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If you write fantasy or science fiction (F/SF), you quickly learn just how complex the world is and how difficult it is to describe it well and adequately explore the implications of your choices. When I write science fiction, I'm particularly cautious about anything related to physics: everyone (including me) knows that this stuff is "rocket science", and since I'm not a physicist, I try to tread lightly. Any time I discuss hardcore physics with a physicist, I'm reminded of how poorly I understand the details of really scary-complex stuff such as relativity, quantum mechanics, and cosmology. (On the other hand, it's reassuring that even though physicists understand this stuff much better than I do, they don't really understand it all that well themselves. If pressed, they'll generally admit this.)
Unfortunately, physicists know very well how complex their field is, and when they become F/SF writers, they often develop a certain arrogance towards lesser fields such as biology. In doing so, they make a fundamental error: the assumption that expertise in an extremely complex field (physics) gives them expertise in (or the ability to quickly learn the high points of) what appears to be a much simpler field (biology). In making that assumption, they forget that even a minimal study of biology takes 3 years of reasonably intense coursework and lab work -- followed by 1 or more years to obtain an M.Sc. and at least 4 more years to obtain true mastery with a Ph.D. Even "simple" subjects such as biology turn out to have surprising depths and complexities that rocket scientists aren't aware of, and you're not going to master the basics of that field without putting in several years of rigorous study.
This subject [update: rant?] arises because I'm currently reading Benford and Niven's The Bowl of Heaven, which is an evolutionary descendent of Niven's Ringworld series: the basic plot is that you dump a bunch of humans onto a Big Dumb Object -- in this case, a ginormous bowl-shaped habitat traveling through space, using its sun as a source of energy for propulsion. Antics then ensue as they try to figure out what's going on and how to survive. Cool setup, mostly interesting (though shallow thus far) characters, and it's holding my interest. But to be clear, this is a book-length infodump about cool science clad in just enough character and plot to make it a novel rather than a speculative essay.
What keeps throwing me out of the story, apart from the poor editing* and surprisingly poor writing** (given that Brin and Niven are some of the leading lights of this field) is the appallingly weak grasp of even the most basic biology. Take, for example, the notion that the humans can simply eat most of the local fauna because it has DNA (thus, proteins) similar to that of Earth life. Possibly Brin and Niven have never heard of the pufferfish toxin in fugu, snake venom, and the enormous range of plant toxins (e.g., solanine, digitalis, caffeine) that have evolved to discourage herbivores. Extraterrestrial proteins, even if based on terrestrial DNA, are likely to be complex and difficult or impossible to safely consume; even if the proteins are safe, the many other chemical components of meat are likely to be tricky. [Update from halfway through the book: They do handwave this issue later in the story, but long after the biologist POV character should have raised and dealt with the problem. They get into some interesting discussions of chirality of molecules, but ignore more basic and important points.]
* The worst glitch early in the book occurs is two different characters removing what appears to be the same piece of shrapnel from a supporting character's arm in separate operations that occur in adjacent paragraphs. Hello? Continuity? [Update from halfway through the book: A new and egregious continuity error: after taking great pains to describe the constant and profound monitoring of one group of humans imprisoned by the aliens, those clever primates somehow manage to bypass that monitoring and escape. Not by clever ruses or destroying the monitoring system, but rather by forgetting that the monitoring was occurring.]
** I had to go back and reread many phrases or even complete sentences to ensure that I understood the meaning, and in some cases, that meaning could not be obtained from the words on the page. I had to infer what happened by connecting the dots before and after the description. [Update from halfway through the book: The unclear writing remains a problem.]
As another example, there's the implausible notion that you can simply drink river water without fear, which is true of relatively few bodies of water. Even if there are no parasites or bacteria in the water (unlikely), there are often inorganic toxins to be wary of. [Update from halfway through the book: Ditto with the water. Again, sort of patched long after the point should have been raised. But any experienced hiker, including the POV character, would know some basic precautions to take to minimize the risk of drinking natural water.]
Finally, the notion that a bunch of city slickers can wander safely through a complex ecosystem stocked with predators is just wacky; it's the kind of ignorance that you'd expect from someone who has only hiked in the tame wilderness around cities, where most or all predators have long since been exterminated. [Update: And yet another misunderstanding of basic ecology: the notion that animals who have not encountered humans would largely ignore them as not being threats. That's sometimes true in environments such as the Galapagos, where there were no natural predators for land animals until after the arrival of humans, but emphatically not true in any environment like that of the book, where there are many predators.]
If you're going to be writing a story that depends on knowledge of science, don't assume that reading a few articles on the subject or perhaps even a textbook will give you all the knowledge you need. (I learned this lesson when I relearned modern genetics from a textbook and then tried to apply this knowledge to edit genetics research manuscripts. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.) Find someone who is an expert and bounce your ideas off them first, then ask them to review the results you've created based on their feedback. It will stop you from looking foolish, and will probably also produce a better and more interesting story.
