As a boy, Oliver Sacks
loved chemistry. Though later known as a neurologist, Dr. Sacks was captivated
by a different science as a child. In his book Uncle Tungsten, he reflects on his “chemical boyhood”: his early passion
for understanding the world and its history in chemical terms.
Dr. Sacks, born in
London in 1933, describes his enchantment in learning not only contemporary
chemistry, but also its history. By the time he was delving into chemical
handbooks, just after the second World War, much of the information in his
shabby, older volumes, and many of the beliefs of the chemists he admired, were
wrong.
The ancients’
concept of four all-encompassing “elements”—fire, water, earth, and air—had
long since been left behind. Likewise, the three elements of the alchemists—sulfur,
mercury, and salt—had come and gone. Robert Boyle had bravely put forth his radical,
rational definition of an element—indivisible and pure—and Antoine Lavoisier had
combatted the lingering alchemical notion of phlogiston, the “principle of
fire,” with his experiments in oxidation. So why were these disproven theories
and scientific blunders of such interest to the young Oliver Sacks?
Sacks points out
that the “path to his [Lavoisier’s] revolution was not easy or direct…it
required fifteen years of genius time, fighting his way through labyrinths of
presupposition, fighting his own blindness as he fought everyone else’s.” This
description of that journey, I believe, highlights an important underlying reason for Sacks’ interest in chemistry, and provides insight into why we are so fascinated
by our own particular interests as well.
Sacks enjoyed
chemistry because for him, the science was alive. He could trace its convoluted
path from its distant, misguided beginnings. He could follow the mistakes, wonder,
and bewilderment woven into that long and far from linear history.
Our interests are
often shaped by stories. What we appreciate is linked to our exploration of its
roots and origins. One NPR podcast episode,
titled Why Do We Like What We Like? addresses
this phenomenon.
Dr. Paul Bloom, a
professor of psychology at Yale University interviewed for the episode, notes
that “…you can enhance your pleasure simply by learning more about something…where
it comes from, how it works. Music will sound different the more you understand
the music…”
Dr. Bloom further
points out that there are neural systems related to attachment. Someone’s brain
may be activated very differently by two seemingly identical pairs of baby
shoes if one pair is known to have belonged to that person’s child.
Likewise, I
believe, as Dr. Sacks did, that chemistry is experienced differently when the
stories are introduced. The Periodic Table gains dimension when the struggles
of Dmitri Mendeleev are uncovered. The discovery that hydrogen and oxygen, when
exploded together, create water, is made all the more intriguing in the
characterization of its discoverer, Henry Cavendish, who, it has been suggested,
may have been diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder were he alive today.
Dr. Bloom
concludes that the opportunity to learn the stories behind our world “opens us
up to get far more pleasure out of life than we could have possibly had
otherwise.” From music to science to one another, context, development, and
history are worth exploring.
—Kate Oksas
Sources
Sacks, Oliver. Uncle Tungsten: Memories of a Chemical Boyhood. New York: Alfred A.
Knopf, 2001. Print.
NPR Science
Friday podcast, July 23, 2010. http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=128721732
