When Benjamin Franklin coined the expression, "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure," he was referring to fire safety ... but the adage is equally suitable to any number of modern realities. In The Preventioneers: Diseases, Disasters, & the Discoveries That Changed Our World, author Barry R. Davis takes a look at Franklin and seven other examples when people took action to stop the bad things from happening before they occur, rather than trying to fix problems after the fact.

Prevention isn't always among society's priorities, particularly when governments, powerful industries and average people on the street are often opposed to changes that might cost money, reduce profits or slightly inconvenience them. As Davis notes in his conclusions near the end of the book:

Prevention is usually easier, less costly, and more impactful. Yet it remains difficult. People and societies resist action when benefits lie in the future, especially if costs are immediate: money, effort, habit change, or even small risks set against large benefits. Resistance persists even when the evidence is overwhelming.

Still, there have been visionaries who keep trying. I shan't list all of Davis's examples here, but let's look at a few of the highlights.

Benjamin Franklin is best known for being a Founding Father of the United States, as well as his international diplomacy, his experiments with electricity and his many inventions, but Davis here examines Franklin's endeavors to prevent fires from starting and, if they do start, from spreading and, if they do spread, from getting beyond the community's ability to control. Franklin's passion for the subject stems from major fires that he experienced in Boston, Philadelphia and London, and he devised and promoted simple steps to stop such catastrophes from occurring.

Ignaz Semmelweis was obsessed with discovering why so many women died after childbirth in what doctors in 1840s Europe called "childbed fever." It took the death of a colleague and an unfortunate number of deaths among his own patients -- caused by his custom of performing autopsies before attending births -- that led to his epiphany: doctors were killing patients by not washing their hands between procedures. Ironically, his efforts to discover the cause of such high mortality rates led to many more deaths because of the sheer volume of autopsies he performed, but there's some solace to be found in the fact that it led to a solution that ultimately reduced the number of childbed deaths overall. Still, his colleagues mocked his findings, despite his statistical proof, and he died in an asylum before the medical community came to embrace his simple, life-saving precautions.

Sara Josephine Baker, who was one of the first women to earn a medical degree in the United States, dramatically reduced infant mortality in New York City by introducing new standards of care for babies, including basic education for new mothers. Her work was so successful that nearly three dozen male doctors sent a petition to the mayor asking that Baker's Bureau of Child Hygiene be disbanded because it "was ruining medical practice by keeping babies well." Baker took it as a compliment, but it was not the first or last time her work was dismissed or derided by colleagues because of her gender.

Other topics include suicide prevention, efforts to warn the public about the dangers of tobacco, and several concurrent crusades to improve vehicle safety. But the most impactful chapter, to me, is the last one.

James Hansen was not the first scientist to sound the alarm, but beginning in the late 1970s he has been among the most vocal campaigners against the devastating effects of global warming and climate change. It is an issue that could signal the end of life as we know it, but a lot of people -- including the current U.S. administration and far too many of this nation's citizens -- are unable or unwilling to accept any measures to address the problem that are costly or inconvenient. At this rate, the cause of death for planet Earth will be simple stubbornness, I fear.

The history is interesting, and the examples Davis provides are often inspirational ... or, when faced with public obstinance, a little terrifying. In any case, The Preventioneers is insightful, educational and, I hope, eye-opening. It is an important book.

Davis, according to the press release, is a physician, biostatistician, and professor emeritus of public health at the University of Texas who spent his career "studying why prevention succeeds and why it fails." His book, the release explains, "is narrative nonfiction about the psychology of prevention itself exploring why societies struggle to act before disaster becomes undeniable, why prevention successes often become invisible, and why some of history's most important figures were people who noticed patterns everyone else ignored."

While noting the public's resistance to change, even when it's beneficial, Davis offers a strategy for success:

We need to look more closely at the marketing industry's accomplishments and tap into the public's underlying beliefs and aspirations to create effective campaigns. If prevention campaigns are successful, their messages will become part of popular culture, and convincing people to take action will become easier. If an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, perhaps an ounce of persuasion is worth a pound of knowledge.

Good advice. Let's make it happen and, maybe, save some lives ... as well as the planet.