Imagine that everything we take for granted disappears tomorrow in a cataclysmic global event, and modern civilisation as we know it is all but obliterated. What would we need to know in order to rebuild a civilised, functioning society? This question sits at the core of The Knowledge, which Lewis Dartnell claims will “transform your understanding of the world – and help you prepare for when it’s no longer there”.

The premise for The Knowledge is simple: despite living in a developed nation, we have become disconnected from the knowledge, processes and skills that sustain us in our everyday lives. We take it for granted that whatever information we need, whenever we need it, can be found at our fingertips – literally. However, where once we used our memories and physical artefacts to record and store information, we now find ourselves largely reliant on virtual resources, where knowledge exists as bits of digital data on hard drives, or in clouds accessed from remote servers via the internet. How, then, will we find out what we need to know to survive if the lights go out for good?

First impressions might be that The Knowledge is just another “prepper’s manual”, regurgitating basic survival information that is already widely (and freely) available. But Dartnell’s book attempts to fulfil a different and arguably more significant purpose – that of setting out the fundamental scientific knowledge and processes necessary for mankind not just to survive, but to gradually rebuild a society capable of making the scientific and technological advances that have brought us to where we are today.

The key message is that, in the aftermath of the apocalypse, we cannot take even the most fundamental knowledge for granted

����Vlog

ADVERTISEMENT

Dartnell approaches his narrative as a thought experiment – a hypothetical exploration of the essential knowledge needed to reboot civilisation. He covers this vast territory by taking the reader on a whirlwind tour of the history of human endeavour in terms of scientific and technological discovery, with an overview of the scientific principles and processes essential to meeting societal needs. There is certainly plenty to consider, from sourcing the seeds necessary to restart agriculture, through developing automated machinery and instigating the industrial production of chemical compounds, to creating sophisticated transport and communications networks. The key message is that, in the aftermath of the apocalypse, we cannot take even the most fundamental knowledge for granted. Working out where we are, what time of day it is and how to perform the most basic physical measurements will all need to be rethought from first principles.

Where you start, of course, depends on how things have ended, and Dartnell’s “ideal” scenario is a fast-spreading, viral pandemic in which the human population is practically obliterated, but where the majority of resources remain intact. While this makes for a useful jumping-off point in terms of exploring the essentials for a societal rebuild, it would have been interesting to consider some of the alternative apocalyptic scenarios mentioned in the opening chapters, but which are not developed further, eg, the aftermath of a nuclear strike (some loss of life, but total devastation of landscape and resources) or a massive coronal ejection (no loss of life, but total loss of power and communications). These discussions need not necessarily be confined to the pages of a book, however: a dedicated website at and a Twitter feed () provide opportunities for readers to become actively engaged in, and widen, the conversations started in The Knowledge.

����Vlog

One of the most interesting questions to emerge from The Knowledge is how society might evolve the second time around. Will our quest to rediscover and relearn complex processes result in the same chance discoveries, such as X-rays, or might we accelerate our progression by leap-frogging over redundant stages in the development process? It also paves the way for a “green reboot” – in fact this seems almost inevitable since, as chemist and physicist Sir William Crookes noted in 1898, “we are drawing on the Earth’s capital, and our drafts will not perpetually be honoured”. Having depleted the Earth of a significant proportion of its fossil fuels, society will need to reconsider its requirements in terms of resources and energy consumption, and look to alternative sources of fuel and power. In the absence of industrialised chemical plants, at least for the first few generations, farming and agriculture will be organic by default, while an alternative economy will evolve as the items needed for survival gain currency over money.

Where The Knowledge really succeeds is in demonstrating the interconnectedness of knowledge, the importance of the scientific method in advancing society, and the “symbiotic relationship” between scientific discovery and technological advance. The interconnections are complex, and it would be interesting to see them mapped out visually in addition to being cross-referenced within the text. However, I think the pitching of the text is occasionally off-target for a popular science book. A general readership might struggle with some of the more technical language, or with detailed descriptions of complex machinery or abstract chemical processes (a glossary would certainly be helpful). Meanwhile, other seemingly important topics such as acid production appear glossed over, and are not considered in sufficient detail to be of practical value. This left me questioning how much of The Knowledge the layperson could, if push came to shove, actually put into action.

I also feel that more attention might have been paid to the societal implications of a post-apocalyptic reboot. While it makes for a neater and simpler discussion to strip away the influence of politics, economics or religion, in reality any future advances in science and technology will be intimately intertwined with human processes – just as they have been throughout history. Again, this may be a discussion that’s best carried over into the realm of social (or other) media, in which case I look forward to watching it unfold.

Dartnell has set himself a mighty, and courageous, task with The Knowledge, and in the main I think he succeeds. This book has certainly ignited my interest and curiosity to learn more about some of the scientific principles and processes critical to our existence, and the manual skills needed to keep the world going. I thoroughly enjoyed taking myself on a magical mystery tour of the internet and YouTube (via my loft to dig out my old A-level notes!) to explore further how science and technology have evolved, and how exactly certain processes work in practice. It’s a shame to think that Society 2.0 won’t have the benefit of watching James May explain how to make glass from sand, or a qualified engineer recount the finer details of absorption refrigeration.

So does The Knowledge deliver on its claim that it will “explain everything you need to know about everything”? Of course not. But it does explain an awful lot about the workings of our world in a way that is engaging, thought-provoking and (mostly) accessible. And while I’m not sure it will “transform our understanding of the world”, readers will certainly come away better informed, more knowledgeable about, and hopefully more interested in the fundamental science and technology necessary to rebuild a civilised society. Finally, will The Knowledge help us prepare for when the world as we know it is no longer there? There’s only one sure-fire way to answer that question, and to be honest that’s knowledge I can happily live without.