I Am a Physicist

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CONTENTS

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ForewordChapter 1. Ways and Goals.Chapter 2. A Discoarse on the Use of Science.Chapter 3. We Are Not on an Uninhabited IslandChapter 4. We Have a Colloquium Today.Chapter 5. The Doors to Science. . . . .Chapter 6. Some History .Chapter 7. The First Attack on Common SenseChapter 8. Capitulation . .Chapter 9. The Present DayChapter 10. ChemistryChapter 11. BiologyChapter 12. PsychologyChapter 13. Physicists Engage in Science.Chapter 14. Broad Is Your Road . .Chapter 15. Physicists and Lyricists. . .

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FOREWORD

Professor Alexander Kitaigorodsky, Doctor ofScience in physics and mathematics, is welIknown not only among his professional coIIea-gues but to a wide circle of readers as weII, for heis an ardent popularizer of science.

In I Am a Physicist, Prof. Kitaigorodskytakes up a difficult but worthwhile task: thatof introducing the young reader to the world ofscience and showing the world surrounding himthrough the eyes of a physicist. He has succee-ded remarkably in th is endeavour. A scientistin love with his profession, he conveys the comp-lexity of the problems faced by contemporaryphysics, the intensity of scientific quest andthe excitement involved in it with flare and ima-gination.

If there is one thing Alexander Kitaigorodskydoes not lack it is versatili ty. The range of prob-lems he raises is truly staggering. What is themeasure of patience? Is telepathy possible?Is money spent on scientific missions and con-ferences justified? What is the relative importan-ce of the natura l and applied sciences? What does

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the word "explanation" mean? What, if any,are the differences between man and machine?How has physical thinking changed since Aristotle's time? How should a young man go aboutchoosing a profession?And these are but some of the problems hetouches upon. However, for all his diversity

of approach, Prof. Kitaigorodsky has a definitesingularity of purpose, which is to reveal to thereader the role of physics in natural scienceand the role of natural science in science andlife.

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Chapter IWAYS AND GOALS

...declares that the purpose of science is to explain natureand subordinate it to man. Natural science has the explainingtask. The ways it takes and goals it pursues are the subjectof this chapter.

In the course of millions of years of evolutionNature has nurtured in man the urge to createthings, all kinds of things: houses, hatchets,hoes, highways, and what have you. When this instinct, inherited from the remote shaggy forebear fitting a suitable stick into a hole in apiece of stone and hacking a cosy three-roomcave in a rock overlooking a picturesque rivervalley, is dominant, its possessor becomes aninventor, engineer, agronomist. If, in addit ion,such a person is not inclined to restrict himselfto repeating the achievements of his predecessors, if he feels like building new kinds of houses, of creating tools no one ever used before,of reaping harvests undreamed of before, thenhe joins the vanguard of the builders of civilization.A man who contributes appreciably to theworld's advance towards spiritual wealth andcomfortable life must possess many qualities.He must know the successes that have been achieved and the setbacks suffered before him. He

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must possess an excellent memory capable ofabsorbing all the facts directly or indirectlybearing on the matter in hand. He must be stub-born and tenacious in pursuing his goal. Edisontried hundreds of materials before he found asuitable filament for his electric bulb.People of this frame are driven by fervent,unquenchable desire to see the fruits of theirwork. They know no peace until millions andmillions begin to benefit from their efforts.And they must be able not only to work, butalso to prove that they are right.

It is no easy task to prove the need to reorga-nize industry, or replace a material in commonusage, or change over from old transport meansto new ones.The conservatism and caution of society insuch instances is only natural, and distrustof innovations is part of human nature. Thatis why it is not enough to be knowledgeableand capable: one must also learn to stand upfor one's work and be a clever diplomat capableof outmanoeuvring the opponents of innovation.Ultimately the better always (or almost al-ways, to be on the safe side) wins out. This isa law of life. But at what cost of nerve and sta-mina on the part of those whose sole desire isunselfishly to make life easier and better forothers! Unselfishly? But of course! The proof?Try to offer money to a man to give up his taskbefore he has finished it. Nothing doing: recreantsare not easily found. I've known many suchmen, and I never cease to marvel at the ardourwith which they serve their cause. They encoun-ter many disappointments on th e way to their10

goal, but all the greater the joy when successfinally comes. Public recognition is ample re-compense for all one's worries and anxieties,for toil oblivious of the passage of time, for utterdevotion to one's work. To many the word "scien-ce" is associated with just this kind of work.That was what I, too, thought for a long time.In the home of my father, who had devoted hislife to the creation of new materials , knowledgewas evaluated from the point of view of practi-cal utility. One had to study, one had to acquireknowledge to be able to make new machines,create tougher steel, construct faster airplanes.Boys are often asked what they want to be.I too was asked, and I invariably replied withouta moment's hesitation, "I'm going to workin science"."What science?""I don't know yet, but I'll search for waysof building houses of glass or else I'll improveelectrical machines.. ,Later on I learned that many people had otherideas about the meaning of the word "science".

I was fourteen or so when I began to visitregularly the Rumyantsev Library (the old buil-ding of the Lenin Library of today). At firstI read books connected with the school curri-culum.At thegeography class the teacher speaks aboutIndia. Very well. That means I must read some-thing about Hindu fakirs or the habits ofrajahs.At the literature class the Decembrists arementioned. That's also interesting: must getmyself Yakushkin's memoirs.11


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Soon, however, the choice of books began todepend less on school than on opinions voicedin the library's smoking room. I must confessthat I was already smoking at that tender age.The smoking room was the lib rary's club, andI suspect that many visitors never even got asfar as the reading rooms. It was always noisythere, boys shouted and argued. They arguedheatedly, impassionedly, jumping from one subject to another. There wasn't a topic they didn'tdiscuss: Darwin and religion, hypnosis and autosuggestion, Blok's attitude to Belinsky andMeyerhold's stage productions.Today I don't regret having begun smokingearly. My visits to the smoking room are amongmy best recollections, and whereas it wouldbe an exaggeration to say that .I received myeducation there, at the very least the endlessdebates led to my reading of books which wouldotherwise have remained unknown to me.One of the frequenters of the smoking roomwas a young man by the name of Valery, if I remember correctly. He had long hair plastereddown to his head, a gaunt face and dark, deepset eyes. He smoked only the cheapest cigarettes and never went to the snack-bar. He apparently had no money, but he was extremely neat?nd t idy. His boots, though patched, were brightly shined, and he tried to modernize his out-offashion jacket by fastening the skirts with a safety pin (the fashion then was for jackets todrape the hips tightly). I remembered him notfor his striking appearance, however, but forhis impassioned speeches, especially on the subject of man's vocation. It seemed only natural12

to Valery to classify human aspira tions by theirimportance, and it was from him that I firstheard ideas on science that differed essentiallyfrom my home-bred notions."Utilitarianism is an invention of bourgeoissociety," he declared, puffing a cigarette. " I twas Francis Bacon who preached that the questfor knowledge was meaningless if it served nopractical purpose." I can just see a pot-bellied shopkeeper admonishing his son," Valery went on, emphasizinghis speech by jabbing a cigarette clenched betweena thumb and forefinger. "Who cares for poetry,painting or useless knowledge about the numberof stars in the universe? Only several hundredcranks like you. But all people need and wantclothes, they dream of a warm, cosy home. Helpthem achieve this, and you will gain respect,honour and wealth. "Valery dragged at his cigarette."One would think that any intelligent manshould be nauseated by such a frankly philistineconception. But look you... People are afraidto object, more, they would place thi s so-calledphilosophy at the root of every creation of thehuman spirit. It's disgusting to hear Bacondeclare that if poetry has any use at all it ismerely as a recreation after work, or that abstract knowledge is useful only insofar as withtime it may be turned into cheap sausage. Howcan one say such things? How can one reduceall human aspira tions to the desire to fill one'sbelly? Only science and art divorced from anypractical gains are capable of deifying man,of li ft ing him above animal level."

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"You're speak ing nonsense!" others shoutedat him. "A hungry man cares nothing for p ~ r eart he hasn't the slightest concern for the sizeof the atom. We must feed people first and thenworry about the ir soul."Still, rarely did anyone rise in de!ence. ofBacon. Others agreed with Valery - m pnn-ciple. They just considered his concerns andworries untimely."To be sure," they said, "society d?esn 'tprevent you from engaging in art or pure sCience.But don't expect the ardent gratitude of thepresent world, in which millions of people arestill short of food and shoes. When the Golden

Age comes... "Once, when I happened to be alone with Va-lery, I asked him timidly, " W h a ~ are the goalsof science, if not the creatIOn of usefulthings?" ."The purpose of science," he retor ted withouthesitation "is the discovery of new facts and, E l;l"connections between phenomena. xamp es.I nodded.

