Illumination in Five Years

This week has been the 5th annual World Science Festival, and one way to look at 5 years of science festivals is to look at what has changed in science in the last five years. This is so much harder than for a technology conference, because in general science moves slowly, but thinking back those 5 years a lot has happened. The LHC, Genetic-based cancer therapy, discovery of thousands of exoplanets and my favorite “something from nothing”, though again we will get into the debate of whether that discovery is really indeed nothing. But I have one story that I was a witness to from the first year, which serves as a nice vindication for a very enthusiastic Columbia University Scientist Dickson Despommier.

The first WSF five years ago started with an event which has not been repeated, which was the World Science Summit. This was held at Columbia, and was a very high level interdisciplinary discourse among top scientists. I was of course just an observer, and was involved in the planning. Those on the panels however included 12 Nobel Laureates. This was a humbling room to be in for anyone. The panels were on a range of topics from climate change to cosmology. The panel that I remembered today when I entered a talk by Professor Despommier, was one regarding the future of agriculture. Despommier is the author of “The Vertical Farm”, published 3 years after that Summit, but that he was already teaching and consulting about. It was a form of hyper-local food, which would be grown in city center buildings using hydroponics and other technologies. His ideas were exciting and wild. Some involved the concept of beautiful buildings constructed by Frank Gehry or IM Pei, others were the use of old warehouses and factories, and still others were the use of vast basements lit by LEDs where produce could be grown. It seemed like one of these great futuristic ideas to me, especially as I have never bought into the Michael Pollan version of local organic farming which I find wasteful and deceptive, even though the food is tasty. Despommier once said on a panel with Pollan that he loved food from Michael’s garden, but that he harvested it only once per year. It is not likely to feed India, or even Scranton, or something to that extent. So this idea seemed great, and even though I already had a Ph.D. in Applied Physics, I saw nothing fundamentally wrong with the idea. That was until we sat down to lunch where I picked the most Nobel prized packed table in the building. Though I won’t mention many names, I will say that the consensus at the table amongst the group was that Despommier’s ideas, especially concerning LEDs were physically wrong. One name that I will mention was the now Energy Security in the Obama administration Steven Chu. Chu is brilliant, and I knew this not only because of the Nobel. So I deferred on the debate and rather sadly dismissed the idea that the future would be filled with vertical farms.

Well Dr. Chu, and the rest were wrong to my delight. Five years later Despommier reported back with a presentation today about several incredibly successful vertical farms. It is not surprising I guess considering Chu’s current role that they are not located in the United States, but rather in Korea, Sweden, Singapore and Japan. That is just a start though. Chicago Mayor Rahm Emmanuel who is of course no longer running the White House, but instead running Chicago, loves Vertical Farming, and has led the effort to convert old slaughterhouses into Urban farms. They are set to open soon. Brooklyn will be next to follow, as well as Milwaukee.

So while science moves slowly, and cynicism can slow things down even more, advances do occur when they are ready. I realized something about myself too in those five years. That is that I should have spoken up. I was more cowardly than undereducated. These days I have a company that does among other things LED inspection. From the first meeting I had with a potential LED customer I realized how wrong Chu et al. were, and how I could have made an argument as a physicist even then.

Stuart Firestein has a new book called “Ignorance”, about embracing and challenging those things on the fringes of our knowledge. LEDs were not an expertise of mine, but materials were. I did understand enough to “ignorantly challenge” these guys. So I look forward to yet another meeting of minds more refined, and recognized than my own, where I can stand up rather than sit back, whether it is for a brighter future, or just one where a tomato is grown downstairs.

