Richter's Scale: Measure of an Earthquake, Measure of a Man

Charles Richter is virtually the only seismologist that most of us have heard of, but almost all of us know the name. What, however, was it he did, exactly? And even if it was important, why should we care about his personal life? Well, his personal life was strange, so the idly curious might be titillated by it. The first question, though, is more directly relevant: Until somebody devised a method of quantifying earthquakes, there was no way to approach any estimate of danger. Buildings (including not just houses and schools but bridges, highways, dams and power plants) could have been designed to be earthquake-safe without Richter. But the cost can be high, so it would be wasteful to overbuild where the hazard is slight. Underbuilding can be catastrophic. The Tangshan earthquake, as recent as 1976, may have killed 750,000 people. The Chinese government has suppressed the real cost. The 2004 Sumatran quake, on the other hand, which killed close to 200,000, was not so much a matter of building design as of monitoring and evacuation warnings. So Richter's Scale is a fundamental tool by which to manage our lives. He announced it in 1935. Amazingly, according to geologist turned biographer Susan Elizabeth Hough, many people think it is a machine, like a butcher's scale. It is not a thing but a concept to organize a database. It took an unusual sort of mind to work out the scale, one capable of holding vast amounts of (at the time) diffuse data, while also having the insight to pick out the relevant relationships among the facts and the application to grind out the numbers. The last was no easy task before the digital computer. Hough speculates, at great length, that the kind of mind needed is the sort of oddly-wired mechanism found in persons born with Asperger's syndrome. This is speculative, but Richter left all his personal papers to his alma mater, California Institute of Technology, so a great more about Richter's personal demons is known than for most famous people. Much of it is in the form of poetry -- real poems, with rhymes, regular meter and punctuation. Hough finds his poems somewhat lacking in artistry. That's a matter of taste. I would rate his poetry above almost any winner of the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in the past generation. If Richter had Asperger's, and if it helped him to do significant science, it also caused him lifelong misery in his personal relationships. Although he wrote much, what he meant was not transparent. Hough has to make many speculative judgments, which she does with skill. Still, it is kind of creepy to probe that deeply into anybody else's mind -- if that, in fact, is what we're doing. Hough speculates that Richter wanted it done, otherwise he would not have left such intimate data in a public archive. Along with a collection of science fiction magazines going back to earliest days of "Amazing Stories." "Richter's Scale" is definitely what we stupidly call an "adult" book, but Richter himself, despi