Edward Caudill is a professor of journalism at the University of Tennessee, and he is not new to writing about Darwin. His previous book is Darwinism in the press: the evolution of an idea. Clearly, Caudill has a knack for identifying novel and interesting angles from which to tell the Darwinian story, a surprisingly delightful ability of providing new and fascinating insights into matters that many scientists, and even some historians, might otherwise consider dull and overanalyzed.

Darwinian myths is written in an unusual format and style, something in between a popular and a scholarly book. The prose is easy and captivating, while the reasoning is rigorous and backed by an ample collection of footnotes and bibliographical references. The final product is both enjoyable to the lay reader and very useful for the serious student of Darwinism. I simply wish that more books were written with both audiences in mind.

Caudill distinguishes two kinds of abuses of Darwinism: myths and misuses. To the first category belong misrepresentations of what Darwin and his supporters did or said. For example, most biologists are given the idea that Darwin was a very reclusive individual, only focused on his work for its own sake, and that he was completely removed from any action in defense of the theory of evolution. The good fight was fought by his "lieutenants", the zoologist Thomas Huxley (appropriately nicknamed "Darwin’s bulldog"), and the botanist Sir Joseph Dalton Hooker (who arranged the historic co-presentation of the theory by Darwin and Wallace at the Linnean Society in 1858). Following Caudill’s research, however, Darwin emerges as a very canny champion of his own theory. It turns out that he orchestrated from a distance Huxley’s and Hooker’s actions, even to the point of keeping tallies of favorable and unfavorable reviews, and instigating Huxley to engage Richard Owen, the main opponent of Darwinism in Britain, at every possible occasion.

Another myth of Darwinism that evolutionary biologists will regret to see shattered is the one surrounding the epic debate between Thomas Huxley and Bishop Wilberforce, which occurred in Oxford in 1860, just a year after the publication of the Origin. The story goes that the Bishop made a saucy remark about Huxley’s ancestors (he asked him if it was through his grandmother or grandfather that he claimed descent from a monkey). The legend goes that a very serious Huxley took the podium and calmly rebutted the Bishop’s arguments. He concluded with the remark that he would rather have an ape for a grandfather than a man possessed of great means and influence who employed those faculties merely to introduce ridicule into serious scientific discussion. This was supposedly followed by applause and cheers, as well as by the fainting of a woman, allegedly from intellectual exhaustion. Huxley and science carried the day; Wilberforce and obscurantist religion ended face down in the mud.

Well, besides Caudill’s reasonable remark that the woman more likely fainted because of the hot air inside the crowded room, what actually happened only partly follows the story line favored by evolutionists. First, the debate involved a dozen people, not just Huxley and Wilberforce. Second, there were at least two other equally prominent characters, one on each side of the argument: anatomist Sir Richard Owen and Hooker himself. Thirdly, the private correspondence of several attendees shows that Huxley’s remarks were probably barely audible in the midst of the noise generated by the crowd. Fourth, apparently Hooker, not Huxley, delivered the most significant scientific blows to the anti-Darwinians. Finally, an examination of the commentaries published in the newspapers immediately following the debate shows that the event’s importance was certainly not immediately grasped either by the attendees or by the public at large. Having participated in such debates, I can attest to the fact that nobody really "wins" debates, and certainly not on the spot, like the legend wants. But, as Caudill points out, debates are eventually won in the long run. Here, clearly Huxley and Darwin came out triumphant. The Darwinian theory of evolution by natural selection is the basis of all 20^th century biology. Huxley did deserve the appellative of "Darwin’s bulldog" because of the effort and skill he devoted over a long period of time to scientifically defend and to make popularly accessible the theory of evolution.

The third and last myth considered by Caudill is Darwin’s apocryphal recantation of evolution on his deathbed. The story was first narrated by Lady Elizabeth Hope to an audience in Massachusetts in 1915, and published that same year by the Boston Watchman-Examiner. Lady Hope had allegedly visited Darwin during the final weeks of his life, and he had told her that he had been a young man too quick to judge when he proposed his theory. He regretted having done so, and he was now studying the Bible, undoubtedly the most interesting book ever written. Needless to say, this story has been reprinted many times, and it is the delight of the hordes of creationists still infesting the United States and a few other parts of the world. Of course, as Caudill points out, there is not a single independent shred of evidence that Darwin ever did such thing. Furthermore, Lady Hope was an evangelist, unlikely to have been an impartial witness in these matters. Not only that, there are subtle but important historical inconsistencies in Lady Hope’s story, among them her claim that Darwin was bedridden for a long time before dying, and that she visited him in autumn. Darwin was in fact very much active until a few days before his death, and he passed away in April, far removed from the time of the alleged visitation. Caudill does concede that Hope may have visited Darwin’s estate, since she was preaching in the area around 1882, the year Darwin died. But that is all that is consistent with historical documentation. Why would only a stranger, and not Darwin’s close relatives or friends, know of his troubles with his own theory? Furthermore, Darwin was not at all a young man when he published the Origin (he was fifty). Finally, he certainly wasn’t one to publish anything by rash judgment. In fact, it took him decades to convince himself that he had barely enough evidence to publish a preliminary version of his ideas (that is how he considered the first edition of the Origin).

Caudill’s contribution extends from the debunking of the myths to a brief (perhaps too brief) analysis of how they were generated, and especially of why they are maintained. From this point of view, there emerges a fundamental similarity among human beings, scientists and creationists alike. We all need myths. We simply feel good if we have heroes and villains to embody the black and white facets of humanity’s quests, even though we may realize from our own life experiences that there hardly are any blacks or whites. For evolutionists, Huxley is the intrepid knight who humiliates the arrogant bishop. For creationists, Lady Hope is the simple faithful who captures the final repentance of one of religion’s most pernicious enemies. Well, I have to admit that my imagination as a young biology student was indeed fired up by the story of Huxley the "bishop-eater", and that I accept Caudill’s revisionism with an iota of regret. But only an iota, for a better understanding of reality is always more intellectually satisfying than a convenient and cozy fable.

The second part of Darwinian myths deals with what Caudill defines as the "misuses" of Darwinism. Social Darwinism and the role played in it by Herbert Spencer is shown to be certainly more complex than the widely known simplified version would have us to believe. Did you know that he used the phrase "survival of the fittest" in 1852, seven years before the publication of Darwin’s Origin? Caudill also re-evaluates the role played by Darwinism in justifying the Spanish-American war, concluding that it was much more a matter of imperialism than of science. Furthermore, science was primarily just a convenient prop for the eugenics movement that swept the United States before World War II, and it certainly represented only a serviceable background to the rise of Nazism. Overall, this second part of the book aims at putting the influence of Darwinism on history and society in the properly reduced perspective. Yes, Darwin’s thinking is fundamental in science, and has been (and still is) influential to some extent in many other spheres of human activities. But it would be a myth, and therefore a disservice to truth, to attribute to it a major role in every tragedy that humans have managed to stage throughout the 20^th century.