It
was just announced that a century-old hypothesis of Einstein's –
something about gravity waves – has been confirmed. (Yes, I know
this will be old news by the time this essay is published.) The
scientific evidence which has been touted as demonstrating its
veracity results from the collision of two black holes, and it
happened about a billion years ago – give or take. That's before I
was born and I wasn't there anyhow, so I can't confirm it personally.
The
physicist from whom I heard it on the radio was very excited. It
seems that this knowledge brings us closer to understanding the
beginnings of our universe (that's said to have happened with the
“big bang” but I wasn't there either – though some of my
favorite atoms may have been) and suggests a new approach to the
research on the subject. He said something about directing new
projects based on this knowledge – that it would open a new
“window” to the exploration of that field.
I
couldn't care less.
Well,
maybe I could. But not much less.
I've
written disapprovingly before about the amounts of money that our
nation (and other nations as well) put into such research. In fact
I dissed a lot of research in a variety of fields in The Golden
Fleece which appeared nearly three months ago. My conclusions
(they weren't stated explicitly, but I think they were obvious) were
that I supported (the late) Senator Proxmire, and I questioned the
wisdom of spending tax dollars – our generous if not voluntary
donations to the government – on research into the answering of
questions that we either don't have (especially those whose answers
are so obvious – as well as questions that are so inane – that
the research seems silly), or questions which will have no value for
us, or any likelihood of being of of significance to our children or
grandchildren – or even great-grandchildren.
I
don't wish to suggest that the questions, and the benefits that
research into them may provide, are totally without value. Indeed,
the research provides jobs for those who participate in it, whether
directly or in the manufacture of materials needed for it, and for
the papers that it yields, and the benefit of it adding bulk and
luster to the resumés of the
researchers, contributing to their academic prestige. But even if it
has neither of these consequences, for the true intellectual it
satisfies his (or her) curiosity. That may have killed the cat but,
as Einstein himself said,
Curiosity has its own reason for
existence. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the
mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of
reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of
this mystery each day.
It
should be remembered, however, that Einstein's most famed work was
done without the help of academia or government. He tried
“to comprehend a little of this mystery” without having others
pay for his doing so. His “annus mirabilis”
occurred in 1905, when he was working as a patent clerk. (It was a
government job, but the government contributed in no way to his
research. The credit for his discoveries is entirely his.)
We
spend large amounts of money on research. People are homeless,
starving, and in need of medical care. (The role of taxpayers in
what once were charitable endeavors is a separate subject, which I
have addressed in the past and likely will again in the future.) Yet
we spend money to determine what happened a billion years ago or will
happen a billion years from now (if our universe lasts that long).
And we send spacecraft and telescopes to explore inhospitable worlds
we will never visit. Or we explore earthly matters which may be
interesting to the researcher but are of no value to the rest of us,
whose taxes support their interests, thoughts, and endeavors.
There
is no minimizing of the value of curiosity. It is more difficult,
however, to justify the use of limited resources – resources that
could be applied to the solution of current problems – for the
purpose of simply satisfying someone's curiosity. In academia it's
called “pure” research, and revered for its purity. The curious
are answering questions without regard to any practical use for the
information they acquire. Perhaps someday someone will find a use
for it, but that isn't really relevant to what they're doing.
They'll do it anyway.
In
the meantime, however, it is valid to question whether taxpayers
should be supporting such curiosity of those who could use their
intellects to solve existing, rather than theoretical problems. The
greatest value of research is in the solution of problems that exist
today – not in those we may, or may not, discover tomorrow. If our
resources are limited, it makes the most sense to devote them to
problems we face now, not to what our descendents may find in the
future.
More
importantly, in a world that has more problems than it can afford to
solve, we have to get the biggest bang we can from the buck.