When we are infants we play with things, feel things, put them in our mouths, crawl around until we bump into objects and explore and discover the properties of everything about us, and each new experience helps us build a concept of reality, which we then use as a framework for all of our subsequent behavior and our categorizations of the things we encounter.
Infants are naturally scientific. For example, a child’s epiphany about language—connecting the sounds people make with actual meaning—is pure science. The child consumes many different sources of data and searches for patterns. She’s not intentionally looking for the meaning of language, for in the beginning, she doesn’t even know to look for such a thing—she’s merely exploring and playing, and the noises made by other humans are among the many stimuli that seem interesting. But then an awareness begins to awake in her, a new and transformative way of experiencing what she’s encountered all along. She understands now that these—words—can have power. Certain ones make the adults behave funnily. She tries to speak some herself. A struggle ensues to master the concept of speech, with extravagantly positive results. And now finally she understands language—her mind has undergone a paradigm shift.
What distinguishes a scientist’s work from a child’s is that the child rediscovers conceptions that are common to us, whereas a scientist tackles phenomena that are not yet comprehended by anyone. But scientists can learn from the process of children. Indeed it’s the scientists who take risks, who misunderstand the dogma and run crazy experiments, and who view the unknown with fresh eyes—typically young scientists—who do the most revolutionary work. Older scientists can reject foolish notions and keep the youth focused, but they have trouble embracing the radically new. The youth are the architects of paradigms.
Skills are essential for science, but specific skills do not a scientist make. The actual science comes in the play—in the use of hard skills to futz around with the sillyputty of reality, and to generate epiphanies. This process is not about throughput, it’s about novelty; discovery; seeing the patterns that are perpendicular to the usual conception. Although a scientist can spend tremendous effort and time doing one task with utter efficiency, the most significant science often occurs outside of the lab. It is out there, at the beach or the cinema, that she experiences her earth shattering moment, and sees everything familiar anew.
But I don’t mean to imply that science is a pursuit for the lazy. A scientist must be utterly immersed in her problem if her trip to the beach is to benefit her. The boundary of our knowledge is mercurial and amorphous, and identifying it, and then being able to find the shape of its weaknesses, requires a deep knowledge of precedent. Although efficiency and skillfulness aren’t synonymous with good science, good science generally doesn’t emerge in the absence of these. Epiphanies spawn from intuition and knowledge, as well as a huge dedication and effort.
So how then do we judge progress in science? After a paradigm shift the goodness of the science is obvious, but before then it can be murky. While science often requires completion of roadblock tasks, ordinary definitions of productivity, such as ‘throughput’ or ‘hours of work put in’ or ‘speed,’ can lead us to stress the wrong factors. If the solution to a scientific puzzle is West, it’s not helpful to move North, even if you do it with utter efficiency. That being said, a scientist might need to travel North for a while to realize that West is the way. But the best science might involve thinking and reading about the meanings of North versus West, and understanding well that distinction before ever leaving the origin. Balancing contemplation and movement is all part of the craft.
Nowadays, your field—whatever it is—is probably starting to feel a lot more like my description of science. Tasks can be outsourced, but intuition cannot be. So nurture your flexibility and creativity. Be willing to work like a dog when it’s needed, but also make time for your passions. Remember that your trip to the beach might provide the epiphany that will revolutionize everything. And keep in mind that it’s not about effort—it’s about seeing your destiny like play-dough, and building the right intuition about how you must shape it.
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