as one of the few women with a MD qualification, I feel she kind of had to be), William Firth Wells was one very odd duck. It’s painful; we *now* know the pair of them were on the right track with regards to how many kinds of diseases could be spread. And they even played a role in pioneering the use of UV lamps to sterilize the air. It’s just that they—and William especially—were not at all easy people to be around. Hell, they could barely work with each other.
(Just compare William and Mildred Wells to the charismatic Louis Pasture, for example. William, especially, was his own worst enemy.)
Despite the difficulties with the Wells, someone did show renewed interest in the field—the military. Again this is all very frustrating to read; the Wells’ work got buried due to their lack of collaboration, which was a massive blow to public health. And then everything was consumed by an entity that had 1) a very different view of what public health consists of and 2) a strong desire to keep all their work secret.
It’s in the last few chapters that Zimmer tackles the history of the COVID-19 pandemic. Thanks to the over-focus on bioterrorism, previous US administrations had been spending their time fighting more, shall we say, outlandish threats. However, there was one ‘pandemic game’ modeled on a worst case scenario that played out in a hotel room in Central Park in 2019 that really got my attention; it still wasn’t enough.
I won’t go into too much detail here, but what bothered me the most is how rigid people were in the face of a global emergency. I understand making mistakes based on knowledge of the past. Hell, I did the same during the pandemic; most of my knowledge on coronaviruses was based on SARS, and SARS did not last as long or infect anywhere as many people as COVID-19. I thought we’d be lifting lockdowns a few weeks after Easter—good thing I was not paid to lead on public heath! But again, I was astounded with how long it took for masking to be recommended in the US, and for the World Health Organization to finally issue a statement own their website that COVID-19 was airborne: December 23, 2021.
This was way after the idea had percolated down to the general public from other sources; I will point out that this fantastic piece from El Pais was published over a year earlier. (One of my favorite pieces of science journalism from the pandemic.) Hell, Australia, opened their boarders (to citizens) prior to that announcement. I am very thankful for the group of scientists who finally pushed them to do so, but it was an uphill battle .
I was very frustrated with the last part of the book and I get the feeling Zimmer was as well. I’m not sure that we are that much better off than we were in 2020 with regards to preparing for a new pandemic. But as Zimmer himself tells us: The aerobiome is not going away. It’s fascinating to read about, but I was not comforted at the end. Still highly recommended.
For cbr17bingo, this is purple. Better seen here:
