Tag Archives: Knowledge

“Anything truly novel is invented only during one’s youth”

This summer I read Walter Isaacson’s illuminating biography of Albert Einstein, the man who is widely considered to be the greatest thinker of the 20th Century. In 1905, when he was only 26 years old, he published four groundbreaking papers that forever changed the way people understood space, time, mass, gravity and energy.

By the time Einstein turned 40 in 1919, at a moment when he was struggling to devise a unified theory of matter, he complained to a friend that “Anything truly novel is invented only during one’s youth. Later, one becomes more experienced, more famous – and more blockheaded“.

Einstein’s frustration at his diminished capabilities as he aged is a phenomenon that is considered common with mathematicians and physicists who seem to make their greatest contributions to science before they turn 40. Einstein remarked to a colleague that as he got older he felt his intellect slowly becoming crippled and calcified.

Why does this happen? In Einstein’s case, it was partly because his early successes had come from his rebellious traits. In his youth, there was a link between his creativity and his willingness to defy authority and the universally accepted cosmological laws of his day. He had no sentimental attachment to the old order and was energized at the chance to show that the accepted knowledge was wrong or incomplete. His stubbornness worked to his advantage.

After he turned 40, his youthful rebellious attitudes were softened by the comforts of fame, renown, riches and a comfortable home. He became wedded to the faith of preserving the certainties and determinism of classical science – leading him to reject the uncertainties inherent in the next great scientific breakthrough, quantum mechanics. His stubbornness began working to his disadvantage as he got older.

It was a fate that Einstein began fearing years before it happened. He wrote after finishing his most groundbreaking papers: “Soon I will reach the age of stagnation and sterility when one laments the revolutionary spirit of the young“. In one of his most revealing statements about himself, Einstein complained: “To punish me for my contempt of authority, Fate has made me an authority myself“. He found it even harder as he got older acknowledging “the increasing difficulty a man past fifty always has adapting to new thoughts”.

Einstein brilliance is beyond compare, but I can relate to his observation about doing your best work when you are young. When I look back at my personal life and work career, I recognize that I was at my most ambitious and innovative during the decades of my 20’s and 30’s.

My adult life exploded with big events in 1982, the year that I turned 22. In the timespan of that one year I managed to graduate from college, marry my college sweetheart, start my first professional job as an engineer, buy a new house and a new car, and learn that my wife and I were going to become first-time parents. I remember filling out a survey designed to measure the amount of stress in your life during that eventful year and being surprised when the calculated stress numbers registered so high that they indicated I should be dead!

But all of it was exhilarating to me at that point in my life. I was experiencing new things and accumulating knowledge like a sponge. I knew that my growing family would be counting on me to be a good provider – which gave me the incentive I needed to focus on building a stable career.

I was determined to be successful in my engineering role and threw myself into learning everything I possibly could about the company I worked for as well as the electronic test and measurement equipment that they manufactured.

Many of my co-workers had graduated from more prestigious universities than me and I felt that I had something to prove. I wanted to make a name for myself and grow my reputation and value within the company by making important contributions to the projects to which I was assigned.

I took several continuing education engineering classes at night to improve my knowledge of subject areas that I knew would be helpful to me at work, I sought out brilliant co-workers who could mentor me and give me wise advice on how to approach complex technical projects, and I questioned everything – wondering if there might be a better solution to the problems we were trying to solve.

This drive in my early career to be successful enabled me to do my most innovative and important work for the company during the decades of my 20’s and 30’s. In the span of my first 18 years working for the company, I was awarded two patents, helped develop multiple new test products which generated millions of dollars for the company, created automated software regression tests significantly lowering product development times while improving software quality, and published frequent technical articles for industry conferences and trade journals.

By the time I turned 40, I could point to many important career milestones and had achieved recognition as a top performer and leader within the company. The rewards of my hard work were a comfortable home and financial independence. With this success I began to have feelings of contentment that lessened my drive to take on new projects or solve interesting problems. I became comfortable and happy with life as it was – I no longer felt the need to over-extend myself.

I was satisfied to rest on my past achievements and to take on less tasking roles that would improve the product in evolutionary, rather than revolutionary ways. Over time, I became the wise, experienced, older mentor to younger employees who came to me for advice and direction.

