Imperial Ambition or Science? “An Empire of Ice” by Edward J. Larson

By 1906, we still didn’t have a worldwide map! The missing pieces? Parts of Antarctica.

Would I recommend this book? My feelings went up and down throughout, but ultimately I lean toward a hell yeah—especially if you’re a science history nerd like me.

I just love learning about the history of science, as bigoted and misogynistic as some centuries can be. Because they were. But little did I know how those dynamics shaped the Antarctic exploration of the 1700s and 1800s!

Most books about Antarctic exploration focus on the expeditions themselves: the dangers, hardships, and your standard “great men” hero narrative. This book, however, shifts the focus to the science that justified these journeys in the first place: magnetism, meteorology, biology, geology, and more. It’s about how explorers prepared for the unknown, through the challenges of funding the expeditions and justifying it to the King or Queen (this goes for more than a century from Edwardian to Victorian times), and dealing with “the others” that wanted to reach the South Pole first. These were data-collection missions, but they were also wrapped in imperial ambitions and some seriously questionable beliefs—like the idea that surviving an Antarctic expedition made you the epitome of the still misunderstood “Darwinian fitness.”

The quest to reach the magnetic South Pole was equal parts science and PR. Science provided the justification—just in case they failed to reach the pole itself (spoiler: the Brits weren’t the first). Nonetheless, these expeditions shaped the scientific societies of the UK, forcing them to grow, compete, and, in some cases, squabble. For instance, the Royal Society looked down on the Geographical Society, treating it as a mere hobby club. That rivalry affected how expeditions were funded, planned, and ultimately carried out. At times being forced to go together.

But don’t let me dwell too much on the imperialist, “we’re better than you” attitude that permeated British exploration. This book is also an eye-opening, wonderful account of the scientific advancements that came from Antarctic exploration: improved methods, new ways to measure time, and breakthroughs in meteorology, geology, and even biology!

These early expeditions happened at a time when the theory of continental drift hadn’t been proposed, and Victorian England was still grappling with Darwin, Wallace, and Haeckel’s varied (and controversial) ideas about evolution. Only a few suspected that Antarctica had once been connected to Australia, South America, or Africa. And yet, the discoveries made during these harsh voyages laid the groundwork for our modern understanding of Earth’s history and processes.

So, if you’re also a science history nerd: by all means, go for this book. It’s fascinating, educational, and at times darkly funny. It doesn’t shy away from the troubling contexts of its time, but it also celebrates the drive for knowledge and the resilience of those who braved the Antarctic.

One last comment: the book goes chronologically by chapter. This means that each chapter starts in the 1700s and ends around early 1900s; you finish the whole century-long story on magnetism to change chapters and start again in the 1700s now to explore biology, or geology, or meteorology. I’ve read some reviews that really disliked it; personally: I found it oddly satisfying.