[Update from midway through the book: Also, not matter how good you get as a writer, insist on a good editor and pay attention to their advice. I've published tons of nonfiction in the past 20 years, and each new article has been an opportunity to learn about my flaws as a writer and have a chance to fix them.]
Full review of the book in a few days in the F&SF forum.
Unfortunately, physicists know very well how complex their field is, and when they become F/SF writers, they often develop a certain arrogance towards lesser fields such as biology. In doing so, they make a fundamental error: the assumption that expertise in an extremely complex field (physics) gives them expertise in (or the ability to quickly learn the high points of) what appears to be a much simpler field (biology). In making that assumption, they forget that even a minimal study of biology takes 3 years of reasonably intense coursework and lab work -- followed by 1 or more years to obtain an M.Sc. and at least 4 more years to obtain true mastery with a Ph.D. Even "simple" subjects such as biology turn out to have surprising depths and complexities that rocket scientists aren't aware of, and you're not going to master the basics of that field without putting in several years of rigorous study.
This subject [update: rant?] arises because I'm currently reading Benford and Niven's The Bowl of Heaven, which is an evolutionary descendent of Niven's Ringworld series: the basic plot is that you dump a bunch of humans onto a Big Dumb Object -- in this case, a ginormous bowl-shaped habitat traveling through space, using its sun as a source of energy for propulsion. Antics then ensue as they try to figure out what's going on and how to survive. Cool setup, mostly interesting (though shallow thus far) characters, and it's holding my interest. But to be clear, this is a book-length infodump about cool science clad in just enough character and plot to make it a novel rather than a speculative essay.
What keeps throwing me out of the story, apart from the poor editing* and surprisingly poor writing** (given that Brin and Niven are some of the leading lights of this field) is the appallingly weak grasp of even the most basic biology. Take, for example, the notion that the humans can simply eat most of the local fauna because it has DNA (thus, proteins) similar to that of Earth life. Possibly Brin and Niven have never heard of the pufferfish toxin in fugu, snake venom, and the enormous range of plant toxins (e.g., solanine, digitalis, caffeine) that have evolved to discourage herbivores. Extraterrestrial proteins, even if based on terrestrial DNA, are likely to be complex and difficult or impossible to safely consume; even if the proteins are safe, the many other chemical components of meat are likely to be tricky. [Update from halfway through the book: They do handwave this issue later in the story, but long after the biologist POV character should have raised and dealt with the problem. They get into some interesting discussions of chirality of molecules, but ignore more basic and important points.]
* The worst glitch early in the book occurs is two different characters removing what appears to be the same piece of shrapnel from a supporting character's arm in separate operations that occur in adjacent paragraphs. Hello? Continuity? [Update from halfway through the book: A new and egregious continuity error: after taking great pains to describe the constant and profound monitoring of one group of humans imprisoned by the aliens, those clever primates somehow manage to bypass that monitoring and escape. Not by clever ruses or destroying the monitoring system, but rather by forgetting that the monitoring was occurring.]
** I had to go back and reread many phrases or even complete sentences to ensure that I understood the meaning, and in some cases, that meaning could not be obtained from the words on the page. I had to infer what happened by connecting the dots before and after the description. [Update from halfway through the book: The unclear writing remains a problem.]
As another example, there's the implausible notion that you can simply drink river water without fear, which is true of relatively few bodies of water. Even if there are no parasites or bacteria in the water (unlikely), there are often inorganic toxins to be wary of. [Update from halfway through the book: Ditto with the water. Again, sort of patched long after the point should have been raised. But any experienced hiker, including the POV character, would know some basic precautions to take to minimize the risk of drinking natural water.]
Finally, the notion that a bunch of city slickers can wander safely through a complex ecosystem stocked with predators is just wacky; it's the kind of ignorance that you'd expect from someone who has only hiked in the tame wilderness around cities, where most or all predators have long since been exterminated. [Update: And yet another misunderstanding of basic ecology: the notion that animals who have not encountered humans would largely ignore them as not being threats. That's sometimes true in environments such as the Galapagos, where there were no natural predators for land animals until after the arrival of humans, but emphatically not true in any environment like that of the book, where there are many predators.]
If you're going to be writing a story that depends on knowledge of science, don't assume that reading a few articles on the subject or perhaps even a textbook will give you all the knowledge you need. (I learned this lesson when I relearned modern genetics from a textbook and then tried to apply this knowledge to edit genetics research manuscripts. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.) Find someone who is an expert and bounce your ideas off them first, then ask them to review the results you've created based on their feedback. It will stop you from looking foolish, and will probably also produce a better and more interesting story.
[Update from midway through the book: Also, not matter how good you get as a writer, insist on a good editor and pay attention to their advice. I've published tons of nonfiction in the past 20 years, and each new article has been an opportunity to learn about my flaws as a writer and have a chance to fix them.]
Full review of the book in a few days in the F&SF forum.