The obvious question from this year's science books is: who had the best Darwin? In Darwin's Sacred Cause (Allen Lane £25), Adrian Desmond and James Moore had the most radical, in all respects: somewhat upending their own earlier biography, they argue that his theory of evolution by natural selection was largely motivated by an abhorrence of slavery. By implying (in The Origin of Species he did no more) a common ancestry for all humankind, Darwin hoped to undermine the defence of slave-owners that African races were a different species from whites. It is an energetically argued case, even if it doesn't quite exclude other readings of his life.
For my money, Steve Jones's more traditional Darwin is the most appealing: the scientist's scientist, passionate about the most mundane corners of natural history, whether soil, barnacles or orchids. As a former expert on snails, Jones is a kindred spirit, but Darwin's Island (Little, Brown £20), his witty and insightful survey of Darwin's lesser works, could make nature-nerds of us all, drawing out the big themes from the seemingly trivial. Jones reveals Darwin as that rarity in science: simultaneously the hedgehog and the fox, knowing both the one big thing and the innumerable details.
As ever, the one big thing is what excites Richard Dawkins. It's surprising that he hasn't written The Greatest Show on Earth (Bantam £20) before: here, rather than simply explaining Darwinian evolution, he shows why it is overwhelmingly supported by the evidence. Alongside Jerry Coyne's Why Evolution Is True (OUP £14.99), this firmly consigns creationism and intelligent design to the dustbin, so long as reason carries the day. As Dawkins would be the first to admit, it's tragic that the case still needs making.
One might say the same of climate change, which has its own pulpit-basher in James Lovelock -who has himself crossed swords with Dawkins over Gaia theory. The older Lovelock gets, the more pessimistic he sounds, and The Vanishing Face of Gaia (Allen Lane £20) leaves no doubts about the dire future he foresees as the world warms up: he recently claimed, "We are as incapable of saving the planet as a goat is of being a gardener." John and Mary Gribbin call their biography of Lovelock He Knew He Was Right (Allen Lane £20) - if he is, we're in serious trouble.
The title of Graham Farmelo's life of British physicist Paul Dirac, The Strangest Man (Faber £22.50), says it all about this Nobel laureate who mixed relativity into quantum theory and pulled out antimatter. As Farmelo shows, Dirac was bizarre: he was rendered virtually autistic by a monstrous father, and his literal-mindedness and self-centred reticence are famous. To her letters desperately seeking emotional contact, his long-suffering wife, Manci, received tabulated question-and-answer like so much data. A sensitive study of a complicated genius.