"Very well. Here are examples from ~ i i f f e r e n tfields. A physicist finds that t h ~ e l e c t n ~ a l conductivity of copper decreases with the mcreaseof temperature. This is a new discovery, a newfact which enriches science. A student of Austr a l i ~ n fauna discovers a new s p e c i ~ s of an.t.This is another example of an indubitable gamof science. After sifting through a vast n U l ~ n b e rof original documents a historian e s t a b 1 J ~ h e sthat the Great French Revolution was rece.lve.dhostilelv among the German burghers - thiS ISanother- example for you."14

"And this is the purpose of science?" I askedwith wonder."No. The establishment of new, hitherto unknown facts is merely the basis of science. Themore capable, the more far-seeing, I should say,researchers have the job of building the upperfloors o f the edifice of science. They use the factsto discover generalities and establish the connections between phenomena, that is, they discover the laws. Say, after accumulating a greatbody of data on the electrical conductivity ofvarious materials a scientist observes that theycan be classified into two groups: those whoseconductivity increases with the temperature,and those whose conductivity decreases. Nextit is found that these two classes differ inelectron structure of their atoms. These speciallaws, in turn, gradually accumulate and becomea basis. for wider conceptions concerning theconnectiOn between the electrical properties andstructure of matter.""Well, but what about biology or history?""The same thing. Without the painstakingwork. of an army of researchers it's impossibleto discover the general laws of evolution of theanimal world, the laws governing the development of human society ."

"I see. But tell me, Valery, if a man is lookingfor ways of improving the quality of s teel , isn'the engaged in science?""I would find some other word for this kindof work," he sa id thoughtfully. "Of course, often many new and interesting things are discoveredhere too, but this is not a purpose initsel f."! )


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t ou've less respect for"Do you mean tha y" "th 'n me pro-this kind of w ? r k ? d " f ~ ; C e : y ~ f l ~ g y ~ ~ t ~ e r . But ittested, I rose 10 ewasn't necessary. h "d almly "It's most" e sal c ."Goodness, no, k To prove its use-fine and praisew?rthy : ~ I n ' into an open door.fulness would be l ike bre f wgpeople real ize thatThe thing is thatt r r \ n ~ w l e d g e is as equallythe selfless ques ork" "deserving an underta IOf: d that people couldI t was then that I. rea the word "science".attach d i f f e r ~ n ~ meant 101f us to agree on whatHence, it IS Impor an 0we mean by the word. a ers and magazines,

I have perused pewsPd Psought the views oflistened to the .radlo a ~ o m science in whateverpeople utterly d l v o ~ c e d f d "science" has expansense. I find that t e wor t is said of a personded tremendously. t Y V p e ~ liS engaged in sciencethat he is a sClen IS 0 than that he possesi t usually ~ e a n s n ~ t ~ ~ ~ w l e d g e which he usesses a certalO b?dy . it that attaches a n.ar-in his work .. It ILa ~ ~ n ~ o r ~ : to them engaglOgrower meaning k' the new and u n k n o w ~ .in science means ~ n . g is too broad. To a v 0 1 ~Yet even such .a d e f 1 f e ~ t I ~ ~ divide s c i e n t i f i ~ actlmisunderstand lOgS, '. the applied SCiences,. . t three domalOs.vlty 10 0 . " t ral sciences.the humanities, here of applied sciencesAny research 1.n t e The development ofpursues a p r a c h c ~ l etecimi ue or improvel1!enta new manufactunng t q of new matenals,ld the crea 10n . tof an 0 one, nd more convenlenthe introduction f a s t e ~ ag soil fertility, thetransport means, IOcreaslO "16

creation of new drugs: these are all tasks beingdaily handled by engineering physics, engineering mechanics, chemical technology, agronomy,medicine, etc.The trends of development of the applied sciences are fairly obvious. They are guided by thepractical needs of mankind, the needs of the nat ion. Power reserves are running out: men look

for new energy sources, and the nuclear industryappears. Wool is in short supply and is t ~ o " expecsive: scientists hunt for cheap. and ~ f f l c l e n tsubstitutes, and the manmade fibres mdustryappears.And so it goes.Man lives in a world of material things. Howcan he best subordinate them and make themwork for him? The answers to this are suppliedby the applied sciences.But why do things behave like this and notin some other way? How are events in the worldof things interlinked? How is the world aboutus arranged? These questions are answered by

the natural sciences. Their ultimate purposeis an understanding of nature.The division into natural and applied sciencesis not a division by branches of knowledge.Physicists who stUdy the laws of scatteringof elementary particles; chemists Who stUdy thelaws governing the breaking of chemical bonds;biologists using an electron microscope to stUdythe structure of a bacteriophage's flagellum_these are all workers in the same detachment.A physicist designing a nuclear reactor; a chemist improving the properties of polythene;a selectionist prodUcing a new animal breed-

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choice of narrow speciality, however, was purechance. It so happened that two years beforefinishing the university course I began to workin a laboratory, where I was engaged in the branchof physics known as "X-ray analysis of crystals".It was a t ime when pure research was bel it tledand, furthermore, research workers were paidmuch less than engineers. My friends, most ofwhom had gone in for engineering, tended to

look down upon me. Anyone of them couldclearly formulate the objective of his work.One was busy improving electric locomotives,one was perfecting gyrocompasses, one was designing aircraft.They spoke enthusiastically of their work,people quickly grasped the ir ideas and listenedto them readily. Naturally, I also wanted tospeak of my achievements, and one day I toldmy friends of my first completed experimentalinvestigation." You see, I've managed to establish the distance between the atoms in a molecule of aminoacetic acid.""What for?" someone asked at once."What do you mean? Those distances wereunknown til l now." ."So what? Who needs the information?"I was unable to answer them, my friendsscoffed at me and I lapsed into a piqued silence.The question "What for?" so simple in theapplied sciences, turns out to be far from simplein natural science, and an answer to it requiresa degree of elucidation.Having determined the distances between theatoms of a molecule of aminoacetic acid I solved

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a ~ r o b . 1 e m of my n a ~ r o w scientific speciality,whIch I have saId, X-ray analysis of crystals. !hls IS a very small sector on the front-lineof sCIence. And yet several tens of thousandsof .workers all ?ver the world are engaged in studymg c r y s t ~ l h n e s t r u ~ t u r e s with the help ofX-rays. TheIr purpose IS to perfect experimentaland m a t h e m a ~ l c a l methods so that investigationscould be carned out faster and more preciselyand to .study the structure of as many s u b s t a n c e ~as p o ~ s l b l e for all cases when it cannot be predicted In adva!lce. X-ray analysis of crystals isconcerned WIth the so lu tion of these tasks. In.the same. ~ a y , any other scientif ic special ityIS an. actIVIty that ~ e v e l o p s according to thegoals It pursues.

T ~ e r e is not a member of the scientific commu mty of physicists and chemists studying thestructure of c r ~ s t a l s who would question theneed of perfectmg mathematical and experimental m e ~ h o d s of X-ray analysis or the needto d ~ t e r m . m e unknown crystal line structures.~ o r IS thIS questioned by researchers workingm other spheres of science..What is it for? The correct answer is the onegIven by m ~ library companion: to elucidatefacts .stl1l hIdden from science. Every newlyestabhshed fact (however insignificant it mightand every new point of view (however negligIble the phenomenon to which it refers) is bound,sooner or later, to be of use. I n a year or in several decades they are bound to be of use to someother worker. The achievements of science maybe handed on and on through dozens of scient ificpapers by dozens of authors, and they will u lt i-

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mately reach the stage when they begin to payoff and become a component of a major discoveryor accomplishment.I could mention that without knowledge ofthe structure of graphite it would have been impossible to design a nuclear reactor. And withoutimproving the mathematical apparatus of X-rayanalysis i t would have been impossible to establish the structure of the gene and, hence, approach

an understanding of the nature of heredi ty.Thus, the work of people dealing in X-r.ayanalysis of crystal line structures is an essentialelement in the advance of science as awhole.The example is purely . arbitrary. One couldtrace a similar participation of any other sectionof natural science in major scientific and technological breakthroughs: infrared spectroscopy orcalorimetry, the theories of luminescence oradsorption; the mathematical theory of the Fourier transformations or the theory of relativity.And these sections of science, like science asa whole, solve problems of their own. But everyscientif ic inves tigation introducing somethingnew, albeit at first apparently insignificant,may, through a great number of i n t e r m e ~ i a r i e s ,eventually become part of a great and Important discovery.Take any scientific paper: at the end youwill find a bibliographic list. The author acknowledges the work of other scientists from whichhe gleaned some ideas or where he discoverednew facts. Even a small paper has on averagesome 20 bibliographic references. As a rule noneof the authors of these 20 works had the slight-22

est idea who might find their investigationsuseful. Twenty is the number of works the researcher has acknowledged. But how many unacknowledged scattered ideas and facts takenfrom other works have also gone into the groundwork of his investigation!. Every g.ood research work (and a good workIS. one wh.lch has resolved some of moot points)

d l s s ~ l v e s In the works that follow it. Grains ofthe Ideas of one author are present in hundredsand t h ~ ) l l s a n d s of works of researchers who haveread hIS paper. Just as letters form words andwords form sentences, so individual researchesform new scientific ideas, topple or erect newh y ~ o t h e s e s or pave the way for scientific discovefles.

~ o w unalike are works of science and art in~ h l ~ respect! A work of creative art is completeIn Itself and can be evaluated according to allthe com:nor: cri teria applicable to ar t as a whole.I f . a r ~ IS hkened to an imposing bUilding, anart.lst. s work can be compared with a similar

b ~ t l d l n g , though very small, but with the sameWindows and doors.... ~ o scientific i ~ v e s t i g a t i o n is ever completeIn Itself. I t acqUIres meaning only thanks towork of p r ~ d e c e s s o r s and followers. If scienceIS. compared WIth a great bUilding, then an indiVIdual research is a brick in its walls..As ages pass . art accumulates its values,dIscardIng the medIocre, preserving the greatN?t as a m ~ s e u I ! 1 r e ~ i c . The work of a great artiststirs the ImaglllatlOn of listeners or viewershundreds and thousands of years after it wascreated.

