Imagine a road trip with three people crammed into the front seat of a battered truck. The famous entomologist E. O. Wilson is the driver, eager to talk all night long. I am riding in the middle, happy to listen. The third passenger is a Southern Baptist pastor -- a man who interprets the Bible literally, rejects the idea that humans evolved from lower forms, and believes this planet is a way station through which human souls pass to an eternal life of heaven or hell. As we barrel down the highway, I am enjoying myself immensely. On my right, the Baptist is looking uncomfortable.

For more than 30 years, E. O. Wilson has been a force in the environmental community. He has won innumerable awards, including two Pulitzer Prizes: his first, in 1978, for On Human Nature, in which he explained the influence of biology on social behaviors from religion and sexuality to aggression and ethics. Wilson, the man who introduced the word biodiversity to the world, today argues that the only way to stop the destruction of the earth's ecosystems is through a unified effort on the part of scientists and religious leaders. For this reason, he chooses in his latest book, The Creation: An Appeal to Save Life on Earth, to write a letter to an imaginary pastor.

"We have not met," Wilson begins, "yet I feel I know you well enough to call you friend. First of all, we grew up in the same faith. As a boy, I too answered the altar call; I went under the water. Although I no longer belong to that faith, I am confident that if we met and spoke privately of our deepest beliefs, it would be in a spirit of mutual respect and good will."

I wanted this book to succeed completely. It didn't quite. In an attempt to shift the pastor's view, the scientist offers a summary of his own. This personal manifesto covers a lot of ground, from the current environmental crises to how we can better teach the scientific method in our schools. The author's prejudices are never in doubt. Science is "the most democratic of all human endeavors... [It] generates knowledge in the most productive and unifying manner ...and serves humanity without obeisance to any particular tribal deity."

For the imaginary pastor, the occasional reference to tribal deities might be off- putting. As Wilson explores his self-described secular humanism, defines the role and future of science, and expresses his deeply felt fears for the earth, he does not always succeed as a diplomat.

Perhaps the best parts of The Creation come when the entomologist takes a few side trips into the natural world, affectionately describing the mandibles of the pitchfork ant, used to pierce and kill bristly millipedes, or the "micro-wildernesses" that surround us with an invisible glory. Who knew that the average person contains more bacterial cells than human ones? For Wilson, the natural world is a wondrous place, and he is frankly in awe.

At the end of his "letter," Wilson asks the pastor to acknowledge their differences and then forget them. "Surely," he pleads, "we also share a love of the Creation." The scientist hopes this shared love can bridge the gap, and I hope he is right. Throughout the country, other environmentalists and evangelicals are also trying to find common ground, and some are succeeding. No one expects the collaboration to be easy. Road trips, after all, can be exhausting. There are bound to be awkward silences and misunderstandings. With his own brand of fervor, Wilson has spelled out his beliefs and concerns. I am eager, now, to hear the pastor's reply.
-- Sharman Apt Russell