The brain machine

The brain machine

The Thinker by Rodin • Photo by Ed Menendez (CC BY-SA 2.0)

Originally published 14 July 1986

It has been less than 50 years since Ernest Lawrence was award­ed the Nobel Prize in physics for his inven­tion of the cyclotron. Lawrence’s first par­ti­cle accel­er­at­ing machine was four inch­es in diam­e­ter and con­struct­ed from win­dow pane, brass plate, and seal­ing wax. It was the sort of thing any clever fel­low could build in his basement.

If you want to do basic par­ti­cle physics today, you will have to come up with $5 bil­lion dol­lars for an accel­er­a­tor with ener­gies 10 mil­lion times high­er than those achieved by Lawrence with his first machines.

Today’s high-ener­gy par­ti­cle physi­cists have their eye on a machine called the Super­con­duct­ing Super Col­lid­er. It will be con­tained in a tun­nel 50 miles in diam­e­ter and will accel­er­ate par­ti­cles to ener­gies of 20 tril­lion elec­tron volts (an elec­tron volt is the amount of ener­gy that could be impart­ed to a pro­ton by a sin­gle flash­light battery).

Obvi­ous­ly, this is not the sort of giz­mo you can build in your base­ment. If you want to work with the Super­con­duct­ing Super Col­lid­er, you will have to make your­self part of that elite group of high-ener­gy par­ti­cle physi­cists who will have exclu­sive access to the machine if and when it is built.

The Super­con­duct­ing Super Col­lid­er is only the most dra­mat­ic exam­ple of the ten­den­cy in sci­ence toward big­ger and more expen­sive instru­men­ta­tion. The day when a Michael Fara­day could dis­cov­er fun­da­men­tal laws of elec­tro­mag­net­ism with only a few coils of wire and a mag­net is past. The day when a rich ama­teur like James Joule could put togeth­er a few pad­dle-wheels and pul­leys and ver­i­fy con­ser­va­tion of ener­gy is gone for­ev­er. Exper­i­men­tal research in almost every field of sci­ence today takes big bucks.

Little genius at disadvantage

A glance at the instru­ment ads in Sci­ence, the week­ly jour­nal of the Amer­i­can Asso­ci­a­tion for the Advance­ment of Sci­ence, tells the story:

Dis­cov­er the pow­er of the ACAS 470.”

Think what you could do now, if you use FPLC.”

The Sor­vall RC-Ultras — A whole new way to save time.”

Final­ly, a ther­mo­spray LC/MS for less than $150,000.”

If you are an aca­d­e­m­ic researcher and you want an ACAS 470, or FPLC, or an RC-Ultra, or an LC/MS, you will need more mon­ey than you are like­ly to get from the col­lege bur­sar. And if you don’t have one on those devices, the researcher next door is going to get the job done first. In sci­ence, pri­or­i­ty is everything.

What all of this means is that there is a real change going on in the way sci­ence is done. Research is increas­ing­ly depen­dent upon gov­ern­ment fund­ing or the promise of a big com­mer­cial pay­off. The inde­pen­dent genius, like Fara­day, Joule, or Lawrence, does­n’t have a chance. Today, a paper in the field of high-ener­gy par­ti­cle physics may have as many a hun­dred co-authors. What any one author con­tributed is any­body’s guess.

Writ­ing in Amer­i­can Sci­en­tist, Philip Abel­son, the co-dis­cov­er­er of the ele­ment Nep­tu­ni­um, sug­gests that the cost of research is dri­ving aca­d­e­m­ic researchers into three camps.

One group forms the teams that use the facil­i­ties of big sci­ence — the accel­er­at­ing machines, the tele­scopes, the super­com­put­ers. They spend con­sid­er­able time away from the cam­pus and have lit­tle con­tact with students.

The sec­ond group includes those who have received grants or con­tracts to do work on cam­pus. They usu­al­ly super­vise a group of grad­u­ate stu­dents or post-doc­tor­al fel­lows, but they spend a sub­stan­tial part of their time man­ag­ing projects, writ­ing reports, and seek­ing grants or grant renewals.

Priorities and glamor

The third group con­sists of those whose grant appli­ca­tions have gone unfund­ed. Often, they are unable to get sup­port from their insti­tu­tions for even mod­est programs.

Some crit­ics believe that the ten­den­cy toward big sci­ence is not nec­es­sary. They con­cede that a Super­con­duct­ing Super Col­lid­er ($5 bil­lion) or a Hub­ble Space Tele­scope ($1.5 bil­lion) is glam­orous, but they main­tain that the mon­ey could be more use­ful­ly spent by sup­port­ing a broad­er range of research on a more mod­est scale. Oth­er sci­en­tists insist that the first pri­or­i­ty is to explore the fron­tiers of knowl­edge, regard­less of the cost.

There are some heart­en­ing trends away from the sci­ence of big bucks. The earth-bound astronomers have learned how to use clever com­put­er-based tech­nolo­gies to build big­ger tele­scopes more cheap­ly than any­one would have thought pos­si­ble only 10 years ago. And big­ger and faster com­put­ers con­tin­ue to get cheap­er and cheaper.

And of course there are always the the­o­reti­cians. Ein­stein could work out the secrets of the uni­verse on the back of an enve­lope. I have a friend, a the­o­reti­cian work­ing on the foun­da­tions of quan­tum mechan­ics, who has been bliss­ful­ly con­tent for 15 years with a pen­cil and a note­book. In sci­ence, the cheap­est and best instru­ment may always be the human brain.

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