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The road of science is straight. The ideas ofevery researcher, th e facts he has acquired area step on that road. Without that metre of asphalt there is no road, bu t once past it th e roadproceeds onward. Look bac.k: th e n:arked plac.egrows smaller an d smaller 111 th e distance untIli t finally disappears from sight altogether.The lifetime of a work of a "scientist-author"is discouragingly short, perhaps no more thanthirty to fifty years. This is the time it takesto dissolve thoroughly in th e works of otherresearchers: the best it contains is absorbed,the superfluous is cast aside, th e work itselfbecomes a well-squeezed lemon.This is th e fate not only of rank-and-fileresearchers. This is th e fate of books an d worksby the greates t p h y s i c i s t ~ : N ~ w t o n , a.nd M a x w ~ l l ,and the quite recent E111ste111. Their works 111-terest only th e historians of science. Our knowledge of th e work of geniuses reaches us throughrecapitulations by our contemporaries. Time polishes th e greatest discoveries, gives them newform, sometimes changing them tremendously.Present-day mechanics - the brainchild of Newton - only remotely resembles th e mechanicswritten by Sir Isaac.Perhaps this digression wil l help you to understand why it is so hard to assess th e value of anisolated scientific investigation.I must confess that when a natural scientistrecounts his achievements to th e lay public heis compelled - I should not say to exaggerate,bu t to generalize an d in effect describe not thesignificance of his own contribution to science,an all bu t hopeless task in lay language, but the24

s ignif icance of th e whole field in which heworks.Obviously, there are except ions when, againstth e background of th e daily plodding humdrumof res.earch work, w ~ ca n discern fairly clearlyth e birth of a new Idea, th e discovery of a newphenomenon, th e creation of a new researchmethodology. Thesignificance of such a new breakthrough ma y be apparent at once. This was thecase, for example, with th e work of th e Americanscientists Lee an d Yang, who discovered a newproperty of elementary particles, or th e workof th e German physicist Mossbauer, who discov

e r ~ d a new effect in the interaction of gamma-raysWith matter. These scientists were almost immediately awarded th e highest distinction forscholarly research, th e Nobel Prize.But this is rather the except ion. Much morenumerous are th e examples of belated recognition.In 1934, a post-graduate student by the name?f Cherenkov discovered a new phenomenon111 t h e s ca tt er in g of electrons in liquids an d solids. At th e time no on e could foresee that manyyears later it would lead to th e creation of excellent nuclear radiation counters. The work wonrecognition, an d with it the Nobel Prize, a quarterof a century after it was carried out .Not so long ago our outstanding theoreticalphysicist Landau was awarded th e Nobel Prizefor works carried ou t before th e last war.In 1945, Zavoisky in Kazan discovered resonance absorption of radio waves bv electrons.At th e time it was impossible to "foresee anyextensive development of his work, nor th e emergence of a new sphere of physics: t he s tu dy of

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matter by magnetic resonance. This work, too,gained recognition long after it was carried out.That is why it is not so easy to evaluate thework of a researcher in the sphere of naturalscience.It is much simpler to assess the work of an engineer shop superintendent. The qu.antityquality of output is measurable. In . t a n g l ~ l efigures, and a girl from the qualIty inspectIOndepartment can readily say what shop worksbetter.The value of a scientif ic worker in the domainof applied science is immediately apparent.He produces a new material - and its advantagesover the existing ones can be judged. He elaborates a new manufacturing technique - andfigures will show how much better it is than theold one. In such cases a bookkeeper's assessmentis adequate proof.And in the natural science domain?I am frequently asked to review scientificpapers, dissertations, and reports on researchworks. How do I form an opinion of them?The main thing is to determine the degreeof novelty. A work that says nothing new isnot worth the paper on which it is written. Thenovelty need not be striking. Say, a researcheremployed conventional apparatus and well-kn.ownmethods, but in connect ion with new objectswhich had not been studied before. Shouldthe work have been done? Doubtlessly. But itdoes not deserve much praise, even if the experimenter worked a lot to obtain the results.More deserving is an author of a new methodof measurement or a new method of calculation

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(if, obviously, the methods are faster or more.accurate than the old ones). A review of such.a work may even be concluded with severalflattering sentences praising the author for hisskill and ingenuity.The compliments become superlative when.a new phenomenon has been discovered, or a new-correlation or rule enabling the outcome of anexperiment to be reliably predicted is evolvedtheoretically.So far I have been dealing with sufficiently-objective criteria. When one undertakes to assess the significance of a research work one usually has to rely on intuition to decide how importantthe discovered facts and rules may prove 10 be,how they may promote the advance of scienceas a whole - things which usually become ap:parent within years, if not decades.The conclusion to which I am leading the rea.der is simple enough: the battle front of naturalscience is wide and continuous, and thousands-of researchers contribute to its advance. Eachone facilitates this advance by establishingnew facts in his or her work.Very well . But what is the purpose of natural science as a whole? To cognize the world and.discover new things. What for?Fridtjof Nansen's answer to such a question was:"The history of mankind is an endless strivingfrom darkness to l ight . Tha t is why it is uselessto discuss the goals of knowledge: man wantsto know; when this urge passes he will stopbeing man."Man's thirst for knowledge needs no explanation: it is a thirst for the joys of life.

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Scient if ic creat ivity is one of the most selflessof human activities, it is among the most w o ~ d e r -ful human emotions. Many vivid cOnfes?lOnsof these joys could be cited. Here IS anoften quoted passage from the works of Pt?lemy:"I know that I am mortal and my eXIstenceis Grief. But when I study the stellar multitudes,my feet no longer rest on the Earth, I standnext to Zeus, partake of the food of the gods and,feel myself a god."In truth understanding of nature, knowledgeof her s e c r ~ t s , ability to pred!ct a phenomenonin all its details fill a man wIth a. sense of t r ~ -mendous pride, with tremendous JOY, help hISself-assertion. Nothing is more capable of overthrowing god than learning and knowledge.Man who knows nature feels himself its creat?r ,feels himself omnipotent and does not reqUIrespiritual support. .Thus, one does not have to explaIn .why manstudies nature. But there is another Importantquestion that must be answered. Has .a n a ~ u r a lscientist the moral right to pursue hIS s C l e n ~ ein the modern world, in which the.re are stIllso many millions of hungry, suffenng people?-Is it not his duty to devote his knowledge andabilities fo serving the practical needs of the present day?No a worker of "pure" science n e e ~ notsuffe; from pangs of conscience. The adva!1ceof natural science leads to one technologIcalrevolution after another, thereby: t remendouslyaccelerating man's approach to ~ n t v ~ r s a . l affluence. For that reason thework of s ~ l e n h ~ t s IS the c.oncern of the whole of the society In whIch they Itve_

Chapter 2A DISCOURSE ON THE USE OF SCIENCE

.. . in which the author, support ing his arguments withfacts from his biography, seeks to convince the readerthat the natural sciences, with the ir goal of knowledgeof the world, ar e very useful.

In 1936-38, when I was just launching myscientific career, one of the leading institutesof physics was the Leningrad Physico-Technical1nstitute. I t was headed by Abram Ioffe, a fine:scientist and organizer, a man whose role inthe establishment of Soviet physics can hardlybe overestimated. Perhaps half of the country'sl iving leading physicis ts are in one way or another pupils of Ioffe or come from his institute.At the time in question the institutewassubordi-nated not to the Academy of Sciences but to-the People's Commissariat of the EngineeringIndustry. The Commissariat was in Moscow and,:accordingly, it was in Moscow that plans wereagreed, appropriations and personnel were obt ained and all kinds of administrative problemswere settled. It was necessary to be in constantcontact with the Commissariat, and Ioffe feltthat he had to have someone to speak for hisinstitute's interests, to act so to say as his envoyin Moscow.By a happy s troke of luck his choice fell on me,

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that Faraday was just lucky when he ha enedto glance at the r ight moment at the P ~ e e d l e? ~ s i h e g a l v a n o ~ e t e r ~ o n n e e t e d with a wire coilJ '1 as he ,,:as lOsertlOg a bar magnet into theCOl. Slne might say that Hahn and Strassman~ e ; : J ~ s t lucky when they discovered, in 1939,. s ow neutrons broke uranium nuclei in

~ ~ ~ ; i b W . ~ truef portent o.f this discovery - theI y 0 an atomic explosion - becameapparent several months later.In real fact - and the history of .. sCIence cana ways ~ r o v e t.hls beyond a shadow of doubt these dlscovenes were prepared by the workof n : ~ f Y thousands of researchers. They became

f ~ s s l e b ~ c a u s e they were ripe inevitableey were lO the air. The keen of the mosttalented scholar discerned them before othHe\e we could end our discourse on theof. sCience. The need to develop the front ofs C l e n ~ e , pl;lshed forward by man's curiositby hiS d ~ l r e to understand nature, to r e m o t ~all that IS vague or incomprehensible from the

