The art of science

I always thought that the old Greeks knew what they were talking about when they lumped their sciences with the arts and put them under the patronage of one deity, Apollo. Although, in Greek mythology, Apollo is considered the god of the arts, archery, and divination, he is most often associated with the cultivated arts of music and medicine. And his role as the leader of the Muses establishes him as a patron of intellectual pursuits.

Since those early days, the arts and sciences seem to have each gone their own way. Many consider the two to be essentially different, not in the least because one is often thought of as serious, a little grey, and weighty, whereas the other is supposedly light, colourful, inspirational, and creative. But are they really that different?

I have had this discussion many times before with friends and colleagues and so far most have disagreed with me. But I am stubborn. My point is that the sciences just like art are creative. The painter has a palette with basic colours and endless hues in between. Any idea or vision is given shape and texture on a canvas. And then it’s art, either good or bad. The musician has a choice of instruments, basic keys to follow and a few blue notes to chose from. Give it some rhythm and there will be art.

So what about the scientist. Our palette is every written or otherwise recorded thought and all available data. Our brush is a range of methods that lead through hypothesis to tests and conclusions. And our canvas is a few pieces of paper with which we can reach our audiences.

The creativity lies in the use of a mental razor with which we cut up old believes and ideas. Throw in some data, old and new, and hopefully we end up with a new insight that is bigger and more meaningful than the sum of the individual parts. When I get to that point, I feel very creative, I am very happy and then I move on to the next project.

Fellow researchers as well as artists have argued with me that the scientists are hampered by their scientific method, whereas artists are free. I am not so sure. I believe that scientists like Darwin or Einstein were great, not because they followed the scientific method, but because they were able to make huge leaps of imagination, and formalize these through a process of scientific analysis and reporting. Whatever they did and however they did it, in the end they created beauty.

My scientific ambitions are not quite in the league of the illustrious duo above. But under the guidance of Apollo and his muses I certainly see a role for myself and other scientists in TNC to create some clarity in murky conservation waters. And whilst at it, in a good mood, and on a role, I feel as much an artist as any self respecting painter, sculptor, poet, singer, and dancer. I might even be cheerful about it.