In Our Agora

In the mid 19th century, and before, American cities had landmarks which were not purely religious, or commemorative in nature even if that was there original intention. Here in Brooklyn, Henry Street has one of the most famous old churches of the Whitman era, which was not so much famous for the gospel being preached on Sundays, but for visiting superstar orators like Henry Ward Beecher, or even writers like Whitman himself, who while not usually going into the church proper, gave lectures just outside. Human history has been marked by people who can speak well, which can be powerful and inspiring, or treacherous and dangerous. The 20th century saw television speakers, who didn’t possess the same concise talent, but still were able to move people, and due to radio waves a Kennedy could do it en masse. Right now however a new phenomena is occurring, in which mass oratory seems to have become a requirement of almost any field from formerly reclusive artists, to architects, theoretical scientists, and even people who grow gardens on their rooftops. The clearest place where this is visible is in the enormous popularity of TED Talks, where the range of ability and expertise ranges greatly, but the ability to give a good talk is nearly universal as it has become the priority of the group. The Moth talks are rehearsed story time of the semi famous, who for 20 minutes are not practicing, or even talking about their expertise per say, but orating to a small room, and podcasting to audiences of millions. I must listen to 100 of these type of small talks per week. They are an addiction of the short attention span want-to-be intellectual like myself, who holds a false delusion of being able to take in enough information in 10 to 20 minutes on a topic to be conversant in the field being discussed. This mass oration with massive audiences has made micro-polymaths of a nation and a world. As I watch these, I feel slightly anxious. We have so quickly moved from an age of specialists, to an age where people are interdisciplinary. Just 5 years ago when I first got involved with the World Science Festival the idea of combining art and science on a grand scale was revolutionary, as those worlds were generally separate. Now I am a part of 10 or more online groups that do this, and they all have excellent spokespeople. So here is the question that I am left with. Have all of us who have wanted these worlds combined found it in the voices of our best orators? I think it is not enough. I am glad that they exist, and that I can spend that time listening, and learning little bits, but in doing so I also realize that the trend can be counterproductive to me, and I would guess to other people.

While online oration is more accessible than ever through Youtube on an I-PAD, laptop, Apple TV and dozens of other devices that are designed for viewing media, there is something else that needs to go along with it, which is to create, and not just consume. Luckily the tools to be creators are better now than ever. Arduino micro-controllers exist for creating electronics, 3D printers, and development kits for programming and visualization. What happens though is that we are stuck with little time , not just because we are watching others in short doses, but also because we are wanting to be them. We are not wanting to be them in terms of artists, architects and scientists, but to be orators of who we are.

To speak has sometimes been ethereal and at other times not. Lincoln’s Gettysburg address is still admired, but only as a written account of an oration. Presidents have been used to being recorded for posterity, but now we all are, and we happily embrace it, perhaps rightfully so. Isn’t this the key to democracy? Isn’t this the Agora of the 21rst Century? What we don’t do though is realize that not everyone can or should be the perfect orator. Some should create song, some videos, some computer programs, and some poems, without ever having to speak to audiences of millions about them. Some should be heard, and seen, and some not need to be. The freedom to adore oration has imprisoned the creative person in the confines of a world where communication is more important than content.

So as I finish this I go back to planning my University lectures which I give every Monday. Last semester they were recorded, and this semester they are not. I feel differently about these two things. Certainly the recorded lectures have the potential of being more important, but when I go back and watch them I realize that I was being cautious. I was trying to be a good speaker. I wanted to be a  good lecturer, and sometimes not taking the risks that I should have taken. A professor should not be judged mainly by the quality of the speech, but rather by the quality of the words.

With all of this said I remain ambivalent about the overall effect on society. What enriches so many, can lead to stagnation by so many others. I guess the only thing I would say is that opportunity is sometimes at your fingertips, not always at your mouth.

