Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:

In this perceptive and provocative look at everything from computer software that requires faster processors and more support staff to antibiotics that breed resistant strains of bacteria, Edward Tenner offers a virtual encyclopedia of what he calls "revenge effects"--the unintended consequences of the mechanical, chemical, biological, and medical forms of ingenuity that have been hallmarks of the progressive, improvement-obsessed modern age. Tenner shows why our confidence in technological solutions may be misplaced, and explores ways in which we can better survive in a world where despite technology's advances--and often because of them--"reality is always gaining on us."nbsp;nbsp;For anyone hoping to understand the ways in which society and technology interact, Why Things Bite Back is indispensable reading.nbsp;nbsp;"A bracing critique of technological determinism in both its utopian and dystopian forms...No one who wants to think clearly about our high-tech future can afford to ignore this book."--Jackson Lears, Wilson Quarterly

Excerpt provided by Syndetics

From easily reversible eyestrain to crippling back, hand, and wrist pain, the physical problems of computing have important things in common. They are incremental. They develop slowly, often without a noticeable onset. There can be a sudden crisis of disabling pain, the result of conditions that have persisted for weeks or months. These are only indirectly measurable. X-rays and other imaging can show anomalies consistent with pain, but men and women with similar physical images may not have similar feelings. Above all, these conditions are shaped socially. Political conservatives usually insist on the existence of an objective reality and deny that scientific and even technological knowledge is socially constructed. But partly because there is no "dolorometer," no recognized test for pain -- only at best devices that may reveal suspiciously inconsistent responses -- conservatives and especially neoconservatives deplore the economic cost of computer-related claims and see neurosis at work, if not fraud. Liberals, who otherwise perceive the self-interest of medical providers in "new" syndromes and diagnoses, consider computer-related illness to be objectively real. Both sides would agree that injury rates tend to be higher where work is more stressful. Organizations using similar hardware and software have had such different experience with injuries that social processes must be responsible for part of the difference. But nobody understands yet what the processes may be and how they operate. In the outbreak of reported cumulative trauma disorders in Australia in the 1980s -- "the largest, most costly and most prolonged industrial epidemic in world history," according to one medical critic there -- there was agreement that medical attitudes were part of the problem and actually helped make it worse. But who was creating the unintended consequences? Was it the office workers who were reporting it, or their labor and feminist allies who helped promote oversensitivity to minor symptoms and even encourage outright malingering? (Australian trade unions are among the world's most socially and politically active, and workers' compensation laws reflect labor's political influence.) Or were sympathetic physicians helping "the powerless and dependent, and those who cannot otherwise express their righteous rage at their supervisors, employers and spouses," to use their "exquisitely symbolic pain and incapacity" to communicate distress, as one Australian doctor has suggested? Or were skeptical physicians helping to create chronic symptoms by refusing to take early reports seriously and putting the burden of proof on patients, as other analysts have argued? Either way, the epidemic was in part an unintentional consequence of medicalizing what the Australians called (following Commonwealth practice) repetitive strain injury. Not paying attention leads to injuries. But focusing on the physical problems of computing or anything else might have amplified the symptoms. Are sufferers hard workers who have driven themselves too far, coming forward reluctantly only when the pain is unendurable? Or are they consciously or unconsciously trying to escape from responsibility by medicalizing their problems? Questions that begin with seatpans and backrests, forward and backward tilts, microswitch clicks and wrist supports turn out to have answers that are psychological, organizational, and even political. The question is whether the ethical burden is on employers to control stress even at the expense of profits and "competitiveness," or on workers (whether data tabulators or editorial writers) to stiffen their upper lips as well as their lower backs. From the Hardcover edition. Excerpted from Why Things Bite Back: Technology and the Revenge of Unintended Consequences by Edward Tenner All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

Reviews provided by Syndetics

Library Journal Review

Believers in Murphy's Law-"if something can go wrong, it will"-might think this book proves it. Historian of science Tenner, who holds a visiting research appointment at Princeton University's Department of Geological and Geophysical Sciences, describes the "revenge effect," an adverse consequence occurring when "new structures, devices, and organisms react with real people in real situations in ways we could not foresee." There are innumerable examples, e.g., sophisticated medical procedures save lives but are expensive and leave patients vulnerable to other unpleasant complications, technologies to improve agricultural yield inadvertently lead to erosion, and office computerization has fostered a new epidemic of carpal tunnel syndrome. Tenner chronicles dozens of such cases, which are seen as almost inevitable owing to the complexity of many systems. With hindsight, some of his examples seem obvious-for example, traffic jams resulted from the mass production of automobiles-and Tenner's point is clear by the third chapter. Still, his conclusion that we must recognize revenge effects and act earlier to avert them is worth heeding. For general science collections.-Gregg Sapp, Univ. of Miami Lib. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Publishers Weekly Review