I felt okay with that transition as I considered it my good fortune to be in a situation where I was able to share my knowledge with a new generation of ambitious young people who were ready to make their own marks on the world by inventing novel new solutions that were now beyond me. In some ways, being a part of those collaborative efforts made me feel better than my individual personal accomplishments.

The famous journalist Ed Bradley once interviewed Bob Dylan in 1998 on the television show 60 minutes, at a time when he was approaching 60 years old. During the course of the interview, Bradley asked Bob what the source of inspiration was for his famous early songs, the ones that led to him being recognized as the voice of a generation while he was still only in his 20’s.

Dylan replied that his early songs were almost magically written and that he felt some kind of power, outside of himself, flowing through him while was writing them. When Bradley asked if he could still tap into that penetrating magic now in his songwriting, Dylan paused and said; “No, I don’t know how I got to write those songs“. Bradley followed up and asked if that disappointed him, Dylan replied softly; “Well you can’t do something forever and I did it once… and I can do other things now – but I can’t do that“.

That is a healthy way, I believe, of thinking about what is possible for each of us as we age. My days of endless ambition and innovative thinking are past. But I can do other things now that I couldn’t do then. I can indulge hobbies that interest me, I can find new paths to hike and rivers to fish, I can help care for my mother in her old age and I can share what I have learned through my life experiences and pass it on to my grandchildren and the larger community via this blog.

There will only ever be one Einstein, none of us will ever be as brilliant as him – but if you are under 40, get busy by putting your spry young mind and youthful ambition to work! Maybe you too can come up with novel ideas and ways of doing things that will help change the world or someone’s life for the better.

And if you are over 40, you can be like Einstein in his older years; contributing in a positive way to his community and sharing his wisdom, experience and good fortune with the next generation. In the end, many of our late in life pursuits that we share with others can end up being more rewarding and meaningful to us than any personal accomplishments we achieve along the way.


“I do not understand; I pause; I examine”

Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592) has been recognized as one of the most significant philosophers of the 16th century. Born into a privileged family and raised during the period of the French Renaissance, he was educated in a private boarding school where all his lessons were taught in Latin. Because of his family’s great wealth, he was free to devote the first half of his life to jobs serving the public sector; including volunteering as a legal counselor, advisor to King Charles IX and mayor of the town of Bordeaux.

In 1571, at the age of 38, he retired from public life to his estate, where he isolated himself from all social and family affairs so that he could dedicate his time to reading, meditating, and writing. It was in his castle’s round library room – which contained more than 1,500 books – where Montaigne probed his mind and produced two highly influential books titled simply Essays; which he published in 1580. Montaigne wrote that “I am myself the matter of my book“, and his stated goal was to describe humans, and especially himself, with utter frankness.

Some of the key topics Montaigne explored in his various essays include:

  • Mankind’s dangerously inflated claims to knowledge and certainty
  • The assertion that there is no greater achievement than the ability to accept one’s limitations
  • The problem of trying to locate truth in commonly accepted ideas that are false or unexamined – especially since many things we held yesterday as articles of faith today we know as fables.
  • The importance of freeing ourselves from outside influences, customs and opinions
  • His belief that the best path to understanding truth is by a careful exploration of one’s own body-and-mind.

Montaigne believed that the self, even with all its imperfections, was the best possible place to begin the search for truth, even though our identities can’t be defined as a stable thing because it is always changing. The most obvious example to him was the struggle of living with the infirmities of a human body. “Our bodies smell, ache, sag, pulse, throb and age regardless of the best desires of our mind. It is only in acceptance of these traits that we can remain faithful to the truth of one’s being.

Montaigne isolated himself while writing his Essays but maintained the importance of maintaining contact with the outside world of other people and events because one can learn much that is useful from others. He described human beings as having a front room, facing the exterior street, where they meet and interact with others, but also with a back room where they are able to retreat back into their interior private self to reflect upon the vagaries of human experience and consider how it impacts their intimate identity.