~ o r l d , make all eventualities predictable inth eyes of e.ven n : o ~ t hardened utilitarian -:. IS. nee.d. finds J ~ s t J f I c a t i o n in the fortunate

l O r f ~ h a b l h t y of major scientific discoveries. With-e advance of the whole front of sciencwI.thout the ~ f f o r t s of the whole army of u n k n o w ~btoJlers. of s c ~ e n c e , these discoveries would haveeen Impossible.. This alone is sufficient to understand wh~ ~ u r . country,' the development of t h e o r e t i c ~ ib?rl s phySICS, mathematics , chemistry and10 ogy IS regarded as a matter of state concernand why appropriations for the development

nated not only in atomic power plants, but inthe atom bomb as well. ..The history of natural science abounds inexamples of scien tif ic discoveries that havehad a revolutionary impact on the developmentof civilization. Suffice it to recall Faraday'sdiscoverv of the law of electromagnetic induction, which became the foundat ion of all electrical engineering and, hence, of the whole of contemporary civilization. In this case, too, theimport of the discovery was utterly unappreciated at the time it was made. I have read ananecdote somewhere according to which, whenFaraday was asked of possible applications ofhis law, he replied that i t could probably be used

to make quaint toys.There are countless examples of a so to saylower order: Roentgen's discovery of penetrating rays, the discovery of the ph?toelectriceffect, the discovery of rubber synthesIs...It is important to realize that all these . andother sc ien tif ic discoveries were not fortuitousrevelations; they were the outcome of the log.-ical and natural evolution of science.It is utterly childish to imagine that Roentgenhad' 'looked" for his invisible ravs, or Faradayfor natural laws which could be 'used for building electricity generators, or Hahn and Strassman for atomic energy. At the same time, though,it is wrong to think that Roentgen was "lucky"because a mineral that glows under the actionof what later became known as Roentgen orX-ray happened to be lying near the gas-discharge tube covered with a black paper he w . ~ sexperimenting with. One could perhaps claim

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of natural science are on a par with other stateexpenditures.Most readers, I hope, will be satisfied withthe above reasoning. Nevertheless, I shouldl ike to pursue the subject with an eye on the minority, among which there may be more or lesseducated, practically-minded skeptics."You claim," such a skeptic may say, "thatrevolutions in technology are l inked with scient if ic discoveries. True enough. You have offeredsome very satisfactory examples. But allow meto cite some examples of an opposite nature.Quite a few branches of technology achieveda high degree of perfection long before naturalscience ever appeared. Our distant forebears,who had not the slightest idea of the laws of physics or chemistry, nevertheless could bui ld imposing castles, make exquisite crystal glass andsmelt metals. The age of steam began withoutthe participation of science. Watt and Polzu-.nov knew nothing of the laws of thermodynamics,which treat of the transformation of heat intowork. Or take the manufacture of steel or glass.What wealth of useful materials have been created by experimental search and are not the upshotof sc ientif ic analyses or the study of the lawsof nature. Thus, "the skeptic concludes," thepractitioners have managed to cope with theirproblems without the help of theoretical science."

It is certainly true that many spheres of technology were born and perfected without the helpof science. However, when natural science began tomakesubstantial gains and its ideas impregnated practically every applied science withoutexception, the traditional techniques from which,

it had seemed, everything useful had been squeezed, received a new lease of life and began todevelop at a faster rate. Though the history ofsteel manufacture dates back many centuries,it was only in the late nineteen-fifties that a newprocess was suggested that yields steel threeor more times tougher than before. One neednot go into the importance of this innovat ion.Engineers strive to reduce the weight of structural components by a few per cent; the new steelmakes possible a reduction of the weight of machine parts by ten, twenty and more per cent.Thirty years ago theoreticians put forwardideas concerning the reasons why metals arenot as hard as might be expected. The thing isthat the crystals of metals possess observablespecific imperfections known as dislocations,which tend to propagate in the crystal on theapplication of a slight force. When the dislocations are numerous a crystal deforms whensubjected to small forces.In the early fifties detailed diagrams of thepropagation of dislocations were worked outand methods of recording and observing thepropagation of dislocations on individual crystals were proposed.Metals experts followed these works closely,hoping to find in them an answer to the questionof how to make steel harder. The theory of dislocations gave an unequivocal answer: the propagation of dislocations had to be halted.The metallurgists and metal physicists beganto wonder how this could be done. Here is oneexample of thei r reasoning on the basis of dislocation concepts. It is known that small amounts

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of carbon turn soft iron into hard steel. The partplayed by the carbon became clear.: its littleatoms keep dislocations from propagating. Hence,it is not a question of the chemical nature ofthe additive, and carbon can be successfullyreplaced by other elements. .The idea and the experiments, moved fromthe p h y s i c ~ l laboratories to the m e t a ~ l u r g i c a linstitutes, and from there to the factOries. Thecomplete cycle took about a decade . . .One could cite many such examples, 10 whichthe "introduction" time of new ideas rangesfrom a year to several decades. This is not ourtask, however. The important thing is to . showthat in a country where the natural sCiencesare highly developed the applied sciences-:engineering, medicine, agronomy, etc . - are !nadvantageous conditions. Such a country willsooner come to the practical utilization of a scientific discovery than otherwise. Moreover, thegeneral culture of scientific. t h i n k i n ~ has a profound influence on all practical affairs.The moral of this chapter is: Although thetural sciences advance along roads of their ownand solve no practical problems, their e f f e ~ ton the applied sciences can hardly be overesti-mated.

Chapte r 3

WE ARE NOT ON AN UNINHABITED ISLAND

.. .which shows how the dialectical unity of freedom andnecessity determines the t rends of research in the naturalsciences.00

Almost every week a man working in sciencemust stop to ponder over the ever recurringquestion: What next?A laboratory assistant wonders whether perhapshe should use a more sensitive film. A researcher decides to make a pause in his experimentsand check his figures against theoretical data.The head of a group investigating a commonfield decides that the t ime has come to introducea new observation methodology, he devises newmeasurement schemes and sends his blueprintsto the workshop. The laboratory chief considersthat the time has come to shift the emphasisfrom optical to radiospectroscopic methods ofinvestigation, that new experimental curves suggest the need to revise old theories, that the substances studied must be supplemented with newitems. And the director of the institute is concerned(at least when he is sitting in his administrativeoffice) with the allocation of money and assignments to the laboratories.I t follows from the above scheme that a unified, coordinated line of research is pursued


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on the laboratory level. Larger units are of anadminist rat ive character, smaller ones areindependent. (Obviously, it is not a questIonof name, and as often as not it is a tiny teamof researchers or even an individual who func-tions as a laboratory.)A good laboratory (we shall call a l a ? o r a ~ o r yany independent research group) Its hnesof work, its circle of interests and Its style ofresearch. One need not name the authors ofa paper produced by a good labo:atory: the spec ialist will immediately recogmze the source.A research unit may be in the making. It maylack a distinctiveness of its own. Such a stateis completely legit imate for five to s e v ~ n . y e ~ r s .But if a laboratory continues to l a ~ k . d l s t l O ~ t l O ~a decade after its organization, this IS an IOdlcation that it is mediocre and doesn't deserveto be rated as a unit on the scientific front.Such a laboratory may serve auxiliary purposes, i f some other unit assumes patronage, uSlOgit for its own researches.The lines along which a scientific c.ollectivepursues its studies and the style of Its workare determined by its leader or by a ,small groupof senior workers. The laboratory s name ISnot very revealing: it defines o.nly .the generalfield in which it works. Laboratorieswith the samename can and must differ in style of work andthe lines they pursue as much as different theatre

companies.In what ways may styles differ? First of allin att itude towards laboratory experiments.. S ~ m elaboratories devote much effort to bUlldlOgcomplex apparatus and devising precision me-38

thods of measurement. In other laboratoriesthe researchers prefer to buy equipment so asto devote all their efforts to the processing andinterpretation of measurements. Some laboratories embrace wide fields of research, othersconcentrate on the detai ls of a specific problemStyle and line of pursuit evolve graduallyas a sum of many f a c t o r ~ : the leader's tempera~ e . n t and mentality, the Impact of general scien

t ~ f l c d e v e l ~ p m e n t and advances in adjacent!Ields, the IOfluence of industrial and nationalIOterests.A scientific leader's role is decisive in drawingup the research plans. In natural science thereis no s u ~ h thing. as centralized planning. Statecontrol IS restricted to the distri bution offunds amongst different fields of science in ac-cordance with the current notion of their relative importance:. A laboratory chief cannot draw up his plans10 the same way as an industrial executive:more often than not he just can't plan the results he will obtain.

In institutes of the Academy of Sciences,!or example, each year a laboratory submitsItS plans for the following year to the management. And each time the workers are at a losswhen th.ey have to fill in the standard planforms wIth their listings of theme, breakdownof work by stages and anticipated results.I t IS not hard to state what we intend to dowhat measurements we ir:tend to carry out:what apparatus we would hke to have installed':Vhat experiments we hope to stage. But'will It all be done?