The Life of The Party

It should have been that the most offensive thing I did for the World Science Festival was to write a blog criticizing the Templeton Foundation, and the invitation of Francis Collins (http://my.technologyreview.com/mytr/social/blog/post.aspx?wuid=121430&bpid=746). Though I don’t really feel much differently about the fact that a religious fundamentalist should not be the most powerful government funder of science, I do think that I may have been too hard on the science festival. I went to the Collins event “Our Genomes, Ourselves”, and thought it was thought-provoking, and completely scientific. Collins did not appear to be an extremist. What I really regret though is that even though this year’s festival was so wonderful, and my family was involved in a number of ways, I still managed to be on the obnoxious side at the Jazz Party that my wife and I were hosting. The issue was that our featured band “Wake Up!” who I consider the best live band in New York was well-liked, but several people complained that the music was too loud. Instead of being a gracious host I said things like “if you don’t want to stay, no one is forcing you.” I did this for two reasons, as inexcusable as they may be. The first is that the music is so important to me that I wanted to share it with the World Science Festival which is also very important to me. It made me think that these people who wanted it quieter did not appreciate the brilliance of the band, and that frustrated me for artistic reasons. The other reason is more unreasonable, which is that I think music should be loud.

My visceral response to loud/quality music is certainly not unique to me. The desire to create music which has a level which physically alters the surrounding through power and volume goes at least as far back as Vivaldi and Bach. At St. Thomas in Leipzig Germany where Bach was the music director for much of his life, he spent a great deal of time raising the funds for large pipes for the organ. The purpose of large pipes is similar to the purpose of large sub woofers that people put in their cars. It is so that you feel the low tones. Bach combined this with as many pipes of various sizes as possible in order to have such a sound that the “Passions” were truly passionate. The floors, walls and ceiling of St. Thomas shook with beautiful, stunning and yes…loud music.

I do want to make it clear that I don’t think Bach was equivalent to a car stereo system. There is something moving about the live experience. I also think this is true of “Wake Up!” which played unamplified at this party. I also don’t think that Bach or “Wake Up!” wanted to inflict pain. If the experience is actually painful, as it may have been for some, then that is a problem. Instead it is more a question of focus. While a party is about being with other people, if music is the centerpiece of that party it must also be the most present participant in the room.

Another example of having music which is felt, rather than just heard comes from the inventor of the phonograph. Thomas Edison had very poor hearing to begin with, yet he was able to go to concerts and hear the music. Just hearing it was not enough for him. Once he invented the phonograph, he would literary bite down on the frame of the machine in order to feel the sound. As strange as this sounds, we know that the human ear in its present form is a rather recent evolutionary development. Mammals used to do much of their hearing though interpretations of vibrations in their bones, eventually (like Edison) in their jaws. This was naturally a survival mechanism at the time, as mammals needed to hear dangers coming from nocturnal predators. Since early instruments came so early to humans, it is likely that music has always been both felt and heard.

This doesn’t excuse my rudeness, but it does explain my priorities a bit. The World Science Festival is successful because of its highly engaging blend of arts and sciences, and its ability to do this without dumbing down either the science or the art. Furthermore the audiences really do come from various backgrounds, unlike most conferences. At the Armitage Dance Event associated with the Festival, the moderator of the science discussion Steve Mirsky following the performance took an informal poll of the audience, asking who comes from the arts, and who from science. The audience appeared almost equally divided. This is such an inspiring and hopeful sign. My desire for people to feel the power of a new form of musical expression comes from the same place as my desire for people to hear Stephen Hawking, or watch Armitage’s dance. Like those two things it is important, and can’t be done quietly.

A Speck in His Eye or a Plank In Mine?

Hopes have been ridiculously high for the Obama administration during his first year and a half.  I have been the first to criticize him from the comfortable position of Paris, which I realize is unfair. I will refrain from discussion about extra troops in Afghanistan, a watered down health care bill or the slowness of financial regulation, mainly because I still think “yes we can”, even if history would show that “maybe if we are lucky we can”. The one decision that I haven’t been able to come to terms with is one that most people think was either an inspired choice, or at least a benign one. That is the appointment of Francis Collins to be the Director of the NIH (National Institute of Health). For anyone who doesn’t know about Dr. Collins, he is indeed an important figure in science. He was in charge of the Human Genome Project, which together with the private company headed by Craig Venter decoded the human genome. He has had a distinguished career, which no one would deprive him of. Equal to his science fame however is his fame as a born again Christian. He has recently been appointed by Pope Benedict XVI to the Pontifical Academy of Sciences. People’s personal faith is there business, and certainly not something I should criticize. That is unless that person writes books about it, and says why that faith influences their jobs. For Collins, he does not speak of faith as something which is only personal; he speaks of it as an evangelical, and one which is especially delusional in my view. Central to his conversation to Christianity is a vision he had of the trinity in a three spring waterfall, which is not so entirely different than seeing Jesus Christ in a grilled cheese sandwich (a not unheard of thing). Still, that is just personal, but now he is in a place of power when it comes to handing out the majority of federal biology research dollars. He has said that work on biology is simply a means by which he can understand his Christian god. To me this is a bias that science cannot have. The scientific method must lead down a path that the evidence leads you, not your faith.

