What a Plant Knows: A Field Guide to the Senses

What a Plant Knows is a rare and beautiful piece of science journalism. Author Daniel Chamovitz's writing threads a needle with an aperture so fine that it is only rarely successfully accomplished: in elegantly simple language that is accompanied by a gentle sense of humor and deep integrity, he guides the reader to a new door of knowledge in a fashion that guarantees one will step through it. And once he/she steps through it, the reader's appreciation of what a plant can sense and remember (yes, remember, in a very specific sense) will be irrevocably altered. This is not a dry and dusty tome. Though the phrase "I read it in a single sitting" more commonly applies to fictional thrillers (e.g. The DaVinci Code), it's applicable occasionally in science writing, and it's applicable to What a Plant Knows. Chamovitz, is a natural born teacher. When the reader wants to know "How the heck does a plant know which way is up, and which way is down?", Chamovitz refuses to plop the final answer out in one paragraph, instead, teasing the reader along the actual historical pathway that elucidates what we now know. And in so doing, he brings the full beauty of any given aspect of plant biology into focus, but ALSO brings to light the beauty and power of science that is well done; science done by people with a careful but insatiable need to know; science done by people whose need to be accurate exceeds their desire to prove their own theory right. Chamovitz has the startling belief that the unvarnished truth is more fascinating than hyperbole, and hence What a Plant Knows is completely absent the hype and goofiness of The Secret Lives of Plants. You won't, after reading this book, find yourself crooning your favorite songs to your tomato plants (plants, Chamovitz convincingly demonstrates, really are deaf). But despite the fact that Chamovitz eschews sensationalism, what he says about the sensory life of plants, and what a plant can "know" and "remember" (the author very carefully defines what he means by those terms) is indeed both fascinating and sensational. The book is just plain fun. Besides getting to learn terrific words like statoliths (essential for a plant to know which way is up, which is down), Chamovitz ups the relevancy factor multiple notches by linking the knowledge he presents to the reader with real life applications. He, for example, lets us know just how it is that flower growers get boat loads of chrysanthemums to bloom just in time for Mother's Day. Growers of Northern California's inhalable cash crop use this knowledge in what they call their "light dep" (light deprivation) season. Plants, front and center, are the rock stars of this fascinating book. But also in starring roles are the folks that quietly, carefully, and with determination, track down the truth about the way our world works: scientists. They look good in this book. And so does science. Chamovitz's gentle, firm, funny, exploration of what tricks that plants have up their sheaves is full of integrity and passion. Treat yourself to it.

Whether you're a scientist, or just curious about how plants do some of the amazing things they do, this book has more than enough to keep you entertained. The book is organized in chapters that represent the different senses: Smell, Taste, Hear, Feel, Memory... However, instead of just harping on about how plants are able to do some of the things we associate with sight, for example, Chamovitz instead breaks down how we perceive sight and then how some of the same proteins that allow us to perceive photons are also present in plants, and how this would allow the plant to interact (grow towards the light) with its environment. This book is NOT a quackery that tries to anthropomorphize plants. It instead breaks down plants, and animals as well, into key molecular functions that make it a living being. That's not to say that there isn't beauty within each chapter. The fact that we're surrounded by stationary organisms that can detect chemicals that tell them to ripen (smelling), that grow towards the light (sight), that fold up when touched (touch), and can remember previous stresses (sometimes even in the next generation), is not only remarkable, it is beautiful. Chamovitz uses science to communicate beauty, bringing life to a remarkable kingdom most of us barely take time to notice, and fascination to all the readers. This is a short, simple read, filled with wonderful molecular biology, plant anatomy and physiology, and scientific history. The book is appropriate for all ages: inspiring scientific curiosity in younger readers, as well as awakening dormant fascination and query in some of the older readers. I'm a graduate student in Genetics working with plants and I loved this book.

Nonscientists with an interest in plants, such as gardening enthusiasts, should read this book. It appears to be very scientifically based, indeed the noted popular science magazine, Scientific American, is the publisher. The theme is how plants sense and respond to their environment. The book thus explores how plants "feel" light and respond to it. Also discussed is plants' reaction to touch, as well as other stimuli. The book can be understood by the nonscientist, though there are parts that became a little too technical for me. In addition, the organization is a bit off and sometimes chapters seem to end in what I thought should have been the middle of a discussion, leaving me waiting, in vain, for more. This book works very well in the Kindle version. There are footnotes, but tapping takes the reader back and forth. A real plus on a tablet connected to the Internet is that several of the footnotes have direct links to You Tube videos that actually show a short video picture of the described event. What book can do that? For example, there is a picture of the American dodder weed plant growing into a tomato plant to feed on it. The video of the Venus fly trap closing in on a fly and then on a frog is also very worthwhile. On the other hand, some of the links have hyphens in them, probably as they were in the book form, and this means that the links don't work and you have to go to a website and type in the link directly. All in all a very interesting book, with some minor flaws that led me to give it four instead of five stars.

The best two popular science books I've read this year are Tim Birkhead's Bird Sense: What It's Like to Be a Bird (Walker, 2012) and Daniel Chamovitz's What a Plant Knows: A Field Guide to the Senses (Scientific American, 2012). Both are models of good popular science. The authors are eminent in their fields: Birkhead teaches and does field study in and around New Zealand, Chamovitz directs the Manna Center for Plant Biosciences at Tel Aviv University. They provide solid and up to date information on cutting edge subjects; they write crisply and succinctly; they are generous in acknowledging the work of fellow scientists. (Darwin emerges -again--as a giant for his pioneering work in plant science.) Chamovitz's summary of the work in plant biology should put to rest forever the notion that plants thrive on Mozart and wilt under a dose of Jimi Hendrix's Band of Gypsies, because, as he attests, the one sense plants do not have is hearing. But plants do bend toward light, Venus flytraps snap shut on bugs that land on their leaves and exceed a certain length (which means there is more meat in them), and leaves curl when touched, sense certain smells and react to them, and reorient themselves toward up and down when turned. Plants are not intelligent, Chamovitz cautions, but they are aware. Both books are a pleasure to read and the conclusions reached are intriguing.

