The Big Bang

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.