To a Trillion Snowflakes
We live in a world that craves the eureka moment--the something-for-nothing insight that opens up whole new horizons in an instant stroke. Once in a great while that happens. But typically, science is a much slower thing: an inch-by-inch process in which data point is stacked atop data point, micro-insight atop micro-insight, until a weight suddenly shifts, a balance suddenly tips, and the world changes. That leaves no room for doodles or distractions. It leaves room only for notebooks and the work.
And of course, those big breakthroughs don't happen often, though in the past year (2013) there were several: scientists have found a fast and precise new method to manipulate the codified information that will dictate the form and factor of any living organism. The Higgs Boson, the elementary particle that holds together the very edifice of Einsteinian theory, was confirmed. Stanford Researchers have come up with CLARITY, an imaging technique to make our brains LITERALLY SEE-THROUGH. For the first time ever, we will be able to study intact systems with molecular precision and global scope.
And all over the other scientific disciplines—-zoology, medicine, electrical engineering—-there were triumphs big and small. Some of them, like the recent breakthoughs in stem-cell research, will bring new organs for the sick. Some of them, like the discovery of exoplanets orbiting other stars, may reveal extraterrestrial life. Some of them will help us save our own ravaged planet, or protect our threatened animals, or understand our evolutionary past. All of them will leave us better, healthier, or just plain smarter than we were before.
We live in a world of tremendous achievements. But Rachel, we have to recognize that science moves much slower than what it seems. We have to recognize that we only hear the success stories and never the failures. We have to recognize that every time someone achieves something remarkable, other brilliant men and women--through their tireless effort, discoveries, failures, and filled notebooks--have already laid a foundation of what paths we should take a chance on.
Science does move slowly, but only for the build up. When it falls--like an avalanche built from a trillion, trillion flakes-—it moves crushingly fast. It makes me marvel at mountain of minuscule snowflakes upon which our modern civilization rests. This year, like all other years, the snow will shift again. But maybe one day, I might get to place a few more of them on the top.
And of course, those big breakthroughs don't happen often, though in the past year (2013) there were several: scientists have found a fast and precise new method to manipulate the codified information that will dictate the form and factor of any living organism. The Higgs Boson, the elementary particle that holds together the very edifice of Einsteinian theory, was confirmed. Stanford Researchers have come up with CLARITY, an imaging technique to make our brains LITERALLY SEE-THROUGH. For the first time ever, we will be able to study intact systems with molecular precision and global scope.
And all over the other scientific disciplines—-zoology, medicine, electrical engineering—-there were triumphs big and small. Some of them, like the recent breakthoughs in stem-cell research, will bring new organs for the sick. Some of them, like the discovery of exoplanets orbiting other stars, may reveal extraterrestrial life. Some of them will help us save our own ravaged planet, or protect our threatened animals, or understand our evolutionary past. All of them will leave us better, healthier, or just plain smarter than we were before.
We live in a world of tremendous achievements. But Rachel, we have to recognize that science moves much slower than what it seems. We have to recognize that we only hear the success stories and never the failures. We have to recognize that every time someone achieves something remarkable, other brilliant men and women--through their tireless effort, discoveries, failures, and filled notebooks--have already laid a foundation of what paths we should take a chance on.
Science does move slowly, but only for the build up. When it falls--like an avalanche built from a trillion, trillion flakes-—it moves crushingly fast. It makes me marvel at mountain of minuscule snowflakes upon which our modern civilization rests. This year, like all other years, the snow will shift again. But maybe one day, I might get to place a few more of them on the top.
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