Where have all the geniuses gone?

Nernst, Einstein, Planck, Millikan and Laue in 1931. From Wikimedia commons.

Is scientific genius gone for good? No more Darwin or Einstein on the horizon? That’s the intriguing and slightly provocative question recently raised by UC Davis psychologist Dean Keith Simonton in the comment section of the journal Nature. Simonton has extensively written on the topic of science creativity in books and articles, and here’s how he sums up the problematic:

“Geniuses have played a decisive part in science in two main ways. First, they have founded new scientific disciplines […]. Second, geniuses have revolutionized established disciplines. […] Yet, in my view, neither discipline creation nor revolution is available to contemporary scientists.”

Should science be apolitical?

Read the other day in the magazine the Atlantic: “The danger of making science political”, by Puneet Opal, medical doctor and professor of neurology at the Northwestern University Feinberg School of Medicine. Opal reflects on the relation between science and politics; he observes that, in the US, science is associated with the Democrat party, and he asks the question: why is it so?

Opal’s article is echoing another piece published recently in Nature, “Science must be seen to bridge the political divide”, by Daniel Sarewitz, from the Consortium for Science, Policy and Outcomes at Arizona State University. Sarewitz complains about a very US-centered situation, that is, the fact that most American scientists seem to side with the Democrats against the Republicans. He takes as an example the letter written by many Nobel laureates in support of Obama’s reelection in 2012. This bias, Sarewitz claims, is a bad thing for science. He writes:

“To prevent science from continuing its worrying slide towards politicization, here’s a New Year’s resolution for scientists, especially in the United States: gain the confidence of people and politicians across the political spectrum by demonstrating that science is bipartisan.”

Has popular science writing become too wordy?

It’s probably a bit unfair to ask that question, but I can’t help it. These days, I feel like most of the recent science books I read dilute interesting information into too many pages. Well, it could be that the majority of readers prefer long books. It may be true, but it’s definitely not my case. [To be precise, what I mean by “recent” is what has been published in the past ten to fifteen years.] 

Thinking of what I read in the not-so-distant past, I find for instance: “The elegant universe” by Brian Greene (1999), 448 pages; “The stuff of thought” by Steven Pinker (2007), 499 pages; “A guinea pig’s history of biology” by Jim Endersby (2007), 499 pages. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not questioning here the quality of the books. Greene’s book is an informative introduction to string theory, Pinker’s is a clever journey into linguistics, and Endersby’s is a highly original work on the history of model organisms. I really enjoyed reading Endersby and Pinker; I didn’t enjoy Greene that much, but it might be the topic. But quality notwithstanding, could they have been shorter without losing of their substance? 

The tree of life versus the rhizome of life

Tree by Haeckel (1866). Source wikimedia commons

The metaphor of the tree of life—which illustrates the common descent of all life on Earth—was popularized by Darwin in its Origin of species and later by his contemporary Haeckel, but apparently its roots can be traced back as early as the 18^th century in the writings of various authors (Archibald,2009). On a different line, it also of course echoes the biblical tree of life mentioned in the Genesis.

However, about a decade ago, authors such as W. FordDoolittle (1999) have cast doubt on the tree as a valid representation of the history of living organisms. Since then, articles that question the tree of life have flourished¹. And the debate is far from being settled.

A tree or a rhizome?

Based on the recent development of comparative genomics, the microbiologist Didier Raoult suggested in the journal the Lancet that Darwin’s tree of life should be replaced by a rhizome of life (Raoult, 2010). Raoult sees the rhizome – a complex net of interconnected roots – as a more faithful representation of the history of living organisms.

Something scientists should consider about nature

Here, for a change, I want to wander into philosophical territory. I should first admit that I am rather ignorant of it, since I never studied philosophy past the high school level. But my interest remained vivid and I read philosophical books regularly. More important, I believe that every scientist has to keep an eye – even if it is half-open – on philosophy. Isn’t science the daughter of philosophy? (After all, science used to be “natural philosophy”.) And ironically, aren’t I a doctor in philosophy (Ph.D.)?

One year ago I was talking about philosophy with a colleague in the lab (although I can’t remember how the discussion drifted to this topic!). At some point my colleague said that he couldn’t find any use in philosophy, and this baffled me. I mentioned the philosophy of science and Karl Popper as a counter example, but retrospectively I didn’t need to be so specific. Philosophy is important per se— if it has practical applications for scientists it is a good thing but not its final goal. 

Nonetheless, I started thinking about examples of philosophical inquiries that have repercussions in the day-to-day life of scientists, and I realized there’s plenty. Here I would like to share one which I think is essential: the reflection on nature and natural phenomena.