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Naturally, research work abounds in rout ine.One can readily estimate the time needed to takean X-ray picture or obtain a spectrum, one cansay how much t ime it will take to carry out a calculation. It is harder, though not altogetherimpossible, to indicate how many weeks it maytake to build an apparatus according to knownblueprints. But a research work that consistssolely of such operations is no good, it's nota work of research.Scientific research has meaning only if itis under taken to unravel something unknownor vague. An experimental work is the betterthe less apparent its eventual outcome. Thatwhich seems simple and easy may turn out inthe course of the invest igat ion to be startlinglycomplex; on the contrary, a tangled problemmay prove to have a simple solution.Surprises? Yes. But then, they are probablythe main thing in science. Every researcher dreamsof stumbling on a surprise. A surprise is something new, someth ing no one had ever encountered before. Surprising, interesting, importantare sy nonyms in science.Last spring I was giving final instructions toYusif, a post-graduate student of mine, beforegoing on holiday."Your work is coming to an end, Yusif. Allthat is left is to demonstrate that the speed ofmolecular processes in a solid decreases in repetitive experiments. [It seemed obvious to methat the crystals with which Yusif was workingmust gradually deteriorate.] Measure the rateat which the speed of the process decreases, andwith that I shall consider your work completed."4)

I left. When I returned a month later I wentat once to Yusi f."Well, show me your graphs.""Here they are.""Wait a minute, you must be mistaken.""No, I'm not.""Where are the curves of decreasing speed?see bell-shaped curves.""That's just what they are."

. Can. you imagine! It appeared that the speedfIrst Increased and only then decreased. Thatwas an unexpected result. The inference wasthat the crystal at first "got used" to the molecular process and only then began to deteriorateYusif discovered a new phenomenon, whichadded Immeasurably to the value of his workAnd naturally, the plan of research had todrastically revised.This is.one example of how hard it is to planresearch In natural science. I should even sayt ~ a t t . h ~ more one is compelled to depart fromhIS onglnal plans the more interesting his work.Whene,,:,er I go through the research planforms whIch college teachers are obliged to fillcan't help smiling. The column "Subject"IS followed by "Number of printed pages"I can readily understand the psychology ofman ~ h o compiled these forms. A teacher'splan stIpulates the number of hours he will devote lectures, seminars, examinations, consultat.lOns. It is hard to check the fulfilmentof thIS plan agaInst class and course registers.But what about research work? Plan the numberof hours? How does one go about verifyingthem?

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a researcher standing at a scientific crossroadsto tackle problems confronting applied science.Examples 'abound. The tremendous practicatimportance of semiconductors is common knowledge. Hence the rap id development of the relevant chapters of solid-state physics.The physics of elementary particles has expanded so greatly because the original researches in the field resulted in the discovery ofatomic energy.Investigation of the structure of high polymers would never have progressed so rapidlyif not for industrial interest in synthetic materials.Or an example from my own laboratory. Although it specializes in the structure of organiccompounds, we were always coolon high-molecular organic substances: it is hard to producethem in a highly ordered state and thereforeharder to study their structural characteristics.However, in the nineteen-forties the words"high polymers" began to be repeated moreand more frequently. Chemists called to gaininformation on the structure of high polymercompounds. We answered some questions andwere stumped by others, which made us thinkabout the laws governing the structure of thesecompounds.Gradually the natural course of events drewus into the domain of new problems posed bypractical applications. It is natural for man towant to feel himself useful to as many of hisfellow-men as possible, to feel himself a directpar ticipant in the implementation of the tasksfacing the state. Alongside such psychological44

pressures there also develops a purely pecuniaryi n t ~ r e s t : the possibility of obtaining expen,siveequIpment and addit ional floor space "for the.study of polymers" , and thus to expand the scopeof work.Examples of the accelerating effects of practical considerations on research in natural scienceare very numerous. Sti ll , in some cases the researcher resists this pressure. For example, whena change in the orientation of one's work isto the detriment of one's scientific qualifications.

It is considered self-evident that a researchermust choose his scientific domain once. Hereis a small digression to illustrate my idea. It waslike this. The war interrupted my scien ti fics tudies . The institute where I had worked beforethe war ceased to ex ist , and when the time camefor me to return to my profession I had to seeka new place of work.I am restless by natu re and I always regretted being tied to one place: part icipation inan expedition or a mine inspection tour doesn'tfall within the terms of reference of a physicistconcerned with the structure of matter. So,I deCided, since I had to begin all over againanyhow, I migh t as well go in for marine physics.The study of sea currents and surf phenomenapresented an excellent opportunity for simultaneously quenching my thirst for scientific creativity and satisfying my urge to be on the move.Accord ing ly, I cal led at a laboratory of marinephysics. They accepted my papers and askedme to come for an interview with the head ofth e laboratory on the following day.He was most kindly and helpful.45


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"But, my friend, this is e ~ c e l l e n t , y?U ar esuch an experienced s t r ~ e t u r a l i s t .l there sucha jargon word 1, a candidate of sCience. I m d.e-lighted an d I'll c er ta in ly t ak e you. You willstudy th e structure of ice ... "This was so unexpected that I ~ i d n ' t e:renbother to explain my motives for seeking th e Job.I suddenly realized that it simply couldn't occurto a person that I could throw te n y ~ a r s of knowledge and experience overboard like so ~ ~ c hballast. I ha d to reconcile myself with a specialitynot invo lv ing travel . ..It is rare indeed that a sCientist f o r s a ~ e shis profession. Not ~ n l y . ~ e c a u s e it seems a Pityto discard all th e sCientific knowledge you haveacquired. The scientific domain, th e line of research you have chosen very quickly becomesyour labour of love, and par ting with i t involvesa painful break-up. .Not always is devotion to o n e ' ~ . professIOnrewarded. Some ride th e crest of rising wav.es tothers plod on u n o b t r u ~ i v e l y are deniedopportuni ties for expand ing thei r work.

There are cases, of course, when th e road leadsinto a blind alley. This is especially sad. However, for th e most part e v ~ n u!10btrusive ~ e s e a r c hmakes its necessary co ntn bu tlo n to the Impetusof scientif ic advance. Sometimes th e course ofevents may lead to a reappraisal of :ralues andthe hitherto unnoticed suddenly find them-selves in th e front ranks. This, to take e x a m ~ -Ie, was th e case of th e nuclear phySICists. T ~ I s .is now happening before our very eyes withresearchers working in th e field of molecularbiology.46

It is only natural that practical considerationshave a . dec!s!ve effect on researchers standingat a SCientifiC c r o s s r o ~ d s (I am repeating mys e l f ~ byt th e truth gains from repetition), justas It IS natural for researchers to pursue theirroad ?oggedly fOF th e sole.reason that departingfrom It would mean betraYing the cause to whichthey have devoted their lives.I have spoken of th e impossibility for a researcher to change his allegiance within the realmof natural science. It is equally rare for a naturalscientist to cross over completely to th e campof applied science.

No one c h ~ l l e n g e s ~ n artist's or a poet's rightto follow hiS vocation. A natural scientist'svocation is just as powerful, and it also runsin his blood.There is a category of people possessed withth e urge to attack the unknown and derivingtremendous satisfaction from th e possibility offoreseeing future events.I would very much like to make the readerfeel how exciting and interesting this is. Youhave conceived a theory on th e basis of whichyou have, for example, calcu lated how th e heatcapaci ty of spar depends on temperature. Youhave carried out a great deal of work and plotted a theoretical curve, a beautiful smooth lineclimbing.up from low temperature , first slowly,then r a p l ~ l y ? then sl.ower again as it approaches th e limit: The time is now ripe to verifyth e theory. It IS not so easy to build th e required

? p p a r ~ t u s . Week after week passes, and yourImpatIence stead ily mounts. Is your theory correct or not? Have you learned to forecast the47


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event? At last the apparatus is ready and youcommence your measurements. The .first point ,the second, the third... They fall nght on thecurve! What joy, what triumph! You leave theboratory late at night, a fo?lish, happy smIlelighting up your face, you are iM a state ?f euphoria resembling that of a young lover gOlllg homeafter a date with his beloved.For many people the study of nature a.imedat filling in the blank spots on the map of SCiencedevelops into a passion, into the purpose andmeaning of their life. Need one say that suchpeople inevitably find themselves I I I the frontranks of the army of science.Every researcher naturally wishes to givegreater scope to his work and, naturally, he neverhas enough money, enough room, enough assistants. Give him a free reign and he will purchase all the best equipment there is in the wor1?and, of course, reinforce his two devoted techmcians with at least two small workshops, a mechanical shop with a staff of twenty or so, andan electrical shop with a mere. handful .of te.nto begin with. The researcher I I I love With hisprofession notes with displeasure, if not a n g ~ r ,that other investigations incompar.ably less Sig-nificant than his own work have received greaterappropriations. Obviously, this is because peopledo not realize the true import of his work. Butnever mind give him a little more time, he willproduce n e ~ results and then. o ~ e and all willat last see the importance of his hne of resear.ch.A man devoted to his science, capable of stnct,logical reasoning when it concerns t h ~ a n ~ l y s ~ sof scienti fic facts, completely loses his obJect!-48

vity when he has to promote the cause to whichhe is devoted heart and soul, to which he hasdevoted his 1ife, nay, which is his li fe! I mustsay that I admire this loss of sense of reality,this egotism of the highest order, this covetouspassion.The desire to expand his work as greatly aspossible, to obtain more money and better apparatus, forces the researcher to balance hiswork so as to satis fy practical demands withoutdetriment to his main sc ientif ic work. He de-votes a portion of his laboratory's time andenergy to solving problems of industry or applied institutes. For this the laboratory getsfunds and equipment enabling it to carry outits basic scientific tasks more efficiently.The supplementary financing of science througha system of cont racts with indust ry is extremelyuseful. As a result industrial enterprises carrying out important practical tasks resort tothe help of and encourage the work of the verytheoretical laboratories whose scientific affairsare most successful, the ones which work best.In short , a system of automatic feedback evolvesin which the good laboratories obtain additional sums, and this is only just.