Montaigne was refreshingly different from other philosophers and academics of his day who believed that their advanced powers of reason were a divine gift that gave them mastery over the world and a happiness that was denied to lesser educated creatures. He mocked those philosophers who were proud of their big brains and his writings come across as wise and intelligent – but also as modest and eager to debunk the pretensions of learning.

He wrote of his fellow academics and philosophers: “On our highest thrones in the world we are seated, still, on our arses” and, “…in practice, thousands of little women in their villages have lived more gentle, more equable and more constant lives than us.

He mocked books that were difficult to read. He found Plato boring and just wanted to have fun with books. “I’m not prepared to bash my brains out for anything, not even for learning’s sake – however precious it may be. If one book tires me, I just take up another.

[note: I must admit that this sentiment makes me feel somewhat better about my decision to hold off reading the notorious difficult novel Ulysses by Irish writer James Joyce].

Montaigne was honest about the limitations and usefulness of his own intellect and attacked his prestigious academic friends for studying difficult things that were not useful to our lives.

“Difficulty is a coin which the learned conjure with so as not to reveal the vanity of their studies. Intellectuals would prefer you to study other people’s books way before we study our own minds. If man were wise, he would gauge the true worth of anything by its usefulness and appropriateness to his life”

I can’t help but wonder if Montaigne’s admiration for the working class – and life’s simple things – stemmed from the decision his humanist father made to leave him for three years when he was a small boy in the sole care of a peasant family in their town, in order to “draw the boy close to the people, and to the life conditions of the people, who need our help“.

Whatever the reason for his modest and humble personality, Montaigne comes across as one of the world’s first examples of a tolerant mind; a breath of fresh air in the cloistered and snobbish corridors of 16th century academia. He became an inspiration and encouragement to all those who felt put-upon and patronized by the arrogance of self-proclaimed clever people.

Montaigne tells us that each one of us is richer than we think. We may all arrive at wise ideas if we cease to think of ourselves as unsuited to the task just because we haven’t been classically trained or happen to lead an ordinary life.

The inscription Montagne had placed on the crown of the book shelf in his library was “I do not understand; I pause; I examine“. He had the inscription placed there to remind him of the limitations of his own knowledge and to caution him about the dangers that can result when one hastily forms opinions without careful consideration of all the facts.

Too many people today, especially since the advent of social media – which allows anybody to pass themselves off as experts – form their beliefs by adopting commonly accepted ideas or by making broad generalizations. Outside influences and political talking points trigger knee-jerk reactions from those who fail to take the time to study all sides of a topic – or to consider what is the truth and what is morally just.

It would be refreshing if more of us today, before forming our opinions, would like Montaigne, acknowledge the limitations of our knowledge, admit that we don’t fully understand a topic and then take time to examine all aspects of the issues in question using qualified experts in the field as our guides.

The danger of operating a society with uninformed or half-informed subjects was identified as early as the 2nd century by the Roman writer Publilius Syrus who said that it is “Better to be ignorant of a matter than to half know it“.

Today there are so many competing sources of information, where anyone with a computer can offer their uninformed opinions. Few people check the credentials of writers or the authenticity of the facts, and foreign actors can easily spread misinformation along via unregulated social networks.

The next time we are asked to form an opinion or make a decision about subjects we do not fully understand, we would do well to follow the sage advice of Montaigne: Do not let somebody else speak for you and do not fall prey to the pressures of biased outside influences. Instead take a moment to pause, study all sides of the issue, consult qualified experts and sources, and endeavor to reach true understanding.

If you can summon the conviction and discipline to do this, then you will be able to take solace knowing that even though you can not govern external events, you at least govern yourself.


“Seek Moderation in everything, except Knowledge…”

School was not my favorite thing when I was attending grades 1 through 5 at a Catholic elementary school in my hometown – mostly because of the rigors and discipline that were imposed on the students by the Sisters of the Sacred Heart. Those sisters demanded obedience and made embarrassing examples out of any child found to be cutting corners or violating the rules. I did not thrive but I did manage to adapt to that austere school environment.

When I was 12 years old, my parents decided to enroll me in the sixth grade of the local public Elementary school because it was closer to my home and less expensive for my parents – who were doing their best to make ends meet while supporting their large family of 8 children.

