It was probably 1990 or 91, while I was a lecturer at Glasgow University, Scotland; when I first met Graham Cairns-Smith.
At that time he was a Reader in Physical Chemistry, and I interviewed him for an article that (I think) was published in the Glasgow Herald newspaper.
That interview led to further discussions; because I realized quickly that GCS was not just a real scientist (truth-seeker, truth-speaker) - I had already met several of these - but a creative scientist; one who original in a genius way, and orientated towards developing new and true theories; rather than doing ever-more (and more expensive!) experiments.
What jumped-out was the way he talked, the quietly sustained focus, that he went back to first principles, talked about theories; and the extreme clarity and simplicity with which he expressed his thinking.
He very quickly explained his Big Idea, which was related to the origins of life on earth having have occurred via the replication of simple molecules, probably siliceous, possibly clays -- necessarily much simpler than the usual candidates of nucleic acids or proteins - which he ruled-out on chemical energetic grounds and the vastly improbable complexity required for their production.
His ideas were accessibly published for a general audience in Seven Clues to the Origin of Life (1990) - and became widely influential, albeit often in somewhat garbled form - even in mainstream science fiction.
(Those many silicon-, instead of carbon-, based aliens mentioned in various media, might well be derived ultimately from GCS.)
The way Graham discussed natural selection made me realize that I had never previously encountered anyone with his level of understanding; and with just a few deep insights - he made me begin to realize my own fascination with the subject; and set me onto the path whereby I worked on evolutionary theories for more than decade - worked with greater intensity and mental effort than I ever worked at anything else.
Graham's quality was recognized at a high level among other real scientists, and he would (for instance) participate in meetings, symposia, lectures etc. where nearly-all the other people were Nobel laureates.
And/yet this status was not matched in terns of career, which was very modest.
GCS was apparently almost obscure within Glasgow University. He rose to Reader but not Professor. He was a Fellow of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, but not of the (then) much more selective London RS.
Many thousands of industrious but mediocre researchers garnered more elevated positions, greater system prestige, and achievement-awards - over his head, and those like him.
This, because GCS was quiet, modest, and interested in "the science".
I should make it clear: Graham was not at all bothered about promotions or prizes! -He was very happy with what he had.
All that he asked for, was to be able to do the scientific work he was motivated to do. Anything else in the way of rewards was a bonus, a gratuity: nice, but inessential.
And - because GDS retired before things got too bad around 2000, he was just able to have that minimum needful support from the UK university system.
By the 1990s there was already a wide and increasing gulf between achievement in real science, and the system of rewards accorded to professional researchers in the bureaucracies that had once been genuinely scientific.
Going into the next millennium; it soon became evident that real science was dead and gone; and internally-motivated, creative people like Cairns-Smith could not longer expect even his moderate and delayed success; but had near-zero realistic career prospects of any kind within professional "science".
I didn't know Graham well, and not at all on personal level. But his example made a decisive difference to my life and work.
Also the fact that he recognized me to the extent of asking me to review and comment on the developing texts of his subsequent works, was a great confidence-booster, indicating that he believed that I too inhabited the same world of "real" scientists.
Yesterday, in sorting through my library, I came across the copy of Evolving the Mind (1996) that he had sent me; and read the hand-written inscription thanking me for help with it.
I then belatedly realized that a personal tribute of thanks to this creative, brilliant, honest and significant scientist - had become long overdue.
4 comments:
Thank your for this interesting portrait.
From the 'Herald Obituary':
'his ideas of evolution did not attract the necessary funding to enter mainstream science'
What an odd thing to say!
@C - I think (from internal evidence) that the Herald obituary was probably written by a non-scientist - certainly the main emphasis is on other stuff.
But I recall that GCS did mention that he had tried and failed to get funding to test whether clays might be able to develop in response to natural selection - he believed this could be demonstrated empirically, but he did not had the chance.
(By the time GCS was seeking funding for this, it had become nigh impossible for most people to pursue theory-driven research of this kind - funding was almost wholly "sewn-up" by currently-fashionable subjects with large numbers or workers in the field, available money had condensed into relatively few massive grants to fund huge teams. Getting modest funding for one person to test a really good idea had become a thing of the past.)
This may (I'm not sure) have been related to his move to work on brain evolution - because he had done as much as could be done on the origins of life stuff, without moving towards experimental/ observational work.
I don't know whether anybody else has tried, but I don't suppose others would have understood what needed to be done as well as Graham would have.
That was an interesting post.
"What jumped-out was the way he talked, the quietly sustained focus, that he went back to first principles, talked about theories; and the extreme clarity and simplicity with which he expressed his thinking."
It sounds like he was thinking about these things all the time.
It is both easier and harder to make a contribution to a technical field than is generally supposed. Easier because you don't have to be smarter than everyone else, or have everyone else be dumb compared to you (despite how many seem to think that). But harder because you have to notice something no one else has noticed (or no one else has followed up on) and that takes much more work and creativity than is often realized.
@NLR - "both easier and harder to make a contribution to a technical field than is generally supposed"
difference is often thinking-about something consecutively for more than a couple of minutes at a time! This is very rare indeed.
I met many professional scientists who (so far as I could judge) never thought about their subject, what it meant, the actual bit of reality they were researching, in a sustained way - Never.
...They would think about their experiments, or observations - how to improve them, how to arrange them; they would think about publications, grants, conferences etc.
But actually to grapple with the assumptions and implications of their experiments/ observations - not at all, and very resistant to it!
Much of noticing happens because of genuine and sustained interest - "chance favours the prepared mind" - prepared meaning partly relevant information, but also sustained interest.
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