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the end next time. I t is worse when the subjecthas been exhausted and there are still five orten minutes to go. But Kapitsais a skilled helmsman and, manoeuvring with questions and recollections, he steers the ship into port exactly onthe hour. Not a minute late, not a minute early.. I haven't learned the trick yet, and our meetIngs last only approximately two hours. Morethan two is useless as people tire and their attention wanders.A laboratory or insti tute colloquium is theconnecting tissue that joins the separate cellsinto a scientific organism. A researcher worksalone or with a few subordinates; in any casehe does his brainwork alone. This is inevitable.But contact is also essential. Carried away byone's own line of action and reasoning, onemay well lose sight of important things, followthe wrong track and discover something alreadyknown. It is impossible to do successful workwithout an idea of the place and importance ofyour endeavQur in science. Of course, one can(and should) read a lot. But the devoted scientist finds it harder to get away from his workto read than to discuss a point. Besides, readingcan't subst itute for a living exchange of views.Scientific literature usually doesn't mentionfailures. A ~ a p e r is wri tten when somethinghas been achIeved. That you are embarking onan erroneous road you can find out only in a conversation.At laboratory colloquiums we hear reportson the work of both members of our staff andguest speakers invited from other laboratoriesand institutes. The speaker expects criticism

Chapter 4WE HAVE A COLLOQUIUM TODAY

...which describes how a researcher keeps abreast of theachievements of science all over the world. The authorseeks to demonstrate that trips to di st ant countries onscientific business do more than simply satisfy one'scuriosity.

We have a colloquium today. It is now:2:27 p.m.Time to go. Being late is not permitted, andRimma, the secretary of the colloquium, is already rattling the piggy-bank into which thelate participants obediently drop ten-kopeckpieces: one for every minute they are late. Ina year's time there 'l l probably be enough moneyfor a good dinner party. Discipline is lackingamong the staff and the piggy-bank gains weightsteadily.Academician Kapitsa manages to have hiscolloquiums start exactly on the dot. His "Wednesdays" are the most representative scientificgatherings of physicists in Moscow. Kapitsamaintains a strict schedule. His colloquiumsnot only start on the dot, they also end withan accuracy of half a minute, lasting exactlytwo hours. If a report extends beyond the timeKapitsa politely interrupts the speaker in themiddle of a sentence, declaring that it is allvery interesting and we shall be happy to hear50

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or approval, advice and help. Having made. twoor three reports at representative colloqUIumswithout hearing sarcastic remarks to the effectthat, firstly, all he has said is trivial, that,secondly, it has long been published and that,thirdly it contains gross errors, the researcherknows 'that he can go on safely with his work.The listeners take note of the new informationthey hear and reflect on possible applicationsin their own fields.This part of a c o l l ~ q u i u m ' ~ work is . t h ~ mostimportant and most lOterestIng, but It IS notenough. One must, nevertheless, keep track ofworld scientific literature.I can't help sighing as I write these words.One may well speak of keeping track of worldli terature. Our scientific forebears of the 19thcentury could do it easily enough. Once a monththey waited impatiently for the a p p e a r a n ~ eof the one or two scientific journals in theirfield. Two or three days of reading was sufficientto keep abreast not only of new d e v e l o p ~ e n t sin physics or chemistry but of the general achIeve-ments of natural science as a whole.Those good old times are gone forever. ra-pid expansion of scientific r . e s ~ a r c h .defIes theimagination. One lover of statistics estimated thenumber of scholars that lived on earth from thedays of Romulus till our time. He found t ~ a tninety per cent of them are our contemporanes.A century ago the number of research ~ o ~ k e r swas in the thousands; today there are mIllions.It seems likely that in the third m ~ l l e n n i u mevery tenth inhabitant of the globe WIll be en-gaged in science.52

The results of the labours of this scholarly armyare reported in scientific journals. Do you knowhow many are published today? Fifty thousand!I f their publication wasTspread out evenly youwould be receiving a new magazine every tenminutes. In 1960, they carried 1,200,000 articles.So you can understand the reason for my heavysigh: a million papers in all languages, fromSpanish to Japanese.How can one expect to keep abreast of theachievements of science? '. One must, obviously,reject the idea of knowing everything aboutall sciences. Specialization has, alas, becomeinevitable. In fact, it has become impossibleto follow all developments even in physicsalone.In science, the magazine industry is not centra-lized. Far from it. Numerous journals in manycountries deal with identical subjects. Evenmore handle overlapping topics. Where, forinstance, could a paper entitled, "Investigationsof the Infrared Spectrum of Hemoglobin Crys-tals in Connection with Certain Problems of

Their Structure", be expected to appear? Inthe Soviet Union alone such magazines as SolidState Physics, Journal of Experimental andTheoretical Physics, Optics and Spectroscopy,Crystallography, Structural Chemistry, Biophy-sics, Biochemistry and a host of others wouldall be legitimately entitled to publish it."How do you manage?" the wondering readermay ask.One way out is the existence of various digests,abstracts and synopses, the importance of whichis steadily rising.

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In my line we have a journal of physical abstracts. Each month I get a thick volume containing summaries of 3,000 papers. I spend two


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several decades: the rate of scientific progressis steadily expanding, and in the near future,instead of today's million p a p ~ r ~ a year, weshall be inundated with tens of mllllons.Very often tens and even hundreds of .laboratories scattered all over the globe are sImultaneously engaged in tackling the same problems.

It wouldn' t be bad if the work of all th.ese researchers followed a unified plan. T ~ e r e . IS n? s.uchgeneral plan, however, and duplication IS ine-vitable.Unfortunately, our world is. divided. in.to twocamps. Capitalist states fevenshly bulldlng upstockpiles of armaments allocate . l a r ~ e sums forscientific research directly or indirectly connected with the development of nev: ~ e a n s ofdestruction. The countries of the s o c l a ~ l s t campare also forced to channel applied SCiencethe solving of mili tary problems. Works of thiSkind are classified, "closed", and no exchangesof information are possible.This state of affairs indirectly affects natur.alscience, insofar as it is impossible to predictthe practical importance of a r e s e a r c ~ . Hencecoordination of science on a worldWide scaleis impossible. . .The existence of national frontiers IS anothergreat obstacle in the way of the developmentof science and a source of senseless w a s t ~ of ~ n e r -gy of a vast number of scientists working I n d ~ -pendently of their counterpart.s ~ b r o a d . . It IShard even to imagine the qualitative leap thatwill take place in the rate of scientific advancewhen the world becomes united.58

Meanwhile, to be sure, there is plenty to do tomake order in our own house. The number ofscientif ic investigations in our country is multiplying with each passing year and the coordination of work on a national scale has become anabsolute necessity. In this we are entitled to lookforward to swift and complete success.Conferences play a great part in achievingcoordinated work. How are they organized?Usually they are sponsored by the centralscientific organizations, whose tasks includethe planning of meetings of researchers. An organizational committee is set up which decideswhere and when a conference should be held.Hundreds of invitat ions are sent out to organizations interested in the topics to be discussed,together with requests to submit applicationsand abstracts of papers. Depending on the numberof papers, a conference may last from two toten days. Papers on general topics are read be-fore all the participants, those dealing with specific problems are presented at meetings ofsections.My own experience suggests that the most successful conferences are usually those that areheld in cities like Krasnoyarsk, for instance:far away from the "centre". The travel expensesare certain to payoff.A chance to travel to the banks of the Yenisei,which may never occur again, attracts manybusy people engrossed in thei r work who otherwise feel reluctant to leave their laboratories.That is why choosing an exotic place is not a badmeans of ensuring a conference's success: thegreater the number of leading scientific lights

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attending it the more it can achieve. Secondly,such a conference is a tremendous stimulantfor the local scientists working in the fields tobe discussed at it. Natural ly , the choice of venueshould not be fortuitous, and Krasnoyarsk, say,is suitable only if the subject-matter is studiedlocally. Every conference "on location" givestremendous impetus to the development of science there, a very important consideration.So it is quite normal for a scientist to travelseveral times a year to Krasnoyarsk or Tartu,Odessa or Kishinev, where he can meet all hiscolleagues in the field and discuss things withthem.The reader may wonder what I mean by "dis-cussing things with colleagues". After all, a conference is convened to hear the papers presented.That is certainly so. Without papers there isno conference. But i f not for the possibility ofmeeting colleagues, i f not for the temptation ofunhurried discussions with like-minded people,

i f not for the desire to pick a fight with a scientif ic opponent , expose his insolvency and showyour own superiority for all to see - withoutall this conferences would be utterly shorn oftheir attraction, and their usefulness wouldbe reduced to a minimum.I had felt for some time that scientific papersdid not yet constitute a conference, just asvegetables do not yet constitute vegetable stew;however I forebore from expressing these subversive views until I attended my first internationalcongress. It was in 1956: before that visits abroadwere for the few. The conference was in Montreal,one of Canada 's best cities.60

