Reseña del libro "The Age of the Earth: James Hutton and Deep Time (en Inglés)"
James Hutton made his fortune out of soot. He and a friend worked out how to cook the black residue scraped from Edinburgh's chimneys into a pale crystalline salt that dyers and metalworkers would pay for, and which had until then come by ship from Egypt. It was a good business. It left him free to spend the rest of his life doing what he actually wanted to do, which was to climb into ditches and look at rocks. Everyone agreed the world was about six thousand years old. This was not superstition. It was arithmetic, done carefully, from the only continuous historical document anyone had. Hutton, draining a wet Berwickshire farm in the 1750s, noticed how much soil a single winter carried off, multiplied by the thickness of the rock under his boots, and arrived at a number so large that he declined to write it down. He never did write it down. He said instead that it was in vain to seek any computation of the time, and then closed his great paper with the sentence that made him immortal and got him accused of atheism: that in the history of the Earth we find no vestige of a beginning, no prospect of an end. This book takes that sentence seriously, which almost nobody does. It is not a claim that the world is eternal. It is a claim about the limits of a record that destroys its own evidence — because rock, as Hutton was the first to see clearly, is made of the wreckage of older rock, and every cycle erases what came before. The stone that survives to be read is not a fair sample of what happened. It is what happened to last. That is a much stranger and more modern idea than the one usually credited to him, and it runs from a Scottish sea cliff to the present argument about the age of the universe. Along the way: a doctor who never practiced, a bachelor with a son he supported by post and barely met, a two-thousand-page philosophical treatise that nobody has ever finished, a friendship with Adam Smith conducted over oysters, Lord Kelvin proving from thermodynamics that the geologists were wrong, and a young man named Rutherford in 1904 standing up in a dark room to tell him why he was. Hutton was also wrong. The Earth does have a beginning, it is four and a half billion years old, and we can now name the year the number was settled and the meteorite it came from. How a man can be spectacularly mistaken about his own headline conclusion and still be right about everything that mattered is the other story this book tells. Keywords: geology, deep time, James Hutton, age of the Earth, Scottish Enlightenment, history of science, uniformitarianism