LOVE this book....it's my go-to book for relaxation and reading....no stress, just enjoyable. The science is wonderful behind the experiments to show how plants appear to smell, taste, feel, hear and know where it is, what it remembers...it's not like an animal, since they have no brain, but to us it looks like it could be. Information is beautifully explained and so interesting....has made me look at plants in a more appreciative light...although I always loved plants....this gives you another dimension. The author explains how the experiments are carried out so it's understandable. Each section stands alone and is fascinating.

this was a surprisingly excellent book. I expected a kind of advocacy text, with extravagant claims of sensory awareness that seem necessary to bridge a scientific understanding of a non-human organism to a readership in which that understanding provides no adaptive advantage to our daily life. it is a remarkable book, for example, in explaining that plants respond to different colors and duration of light to conditionally shift into one behavioral state or another, since it is without a nervous system but must be able to respond to its environment, both in terms of its seasonal growing cycle, but also in terms of its immediate environment. so he manages to convey the language of light for example as it informs the behavior and growth patterns of a plant, and how its biology is adapted to optimized its capacities. if you find that kind of non-human exploration of how other life forms experience their being in the world, then this is a magical book, and you cannot find it in a textbook or a classroom because that is not how we teach or present science. this is a book of passion and vision and art, by an aging scientist who has wished to model a plant in a way that is unique and deeply enriching while at the same time unnecessary to the day. so it will have a limited appeal.

Three stars is still above average! But I'll start with what I didn't love. It's already a short book—163 pages, large type. And there's soooo much filler. For example, five pages complaining about an undergrad's experiment, conducted almost 70 years ago, that suggested plants could hear. Which included her photo—the only image of dozens of scientists mentioned. Perhaps to stress that she was just a middle-aged housewife with (as he points out) stodgy taste in music? I wasn't sure what the point was. Especially when he tacked on another page at the end of the chapter, admitting that while his previous edition said plants can't hear, that's since been proven false. But his error, he continues, is different from when metaphysical types (like the undergrad) are wrong, because they won't admit they are wrong. Toward the end of the book, he also concludes definitively that plants do not suffer, or have dignity, and the entire Swiss government is foolish to suggest otherwise. Ahem. But, in between the filler, you'll find polished gems of fascinating information. Once he gets going, Chamovitz jumps from a 6th-grade writing level (pretty normal for pop-science books aimed laypeople like me) to high school STEM student. These pearls of information are tight, intriguing, and beautifully edited. He usually starts by explaining an elegant experiment—with diagrams—that prove plants can "see," "hear," "feel," "communicate," and "remember." Really gets into the cellular details. And, without anthropomorphizing the plants, he compares them to similar physiological activity in humans. I read those twice or three times, so I would remember them forever. The book totally delivers, but you've got to slog through a bit of hubris to get there.

We as a species find it very easy to identify with other animals and we are adept at imagining anthropomorphic qualities in them but we seldom feel the same with plants. In this book `What a Plant knows', Daniel Chamovitz examines how plants see, feel, hear, smell and remember and shows us that the genetics underpinnings are the same as us, though they took a different evolutionary path in the last one billion years. Starting with Darwin's contribution to the study of plants (it is amazing how much a single man has contributed to the field of evolutionary biology), Daniel looks at the different `senses' from a plant's point of view, the role of the various genes and how they have evolved to create the huge diversity in the plant kingdom that we see today. The best thing about the book is the way Daniel defines the fundamentals of each `sense', how we humans use that sense and how it differs when it comes to the realm of plants. Maybe not as eloquent as Richard Dawkins or as technically deep as Nick Lane, Daniel Chamovitz brings a different style of science writing that I found fascinating. Explaining the concepts in a very clear and simple manner, while not dumbing it down, Dainiel has done a remarkable job. Though the book is on plants, I found its coverage of genomics (from the basics to the complex) one of the best that I have seen. (Never seen a better one line definition of `Epigenetics'). We take plants for granted and see them basically as food for us. Though we acknowledge their greenery, beauty and other contributions to making earth a habitable place, we still never take them as seriously as we would consider animals or birds. However any one who reads this book will start looking at plants differently. From the carnivorous venus fly trap to the stately oak tree, we will start admiring the innovations that our cousins have come up with using the same genetic code that we share with them. Don't miss this book - it will enhance your senses!

Gostei. Meu e presente.

plantes que l'on aime déjà,sinon on aurait pas acheté ce livre très bien écrit et bien documenté. Je recommande sans réserves aux amoureux de plantes et de nature !

Reasonable cientific approach but easily understood. Good for a gardener or a conservationist.

Es in buen libro! A mi hija adolescente le a encantado, le facinan las plantas.

Everyone no doubt recalls the idea that plants respond to music or to their owners' talking to them... In this book, the senses of plants are explored both in their complexity as well as in their differences to our own. In spite of all of the information, What a Plant Knows is engaging, understandable for all readers, not only those who have an education in sciences. Various misconceptions about the feelings and perceptions of plants are cleared up, but in a way that people who have subscribed to these ideas are not ridiculed. Much of the information is helpful in dealing with houseplants (they just plain dislike being touched) , and the description of their senses makes the world of plants appear truly alien, yet with elements we all share with them. Whoever loves plants or is even vaguely interested in them will find this book highly readable, and a definite keeper.