A quarter of an hour after landing there I wassitting in an American car next to the drivermy professional colleague. The transition f r o ~the relaxed atmosphere of the airliner to thewhirlwind road traffic of the New World wasrather too sudden. I had not yet been able toappreciate the qual ity of the brakes and otheradvantages of high-powered American cars and several t imes in the course of the half-hour drive fromthe airdrome to the university campus where thecongress being h e l ~ I couldn't help squeezingmy eyes tIght: an aCCident in which yOU are oneof the chief participants is hardly a pleasing sight.. N ~ v e r t h e l e s s , r:ry companion's lively banterdldn t prevent him from delivering me in onep i e ~ e to university's student hostel. Spurredby ImpatIence to be at the hub of events as quickly as possible, within a quarter of an hour I entered the room where a paper was being read.(l was late for the opening of the conference,of course. I forgot to mention this becausealas, it had become a national trait R u s s i a ~scientists to be late to international meetings.)There were some 200 people in the room (therewere supposed.to be 800 participants, the thoughtcrossed my mlOd; where were they?), the lightswere out and the speaker was displaying diagramsof his experiments with the help of an epidiascope.I found a seat, but soon realized that I was unable to concentrate on my foreign colleague'sspeech. In the last few hours I had got used toa rapid succession of impressions, adjusted tothe rhythm, and couldn't sit still. I left the room,walked down the stairs and out into the university campus.

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There sitting in small groups or pairs underthe t r e ~ , on the grass, on folding chairs a ndoverturned orange crates or on the steps ofa flight of stairs, were the six hundred peop.lemissing in the hall. They were all engaged I I Ilively conversations. I quickly appreciated thepleasure and value of such unconstrained discussions.I also found that, far from being improper,it was natural for one to drift from group togroup, listen in to fragments o ~ c o n v e r s a t i . o ~and join it if it seemed interestmg. To facl1:t ate the task of locating one another, each partIcipant in the conference had a b a ~ g e p,inned tohis breast stating his name and nationality. I gota kick out of correlating the looks of a personwith a famous name. I t was curious to see thatZachariasen looked so young while I had imagined him to be an old man. Wilson turned outto be burly red-head. But who is that tall manwith the good-natured, kindly look? You come upcloser and see that it's Harker. A remarkablypleasurable occupation. A pity that the firstt ime can never repeat itself.In the following days, and at other big conferences, I saw that most of the participantstook the same attitude as 1. Of course, you attenda (small) percentage of the reports that i n t e r ~ tyou, but most of the time is spent t ~ l k i n g withyour professional. colleagues. ~ a k . m g theportuni ty to venfy your sClentlf.lc I d e a ~ , vOiceyour opinions, advocate your Views, hnd outthe details of your faraway counterparts' work.Scientific meetings of all kinds and at everylevel are necessary and useful, and I fail to under-62

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stand those few scholars who put on airs andcomplain that "conferences take up all theirtime". Time from what? A discussion of sciencewith a clever person! But that is an important element of scientific work!


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a young man we can do no more than watchhis behaviour attentively. Not unuseful, perhaps, are psychological tests, which are for somereason looked down upon in our country."My boy will surely be a scientist," a motherdeclares. "You simply can't tear him awayfrom books."This is a superficial conclusion: an addictionto reading means nothing in itself."My boy," says another mother, "is a goodmixer. He can't stand being alone, he's alwayswith friends."Well, some conclusions can be drawn fromthis observation. Perhaps one could even useit a starting point. I make bold to try anddehneate the traits and natural inclinationswhich I think important as raw material fromwhich to produce a scientis t.I am not an expert in psychology and perhapsmy .remarks may appear dilettantish. So, firstly,an Important quality, I think, is for the boy orgirl to like to remain alone with his or herthoughts. Naturally, a child is a child, and any

future scienti st must also be able to take delightin games and sport and dances, the same asfuture engineers or airmen. But still, the childwe are concerned with should like to remain alonewith a book, perhaps, or with a damaged wire:less set, or just like that. With no nothing.Alone with his thoughts.At the same time, such a disposition meansnothing in itself. It may well be the trait ofa future good-for-nothing. As mathematicianssay, th is is a necessary, but not sufficient con-dition. '

Chapter 5THE DOORS TO SCIENCE

. ..on reading this chapte r parent s of grown-up childrenshould be able to decide once and for all whether theiroffsprings should enter a post-gradultte course and preparethemselves for a sci en ti fic future or not.000

Molecular genetics is making such terrific headway nowadays, that one may well dream of thetime - truly an excellent topic for a sciencefiction story - when people will be able, bymerely inspecting a cell of tissue picked offa young man under a supermicroscope, to establish the nature of his inclinations and abilitiesand thus decide what education will suit himbest.Equcation is exceedingly important. But, inshaping a person one may act contrary to hisinborn characteristics (it is like teaching a horseto walk on its hind legs: the instructor spendsa tremendous amount of energy, but the enjoyment the animal derives from this unnaturalability is extremely questionable); or one mayfoster his natural inclinations: in this case bothinstructor and pupil will derive enjoyment andsatisfaction, and the results will be of use tosociety.Inborn inclinations are widely diversified.Today in deciding upon the best future for64 ~ 1 2 3 0 65


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A second important quality is curiosity. Allchildren of preschool age are naturally curious.Their endless "whys" are no more than an expression of the cur iosi ty essential to every person to learn to live in our world. As often asnot however this curiosity skims over the surf a c ~ and v a ~ i s h e s as soon as the chi ld learnsto interact painlessly with s u r r o u n d i n ~world. But if the curiosity rema10S and c o ~ t t -nues to develop, then thi s is an important .slgnwhich should not be overlooked. It is espeCiallygood when the cur iosi ty is persistent. The desireto get an answer to a question should be stubborn and ins is tent : if the parents are unable toprovide it , there are n e i g h b o ~ r s ; if n,o one canexplain it , there are books: If nght b o ~ k sare unavailable - I can ftgure It out, venfyand test it myself. .These two qualities are sufficient to ~ I s k plan-ning an academic future. But 10 whatfield?No tests, I think, can say what it is better tobe: a chemist or a biologist , a geologist or a hydrologist, a lawyer or a historian. The choice ofone's narrow profession is a work of chance.still a kind of general classification based onnatu;al bent can be undertaken. The curiosityis there: what is it aimed at? Interest in h u m ~ ndestinies in re la tionsh ips among people, 10man's p ~ s i t i o n in society, in the spiritual lifeof those about us - if it leads a young manto science at all, will most likely lead him tothe humanities. Interest in how things are madeand how they serve people will lead ~ i m intothe camp of applied scientists. Interest 10 nature66

will direct his academic inclinations to the na tural sciences.Sometimes parents doubt whether their sonshould launch a scientific career. His abilitiesare average, he studies so-so; but, on the otherhand, he has the desire. In this case every effor! ? ~ o u l d be taken to coax the youth to science.~ b l h t l e s may display themselves later, but evenIf they .are not above average, devotion to one' sw?rk WIll surely lead a person to his place inSCience, and the joy he derives from scientific

c ~ e a t i v i t y may be a hundred-fold greater thanhIs actual contribution to science.Traits useful for a good scientist - a clearand logical mind, a. good .memory - may failto reveal themselves If a chIld studies in a poor

s ~ ~ o o l and, furthermore, the thought of a scient ~ f l c career doesn't occur to his parents. In suchcIrcumstances even an exceptional combinationof such traits may prove useless. This is mostregrettable, and this is why the work our Siberianmathematicians have undertaken with the purpose of seeking out the most talented young people

drawing them into science deserves the highestpraise.. On the other. hand,. i f a child is brought upar: academIC famIly, and if, furthermore,fne.nds c ~ m e from a similar circle, his roadmto SCIence IS usually preordained. True , veryoften,. unfortunately, without any real groundsfor thiS.. The influx of young people into our inst itu!lOns .of higher learning is tremendous, and itIS m a l I ~ l y there that their destinies are decided.EducatIOn by word and by example is extremely

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important. A poor lecturer or one indif!erentto science may scare a student away from sC.lence.On the contrary, an inspired teacher and intensive scienti fic work carried out the collegeor university facilitate the blossoming of n ~ t u r a lscientific abilities and instill. love for. ~ c l e n c e .Then the time comes for taking a decIsIOn andthe young man says, "Science will be .my profession." His decision alone, however, IS sufficient to ensure the success of an academic career He may join a post-graduate course orthe 'staff of a research establishment, or he maybe frustrated by the need to to work at anindustrial enterprise, a hospital or a s ~ h o o l .Let us consider the straightest road to sCience:a post-graduate course.You get a telephone cal l from the board:"Will you be taking on post-graduate studentsthis year?""Yes. ,t"How many people?"I ponder: two? No, perh.aps t h r ~ . .Don't imagine that I like the Idea of having

more pupils. Working with a post-graduate student may turn out an e x t r e m ~ l ) : ' . ungrate.fultask. Besides, there is the responsIbility. Takinga post-graduate student means ~ h a t undertake to turn out a new scientist within threeyears. I f you don't - the fault is y o ~ r s . If yourstudent proves lacking, you shouldn ,t have taken him in the first place. I f Y01;1 can t say a n y ~thing bad about him, the fault IS all ~ o u ; own.you organized his work poorly, dIdn t provide him with the necessary ~ U 1 p m e n t a ~ d ,the gravest accusation, you failed to prOVide68

I.your student with a "dissertationable" (don'tlook for this word in a dictionary, you won'tfind it) theme. Giving a student a theme fromwhich he can't make a thesis is like placing a childat the centre of a maze: he is hardly likely everto find his way out.