Even when used to better the world, technology fosters unforeseen, often unpleasant consequences that Tenner calls "revenge effects." For example, air-conditioned subways raise platform temperatures by as much as 10 degrees F; some computer users get painful, wrist-numbing carpal tunnel syndrome; flood control systems encourage settlement of flood-prone areas, inviting disaster; 6% of all hospital patients become infected with microbes they encounter during their stay. In a thought-provoking study, Tenner, a historian of science and visiting researcher at Princeton, looks at revenge effects that pop up in medicine, sports, the computerized office and the environment. Oil spills, erosion of beaches, back injuries, athletes' illegal use of steroids and mass extermination of bird species on the world's islands by ship-hopping rats mark this saga of bewildering, often frustrating change. Tenner's cautionary conclusion: revenge effects demand ingenuity and brainpower as technology continues to replace life-threatening problems with slower-acting, more persistent ones. (May) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

CHOICE Review

An axiom of the history of technology is that major innovations have unexpected (and usually, but not invariably, adverse) side effects. Tenner includes 275 pages of examples--from medicine, environmental engineering, business computer hardware and software, and sports--and attempts to introduce plants and animals into new environments. "Revenge effects" arise unexpectedly when a problem-solving technology induces (usually human) behaviors that preclude the technology from achieving its intended goals. Tenner contends that technology typically concentrates on acute problems but instead of solving them, spreads them out in space and time, creating new long-term chronic problems. No antitechnological polemicist, Tenner is cautiously optimistic, seeing the long-term impact of revenge effects as potentially positive. His argument is not totally effective; the middle chapters lack focus and spend more time on "how" our cleverness is often turned against us than on the "why" of the title. Nonetheless, the book represents the broadest and most systematic description available of this frustrating process. Especially thought-provoking for medical and computer science students, and for engineers. Brief but useful "further reading" list; extensive notes on sources. General; undergraduates; faculty; professionals. G. E. Herrick Maine Maritime Academy

Booklist Review

Tenner, a bright and polymath writer, investigates the unforeseen risks arising from the ever-intensifying complexity of technology. Take the most familiar of the four arenas he describes, the computerized office. In addition to complaints about backs, wrists, and eyeballs from imposing sedentary immobility, the computer creates the need to hire experts to fix crashes and glitches, which nullifies its vaunted asset of low-cost efficiency. Such unforeseen risks, or "revenge effects," are congenital to Tenner's three other arenas: medicine, sports, and environmental control of pests and natural disasters. Revenge effects in high-performance sports gear include making pursuits like football or mountaineering more dangerous or more boring. The flip side of inevitable vengeance, Tenner observes, is vigilance against the inevitable problems created by technological solutions, an unending battle he relates in an eclectic, impish, educating, and entertaining manner. A must for technology collections. --Gilbert Taylor

Kirkus Book Review

What do football helmets and laser printers have in common? According to Tenner, they exemplify a new sort of technological backlash that turns the promise of progress on its head. Tenner, a fellow at the Woodrow Wilson Center for Scholars, argues that progress in numerous fields of endeavor has been undercut by unanticipated ``revenge effects,'' which he describes as ``ironic unintended consequences'' of human ingenuity. Examples are myriad: antibiotics that promise the cure of age-old disease but end up breeding resistant microorganisms; imported wildlife that competes too successfully with native species; computer printers that create better-looking documents--and force everyone to desktop-publish memos that would convey the same information if handwritten. The examples are organized under several headings, from medicine and environmental disasters to pests (both animal and vegetable), computerization, and sports (which, interestingly enough, offers some of the best evidence of the thesis). The football helmet, designed to reduce injuries, actually encourages a more violent style of play, creating a new and more serious kind of injury. While Tenner claims to be neither pro- nor anti-technology, he often seems to press his thesis beyond useful limits, as in his observation that those who dwell near wooded areas must now be on guard against tick bites; this is neither a new phenomenon nor an effect of technology. He has clearly done an impressive amount of research, but his footnotes (which attempt to cover whole paragraphs in one sweep) do not let the reader easily follow his research; often an interesting and provocative quote will go unattributed. And a convoluted style often forces a reader to reread an argument that could have been more simply stated. Tenner's subject is undoubtedly interesting, and his examples will strike close to home for many readers; the book would be even better if he had not tried to inflate his useful observations into universal truths.