I wonder if it only holds if, if they're in a relationship, it's with another scientist.
Lots of engineers are entranced by the "beauty and wonder" of their fields to the point infuriating their partners by, say, never going home on time, which can lead to long term lack of domestic well-being.
After all, the old joke about the frog and the engineer resonates for a reason:
> An engineer was taking a walk when a frog spoke to him and said, "If you kiss me, I'll turn into a beautiful princess."
> He picked up the frog and put it in his pocket.
> The frog spoke again and said, "If you kiss me and turn me back into a beautiful princess, I'll become your girlfriend."
> The engineer took the frog out of his pocket, smiled at it and put it back into his pocket.
> The frog spoke again and said, "If you kiss me and turn me back into a princess, I'll become your wife."
> The engineer took the frog out of his pocket again, smiled at it and put it back into his pocket.
> Finally, the frog said, "What is the matter? I'm a beautiful princess. Why won`t you kiss me?"
> The engineer said, "Look, I'm a busy engineer. I don`t have time for a girlfriend or a wife, but a talking frog, now that's cool."
I remember when I was taking quantum chemistry, and I learned that every molecule’s physical configuration is realizable as a very simple looking Hamiltonian (the typical charge potential + kinetic terms). How is it possible that this simple little equation accounts for all (non-relativistic) chemical properties and geometries??
For example, consider a water molecule: 10 protons, 10 electrons, and 8 neutrons. The Hamiltonian for this molecule consists of the pairwise interactions of the charges along with the kinetic terms for the individual particles, and that’s it. You don’t distinguish between the “atoms” in the molecule. Then, it’s too hard to calculate directly (we typically use various approximations, e.g., Born-Oppenheimer), but if you were able to explicitly compute the energy eigenstates for the full molecular (Coulomb) Hamiltonian, you could take these state vectors to generate probability distributions over physical particle configurations, and you would find that the “clusters” of eigenstates that correspond to energy eigenvalues yield the actual physical shapes of the water molecule. That’s mind-blowing!
And this applies to any molecule at all (or physical system). If, for a specific piece of DNA, you were able to compute the energy eigenstates of the Hamiltonian corresponding to the total number of protons, neutrons, and electrons for that DNA strand (just three integers used to generate the form of the entire molecular Hamiltonian), you would find that somewhere very (very) far along in the landscape of energy eigenvalues that your particular piece of DNA and its geometric form exists.
My multiple attempts to share with friends and family my excitement about the beauty of such a simple equation encoding the physical manifestation of the entirety of chemistry were met with blank stares and a change of the subject, so yes, the well-being benefit to admiring nature’s beauty probably applies only if you’re in a relationship with another scientist.
if you actually do quantum chemistry you will see the math is not simple. Your comments about DNA are basically wrong, as well, as the structure of DNA is defined partly by its environment (the specific details of waters that are only weakly bound, or not bound at all, salts and other ions).
I have—for my PhD dissertation I performed QMC calculations for lithium intercalation in carbon. Why do you assume I haven't?
> as the structure of DNA is defined partly by its environment (the specific details of waters that are only weakly bound...
Yes. Of course I've done water box simulations. Should I elaborate on all the minutiae of molecular dynamics for the reader? Or am I allowed to make some simplifications?
I'll be more precise: suppose we consider a strand of DNA and its immediate surrounding environment, and trace out the rest of the universe to produce a density matrix of just that subsystem. This is a solution to the Schrodinger equation for the entire subsystem, and we consider the resultant (not configurational) Hamiltonian for that system without any adiabatic approximations, making sure to specify a basis that removes symmetries (rotational, translational, permutational, etc.). Then you will find that if you could actually perform such a diagonalization of that massive Hamiltonian (I am quite aware that you can't), then a density plot of # eigenvalues vs energy will have peaks, and these peaks will correspond to real spatial structures of DNA, as previously mentioned. If you want to precisely specify "spacial structure", then let's use the definition of Salas, et al. (https://arxiv.org/pdf/2109.04542.pdf):
> A generally unambiguous concept of shape is straightforward if we return to the original spatial probability density in (3N − 3)-dimensional configuration space. Maxima of this function will correspond to relatively likely configurations. We will refer to the arrangement of such maxima in the configuration space as the quantal shape of the system.
Furthermore, I don't see how anything I said was particularly controversial, since I'm just paraphrasing others in the field. See R.F. Hendry in "Philosophy of Chemistry: Synthesis of a New Discipline", where he essentially says what I said above more precisely:
The resultant Hamiltonian for any particular system is that which arises from the following method:
i) Specify a list of fundamental physical interactions (gravitational, electormagnetic, strong- and weak-nuclear).
ii) Enumerate the microparticles present in the relevant system and list their charges, masses, and values of any other relevant quantities.
iii) Using only the approved “fundamental” forces in (i), list the interactions occuurring between the microparticles enumerated in (ii)
iv) Using the results of steps (i)-(iii), write down the kinetic and potential energy operators and add them
Happily for the strict physicalist, something very much like this method is taught to every student of quantum chemistry, with the proviso that particle enumeration remains at the level of electrons and nuclei, and only electrostatic terms are usually included in the potential energy operator. It really does yield a Hamiltonian for every molecule.