So it would appear that the less post-graduatestudents you have, the better. However, onemust always reckon with the scientist 's graspingnature. Just as a jolly, happy-go-lucky familynever has enough money, no rna tter how muchits wages rise, so in a good research laboratorythere is never enough room, equipment or , especially, personnel. You have a flash of inspiration that must be verif ied, but there is no oneto do it as everyone is engaged in just as interesting work. It is almost useless to request an enlargement of the staff, and in any case it isa bother and a trouble, much worse than fussing with a post-graduate student.So you stake a claim for as many post-graduatestudents as you have place for tables shoved upend to end.Then the young people begin calling."How did you know I was taking post-graduatestudents?""I've long been wanting to work in yourlaboratory and have been following the work(this, of course, is a brazen lie), and now I'veheard from Nina (one of my post-graduate students) that you have vacancies... ""Hm ... When did you graduate?""This year.""Will your department give you a testimonial?"

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"I suppose so, I wasn't a bad student.""Why didn't you take a post-graduate courseat the department where you studied?"There are two possible replies to this:"There were only two vacancies, and the students with the highest grades were accepted."Or:"I don't feel like working in the field beingdeveloped at the department."I hope you can guess what answer carries moreweight. I must say that the research laboratoriesworking under the departments of our leadinguniversities are in the best position: they canchoose the best students.Some young people come after working a yearor two since graduation. I ask each one what hehas read, whether he realizes that he must havea fluent knowledge of English and that a post.graduate course is not a pleasure trip but s tudyand work fourteen hours a day."Furthermore," I warn him, "forget aboutholidays for all three years. I may give youa fortnight at most, if your work progresseswell."My purpose is to frighten them away with difficulties. The weak-hearted should drop awayat once."Well," I conclude the conversat ion, "handin your papers and prepare for your examinations."I must make a confession. It would be allvery well if the number of applicants exceededthe number of vacancies. Often it doesn' t. Butyou need workers in the laboratory. In this caseyou screen the applicants with half-closed eyes.

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Our nursery books teach us that no good everresulted from greed. Sometimes you get a weakstudent incapable of doing bet te r than a laboratory assistant working under a researcher.You manage to teach him the techniques of thejob but you can't make a self-reliant scientistof him. He leaves the laboratory at the end ofhis course in much the same status as he arrived.I f a scientific leader is a sensitive man he feelshimself to blame for dragging the young maninto a job far above him - and writes the dissertat ion for him.Such cases, however, are rare.

If a post-graduate course has failed to develop a love for science, the young candidate'sacademic career is as good as over. One can hardlyhope to leave a trace in science without loving it.The man will stick out like a white crow untilhe finally decides to find a job in which he willbe an equal among his colleagues. One need notshed tears over the failure, though. Many peopletake up post-graduate courses. At the end, thosedevoted to science remain in it, the others return to industry or take up teaching. And thisis very well too, for the three years spent on thecourse tells favourably on their work. Thus,science, industry and education all benefi t fromthe system of post-graduate studies.One doesn 't have to take a post-graduate courseto prepare a thesis; I have met many people whoseaccomplishments merit the highest esteem.After finishing college a young man goes towork at a factory laboratory or an industrialresearch institute engaged in carrying out urgentgovernment assignments. His work is important71


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and difficult and takes up all his time. I t cannotbe made the subject of a dissertation, though,as it lacks an essential element: the discoveryof some new scientific fact. It runs into snags.Working along prescribed lines, the researcherencounters contradictions, irrelevancies, and perhaps winds up in a blind alley. He forms newideas about how the work should be done andstarts experimenting and testing. The work isnot part of the official plan and it must be carried out late at night. He has to read a lot andhunt for relevant material in books and magazines.A capable and persistent. man. is ??und tosucceed. His work has genUine SCientific valueand can serve as the basis for a dissertation.It goes without saying that such a work is especially valuable and is worth much more thanthat of a post-graduate student holding on tothe skirts of his scientific leader.Presentation and "defence" of the dissertationis either the upshot of an academic c o u ~ s e ora necessary milestone on the road to sCience.The man's subsequent career depends on hisabilities and temperament. There is room enoughfor all for the conscientious plodder and theblazer new trails, for the bustling and the cool,for the ambitious and unambitious.There are, of course, many workers of all ranksand grades who take their jobs seriously butdo not really feel themselves members of thescientific community. It is not of these thatI speak, but of those to whom science is theirlife-work.Devotion to science pays off abundantly.Life is full-blooded and interest ing. Every day72

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brings something new and you live in an eternalfervour of expectation. Will you manage to complete your computations? What figure will anexperiment yield? Will your experiment bearout your theoretical premises?Research work is infinitely exciting. Youencounter something strange and vague. Yourexperiment yields an incomprehensible result.You go through all possible explanations invain. The mystery is with you all the time, itworries you at work, at home, in the underground train. Your mind fingers, inspects, envelopes the strange phenomenon from all sides.You seek approaches to the problem more stubbornly than a mountain-cl imber seeks the roadto an unaccessible summit. Then something likethe t ru th flashes in the darkness and you beginto see a line of reasoning; very slowly the lightdawns and the road opens up before you. Nowyou can take paper and pencil and try to advancewith the help of mathematical formulas or logical reasoning. You are unable to tear yourselffrom the work until you have reached the end.

Logic fails to solve the mystery. Hence theinitial premises must be wrong. You start allover again. Days and weeks and months pass at last there is victory. All the pieces fit togetherin an ordered pattern. The mystery has beencleared, the phenomenon explained. You experience a euphoria of joy and satisfaction. Youfeel an irresistible urge to broadcast your achievement to the world, to share your success andsee its importance and usefulness recognized.Since a researcher derives tremendous satisfaction from merely speaking of his work, he readily73


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accepts every proposal to do so. He will travelany distance heedless of fatigue or business. .It is natural for a person to talk about hImselfand his work, even though only a small circleof people may show interest. A researcher, however, is in love not only with his work, but withhis profession as well. He derives as much pleasurefrom explaining any problem relevant to hisfield, not just those he is working on. Neverbe afraid of interrupting him in his work witha meaningful question; his answer will be comprehensive and exhaustive, and after the interviewyou will realize that the researcher himself issatisfied with the conversation, with being ableto be of help with his knowledge and experience.Such unselfish assistance comes as natural toa scien tist as breathing, for it involves his work,the work of his life, and that is why it is wrongto fear that he may be sorry for the time wasted.It's quite another thing, though, when thewife wants to get her academic husband outto the theatre or to a beloved aunt's birthdayparty. He can never explain that his work isa hundred times more interesting than drinkingvodka or discussing the lates t Moscow theatrical news. Still, having recalled that all lastweek he never got home before 10 p. m., thescientist takes pity, gives in with a heavy sighand goes visi ting. Even then his troubles arenot over."Dear ,to the wife plucks at her husband'ssleeve, "Anna Ivanovna is asking you for the second time whether you liked the productionof Hamlet at Okhlopkov's theatre."

"Hamlet? Oh, yes... Yes, of course,marvellous."74

He returns ~ i t h a start to the strange world inwhich people are interested in trifles and keephim from pondering on the unusual behaviourof dichlorobenzene in transit ion from one phaseto another.It is not every company that derives satisfaction from the presence of an academic. He is,in fact, hardly there at all: in the flesh he maybe visiting, but his mind is in the laboratory.Not that sc ient ists are always du ll guests. Farfrom it: even a scientist's work has i ts natura lintervals. That is the t ime for him to joke, dance,drink vodka.The life of a devotee of science is not aliento the pangs and joys of ambition. Someonehas been working on the same subject as you.He has obtained more accurate results and published them before you. Your work is now useless. It is impossible to describe how painfully _one suffers - and what joy one experiencesif the opposite is the case.Your work to which you have devoted so muchthought and energy has been published. Butyour colleagues don 't ment ion it. No one seemsto have noticed it. A very unpleasant and gnawing state of affai rs. But then, two or threeyears later more and more references to the workbegin to appear; now you know that people arereading it and using it , which means that ithas contributed something to the advance ofthe whole scientific front. You are filled withtremendous joy, with a deep sense of satisfaction, with a realization of your usefulness,and if the word "happiness" has any meaning,this is it .

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Chapter 6SOME HISTORY

,. ,which tel ls how t he s tudy of nature by the method ofv ~ r b a l juggling was replaced by experiment. The readerwIll also learn that the wonderful achievements of sciencemade the physicists of the 19th century overconfident:they thought that all that was lef t to us was to reap thef ruits of their work.

In its development the human embryo repeatsthe whole cycle of evolution that, over millionsof years, transformed a tadpole into the kingof nature. It seems natural, therefore, to tryand compare the evolution of ideas from theancient Greeks to our t ime with the developmentof the conception of the world in a contemporarych

I Am a Physicist

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