Feynman's Perspective on Art and Science
Art versus science — a classic battle between expression and explanation. As children, we're told we're inclined to prefer one over the other depending on whether we're left or right-brain dominant. Do you have an appreciation for the abstract or a thirst for understanding? This is yet another false dichotomy resulting from our desire to label things — black or white, right or wrong, this or that?
I finally watched The Pleasure of Finding Things Out, the simply and appropriately named interview of Richard Feynman from 1981. Feynman's childlike expressions of joy gripped me as he explained the origins of his curiosity, his successes and failures, his views on science, and more.
The interview begins with Feynman recounting a discussion with an artsy friend who held up a flower and said, "Look how beautiful it is…I, as an artist, can see how beautiful this is, but you, as a scientist, oh, take this all apart and it becomes a dull thing."
Like any good scientist (and friend), Feynman explained his friend's flaws:
“I see much more about the flower than he sees. I can imagine the cells in there, the complicated actions inside, which also have a beauty. I mean, it’s not just beauty at this dimension of one centimeter; there is also beauty at a smaller dimension, the inner structure.”
This shot of a rose petal was taken by photographer Oliver Meckes and biologist Nicole Ottawa using a color-scanning electron microscope.
After just a few minutes, I was enthralled with Feynman's takes, his delight, the wonder in his words, and the simple lessons he shared even though his life's work was in the most complex of domains. Here are 4 more lessons from Feynman's The Pleasure of Finding Things Out:
I don't have to be good because they think I'm going to be good.
Many of our actions are for others — not in a charitable way to help others but out of an egotistical desire to please, impress, and meet the expectations of people around us. External pressures lead people to work jobs they don't like, buy things they don't care about, and worry about what people they don't even know think about them.
Feynman was guilty of external motivations during his post-war transition from working on the development of the atomic bomb to academia. After working on the world-changing project, Feynman was hired at Cornell, where he claimed he "wasn't wonderful." He was clearly in a depressive state and struggling to find meaning in his work. Only after stripping external expectations was Feynman able to free his mind and do his best work — ultimately earning him a Nobel Prize (which we’ll cover shortly):
“I realized a new principle, which was that I’m not responsible for what other people think I am able to do; I don’t have to be good because they think I’m going to be good. And somehow or other, I could relax about this, and I thought to myself, I haven’t done anything important, and I’m never going to do anything important. But I used to enjoy physics and mathematical things, and because I used to play with them, it was in very short order [that I] worked the things out for which I later won the Nobel Prize.”
I've already got the prize.
Most industries have an award circuit in which the "winners" step on stage, thank their families, and accept an honor for their "work." In mine, it's the superabundance of "Top Financial Advisor" designations, many of which are paid for or result from quid pro quo arrangements. Our desire for recognition runs deep, but Feynman believed the real prize was in finding things out.
Feynman won one of the world's top honors — the Nobel Prize. It may be impressive to most, but Feynman couldn't have cared less:
“I don’t like honors. I appreciate it for the work that I did and for people who appreciate it, and I know there’s a lot of physicists who use my work; I don’t need anything else. I don’t think there’s any sense to anything else. I don’t see that it makes any point that someone in the Swedish Academy decides that this work is noble enough to receive a prize-I’ve already got the prize.”
By chasing external praise, honors, or awards, we're distracted from the critical work and don't recognize the real prizes. The prize is in doing your best and discovering something new — finding things out.
The difference is epaulets.
Who deserves our respect? It's easy to be dazzled by people in high places, even if we don't know their path or understand the nature of their character.
The influence of Feynman's father is undeniable, both in developing his prowess as a scientist and in his values. Feynman's skepticism of experts and authorities is apparent throughout, and perhaps it originated from his father's disdain for the unworthy praise:
“This man has the same human problems, he eats dinner like anybody else, he goes to the bathroom, he has the same kind of problems as everybody, he’s a human being. Why are they all bowing to him? Only because of his name and his position, because of his uniform, not because of something special he did, or his honor, or something like that.”
Feynman's father warned against confusing the uniform with the man, a lesson that's as relevant today as ever.
I don't have to know an answer.
When the interview was recorded in 1981, Feynman was towards the end of his life (he passed in 1988). Perhaps the most special lesson he taught was that it's ok not to know. Being curious and open-minded is crucial to learning, discovering, and finding things out. But Feynman was also content and unfrightened by not knowing. He didn't invent stories to calm himself about "being lost in a mysterious universe without having any purpose, which is the way it really is so far as I can tell" — he simply continued his quest for truth.
Having spent a lifetime exploring the unknown, Feynman was comfortable with the yet-to-be-known and the unknowable. There's a real beauty to the balance between seeking truth and an appreciation for mystery. It's better to doubt than believe that which might be wrong. In fact, Feynman was full of doubt, saying, "I'm not absolutely sure of anything, and there are many things I don't know anything about."
Feynman's intellectual honesty is model-worthy. If one of the world's greatest physicists can admit ignorance, indeed, I can too. And if we can all be more honest with ourselves, we'll more quickly approach truth and avoid unnecessary and costly conflicts.