This complaint is now old. The reason it comes back to me is that Collins is a participant in an event that I have been involved with, The World Science Festival (WSF). I am not an organizer for WSF, but still I care deeply about it, and support it a number of ways. Still when people look at the WSF website they will see Francis Collins on the schedule and a religious/science organization (Templeton) as a major sponsor. I have to ask myself if my involvement in this group makes my criticism of Obama hypocritical.  In the end I hope, and think that it is different. I think that on average the WSF participants are non-religious, so Collins involvement is more of a balance than a standard. I write this only because our choices are not without consequence. I would not want to be involved with a science festival which promotes public understanding of science, only for the public to be exposed to superstition such as waterfall trinities.

Evolving Music

Last night for the opening Gala of the World Science Festival, I was manic with ideas, dreams, and general excitement. Here was a room of some of the world’s greatest scientists, artists and musicians, all successfully blurring the lines of creativity and rigor, elegance and structure, and all the time being extremely entertaining. The second act was a new composition by Philip Glass with projections of stunning nature photographs by Frans Lanting. It would be difficult to imagine a better night for me, who spends so much time on the fringes of these worlds. It was a chance to be inside, and really experience ideas and art that relate to science. For some reason though there must be a devil on my shoulder, which acts as a grumpy cynic telling me to be overly critical. While in the taxi going home I told my wife Marine that I was disappointed by the Glass score. I felt it derivative of Copland, and essentially reactionary in style. Marine, rightly so, rather than rolling her eyes in the dark, put a stop to this musical elitist talk, by saying something like “isn’t beauty and symmetry through harmony a way of representing nature, whether it is “Appalachian Spring” years ago, or Philip Glass today?”

This was impossible to argue rationally. As James Watson said during his speech at the Gala, all we have is evolution. Brian Greene, in his presentation with Josh Bell gave a cosmological time line of the universe, and put the seconds of existence of humanity in prospective. Even evolution of organisms is so incredibly slow; that the time between 1944 when Copland composed “Appalachian Spring”, and Philip Glass composed his piece which was premiered last night is irrelevant in evolutionary terms. Certainly species have not changed so quickly. Why then do I make this analogy of evolution in nature to evolution in art? I expect progress. In my mind this means something unique which is representative of our present time. If the representation is nature, then isn’t our time basically the same as any other time that humans have been around? Of course it is, but for some reason I am brought back to the question of what makes humanity, this often destructive force in nature, unique and full of potential. Last night’s Gala actually gives me an answer I am content with. We are always working hard at understanding something about ourselves, and our universe. We are searching for something that we didn’t know before we read an important book, or before we took a class, or before we saw a dance concert. While evolution happens slowly, comprehension happens quickly. We experiment to understand, and are continually left with questions, and more experiments to do.

Coming back then to whether art, music in this case, needs to evolve rapidly, even when it is representing something that is evolving slowly. I think we are driven towards asking artistic questions the way we do scientific ones. That is we experiment, and find an answer, only to have another question and then do an experiment again. Like Newton, Darwin or Einstein who discovered amazing truths in their lives, it would not be enough to rediscover them now. In the same way, we need to push ourselves musically and artistically in general to see and hear something unique and new.