I was the new kid in class and it was the first time I was exposed to a teacher who was not a Nun. My teacher, Mr Genaitas, was a man who became the first person in my life, outside my family, to really encourage me and motivate me to want to do my best.

While attending the Catholic elementary school I was just an average student at best – nothing special – but in my new public school surroundings I suddenly found myself at the top of my class, quickly becoming a favorite of my teacher who was delighted by my addition to his class. He pointed me out as an example for the other kids to follow,  awarded me special privileges for my assistance in tutoring other kids and suggested to me additional readings that he thought would challenge me.

I came to realize later in life that I probably owed my sixth grade success, and many of the fruits of my life’s later accomplishments, to the rigor and discipline that I learned at the hands of those Sisters of the Sacred Heart. Despite the negative aspects of the education system employed by the Nuns, they certainly instilled in me the values of hard work and sacrifice that have served me well throughout my whole life. My experience is that the Catholic education system teaches good learning habits that stay with you for life.

The things I got in abundance from Mr Genaitas that I did not get from the Nuns is encouragement, praise, validation and self-esteem. At the end of my sixth grade school year I left for Junior High School filled with confidence and the belief that the direction my life could take had endless possibilities. Sometimes on my way home from Junior High School I would stop by my old 6th grade classroom and visit with Mr Genaitas. He would smile at me proudly and give me advice as I told him about my classes and the subjects I was learning.

Teachers have the power to change a life. I have heard numerous people fondly reminisce about a teacher from their past who they looked up to and who made a positive difference in their life. All it takes is one inspiring teacher but I was truly blessed to have had several such teachers in my life.

A recent event made me realize that it is also possible for students to create a memorable and long-lasting impact on their teachers. I was visiting my 90 year old mother and she told me that she had a chance encounter with my old High School History teacher while shopping at the Grocery store. She said he asked her how I was doing and wondered what I had done with my life, mentioning to her that teaching was always gratifying to him when I was in his class.

I was shocked that he even remembered me. A retired teacher in his late eighties, someone who taught thousands of students throughout his career, remembering me fondly for my participation in a class he taught over 40 years ago.

It brought to mind another teacher who was influential in my life; Dr. Leo Hines, a professor of Medieval Literature at the College I attended. Dr Hines introduced me to the great religious thinkers of the middle ages and challenged his students with lectures that made them think about how those philosophies could be applied in our times. Those discussions came at an important time in my life, at a point when I was learning to put away childish things and become a man of substance.

I was surprised to one day find this note from Dr Hines, along with a magazine article, in my College Campus mailbox. The note was another event for me that demonstrated how teachers especially appreciate students who actively participate in the classroom and who are attentive, curious and eager to learn.

Dear Alan,

Your Christian athleticism puts me in mind of an article of mine published in England about the time you were born. It appeared in The Month, July 7, 1962. Hopkins himself published in this periodical in the mid-nineteenth century.

You always guarantee me an intelligent class, for which I am glad, so I reciprocate herewith by giving you an intelligent gloss on your psyche. I was not aware when I wrote it, of course, that that was my intention.

See you in class.

Best always, Dr Hines

My inherent desire to learn about new things has always come naturally and it has been part of my daily practice to search for things that I can do to increase my knowledge.

You will notice that Aristotle’s advice to “Seek moderation in everything, except knowledge, Knowledgefor virtue is found in the mean between extremes” exempts the search of knowledge as the one thing that people can not do to extreme. Anything else can be done to excess, but not learning, because learning is a treasure that will follow its owner everywhere.

Great and interesting things happen when we are curious and seek knowledge. Albert Einstein said  “I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious” and Walt Disney said “When you’re curious you find lots of interesting things to do”.

I hope I continue to remain curious and seek out knowledge to the end. When we learn new things we nurture growth points that bring new possibilities into our lives. So my advice is to go ahead and take that online physics class, read a book on a new subject, learn a new language, immerse yourself in a different culture, watch an educational documentary, visit a museum, start a new hobby, volunteer to help a charitable organization – always seek out knowledge and truth.

If you do, I’m certain your life will become filled with lots of interesting things to do!