How I Killed Pluto, and Why It Had It Coming Post 2

If there are two takeaways from How I Killed Pluto, and Why It Had It Coming, they are that Mike Brown loves astronomy and he loves his daughter. The book is definitely a personal-first, scientific-second overview of a very scientific person’s life. Mike Brown’s scientific side comes across bright and clear; before the birth of his daughter, he crunches the numbers around his wife’s contractions, trying to figure out when the best time to go to the hospital is. Although most couples probably do this, Brown’s language and methodology clearly displays his scientific approach to life. His scientific nature also comes through with his love of nature.

“When I first started looking for planets, I lived in a little cabin in the mountains above Pasadena. I have a feeling I was the only professor at Caltech at the time who lacked indoor plumbing and instead used an outhouse on a daily (and nightly) basis.I worked long hours, and it was almost always dark, often past midnight, when I made my way back into the mountains to go home for the night. To get to my cabin I had to drive up the windy mountain road into the forest, past the national forest parking lot, and down the end of a dirt road, and finally walk along a poorly maintained trail by the side of a seasonal creek.”

His love of nature and astronomy pushed him to live off the grid, even though he had to go through an extraordinary commute back and forth between Los Angeles to do so. I connected with this in a way, especially considering how much time I spend driving back and forth between Los Angeles and the San Bernardino mountains to ski. The duality of working in Los Angeles and living secluded in the mountains is super interesting to me. At times, this is what I’ve wished for in my life, even though I probably wouldn’t go to such extremes to do so.

Another fascinating part of the book is his discovery of the 2003 EL61 mass/Santa/Haumea (I know, very confusing names), and the story of the scientist who essentially plagiarized his discovery. Although the drama that ensued between him and and Dr. Ortiz over the plagiarism was fascinating, the most interesting excerpt from it was before he was even aware of the unethical behavior. He describes being afraid of future discoveries being less significant to the public here:

“I suddenly acquired a new worry. If the press started gushing about something potentially bigger than Pluto that turned out to be only a third the size of Pluto, what would happen in a few months when we announced the existence of something that really was bigger than Pluto? Would people simply say, “Oh yeah, we heard about that one already”? 

On so many occasions, I have felt similar worries. Over the different jobs I’ve had, both doing software engineering work and other things, there have been times when I’ve worked extremely hard to do something the right way, thoroughly, and planned similar unveilings. Then, when somebody presents something 25 percent of the way done similar to the things I’ve been working on, people tend to only focus on what was discovered first, even when it’s far less impressive. Brown seems to be a good sport about all of this, as he gave Ortiz the benefit of the doubt and respect along the way. I commend him for this. I don’t think I would’ve been able to maintain my composure in that way, especially considering the extent to which Brown dedicated his life to his work.

I enjoyed flipping through Brown’s story, but I don’t think I would recommend this book to a friend. When doing research about the book ahead of time, I noticed some reviews that said a lot of the book could’ve been cut down to be more concise. I’d tend to agree. A lot of the anecdotes were not focused and not tied into the overarching theme of the book enough, which was distracting. Overall though, I had no knowledge of the astronomy world prior, so I’m glad I better understand the profession now.