Archetypal mad scientists aren't comic book megalomaniacs, but are
sincerely touched by the majesty of creation. Feynman was one. Their
electric enthusiasm and sheer joy is infectious. I can remember at
least two or three teachers who had that glint in their eyes and I owe
a huge debt to them for passing on the spark. We used to have a lot
more "celebrity" scientists. In the UK we still have starry eyed
"billions and billions" Brian Cox. Back in the days of TV we had David
Bellamy (Botanist) and Johnny Ball (mathematician). The establishment
finds it hard to "manage" these people, so Bellamy was edged out for
his non-conventional take on climate, and Ball was ousted for his
passionate critique of declining education. The Aussies had Julius
Sumner-Miller, who seemed like a proper Doc Brown fruit-bat.
One aspect of this is probably that scientists will be taught conventional notions of beauty within their fields as part of the folk-wisdom around their course material. This is somewhat supported by the bar chart comparing physics and biology.
I wonder up to what extent the survey results reflect "knowledge" or "norms" and not "feeling" or "perception".
I think there is a much more direct connection between beauty and science just beyond the subjective appreciation that the article talks about.
As Soviet aeronautics engineer Andrei Tupolev remarked, 'a plane that is not beautiful does not fly'. implying that there is a direct connection between what is scientifically functional and what we perceive to be aesthetically interesting or pleasing.
I think this makes a lot of sense. Pure random noise is not beautiful, strict order is also not beautiful. Good science often looks for ideas that are simple, yet also complex and somewhere at that intersection. You find this in a lot of mathematics as well. Many famous proofs have that same aesthetic quality to them.
My PhD is in biophysics, which is a combination of these fields. We spend a fair amount of time trying to simplify the complexity (and place it in a more quantitative context).
We spent a lot of time looking at beautiful crystal structures and cells growing.
It may not be a straight comparison, if professionals in Physics vs. Biology are considering those concepts in the context of their fields.
Biologists can handle complexity more easily, because things grow. This is, biologists can do their work and admire the complexity unfolding in front of their eyes, without it derailing their ability to do research.
Physics is different: they're straining against their computational-limits, struggling with intense-complexity beating down on them. Physicists often imagine being able to calculate macroscopic phenomena through sufficient modeling of microscopic dynamics, though the complexity constrains them. For physicists, it can be a relief to find something simple enough to be understood.
A good analogy might be with respect to scientists doing Astronomical research on stars: biologists would be like astronomers who catalog massive amounts of stars, trying to find neat ones, while physicists would be like astronomers who try to create physical-models to simulate/predict stellar-dynamics. In the first case, one might admire a huge diversity of complex behaviors; in the latter case, one may be elated to find a simple explanation for something that seemed complex.
In other words, if you're working from the top-down, then you might admire the inner-complexity of the systems you get to work with; but if you're working from the bottom-up, then you might cherish simpler explanations that enable you to do more.
Sort of treating a funny comment seriously here, but I imagine that it's exactly like it is for EEs, which are also using lots of pieces of test equipment (sometimes the exact same, even).
It's not so much that messy labs are desirable or even okay for everyone, it's just that often it's pretty much impossible to keep your test bench "clean" and organized with so many devices, probes, and their cables, interconnected with each other. Or that even in the cases where you could achieve it, iterative changes to your setup mess that up immediately.
Personally I often like it, it feels like actual work getting done. %)
The absolute best bit about a test rig setup that's starting to evolve it's own sentience is that any time you are stuck, you can spend a whole day tidying it up, neatening cable routing, putting redundant things back in parts bins, mounting things to brackets, labelling stuff nicely, and so on. Not only will you feel like you're "getting stuff done", but anyone watching will see only a buzz of industrious activity, marvel at your pristine setup, and, moreover, at the end of the process, nothing will work and you get to spend another day debugging to get back to where you were at the start.
The good news is that somewhere along this route, your brain will probably have concluded you have obviously lost the plot and figured out the original problem all on its own. But now it's Friday evening, so write that thought down before you go or you'll forget it by Monday!
Oddly specific? Maybe, but I can't be the only one.
Not to mention Delbruck's principle of limited sloppiness. I don't know the best single place to read about it, but reading around the top google results you get the idea.
The prototypical story is Fleming's nose dripping into a petri dish enabling the discovery of penicillin. If he was less sloppy that wouldn't have happened. But he was unsloppy enough that when something unexpected happened he paid attention and knew what it meant.
Lots of engineers are entranced by the "beauty and wonder" of their fields to the point infuriating their partners by, say, never going home on time, which can lead to long term lack of domestic well-being.
After all, the old joke about the frog and the engineer resonates for a reason:
> An engineer was taking a walk when a frog spoke to him and said, "If you kiss me, I'll turn into a beautiful princess."
> He picked up the frog and put it in his pocket.
> The frog spoke again and said, "If you kiss me and turn me back into a beautiful princess, I'll become your girlfriend."
> The engineer took the frog out of his pocket, smiled at it and put it back into his pocket.
> The frog spoke again and said, "If you kiss me and turn me back into a princess, I'll become your wife."
> The engineer took the frog out of his pocket again, smiled at it and put it back into his pocket.
> Finally, the frog said, "What is the matter? I'm a beautiful princess. Why won`t you kiss me?"
> The engineer said, "Look, I'm a busy engineer. I don`t have time for a girlfriend or a wife, but a talking frog, now that's cool."