Part One

Introduction

In 1973, after about ten years of being a regular academic scientist, I was unhappy, but I did not know why. The following incident made me realize why.

I was at a nuclear physics conference; nuclear physics was the chosen field of research that engaged my heart and soul—or so I thought. I was a speaker at the conference and, when my turn came, I gave what I thought was a good presentation. Nevertheless, I was dissatisfied because I found myself comparing mine with other presentations and feeling jealous. The jealousy continued throughout the day.

In the evening I was at a party; there was lots of free food and booze along with a lot of interesting company, people to impress, etc. But I felt more of the same jealousy. Why were people not paying attention to me—not enough to relieve my jealous feelings, anyway?? This went on until I realized that I had a heartburn that wouldn't quit. I had already finished an entire packet of Tums that I carried in my pocket.

Feeling desperate, I went outside. The conference was taking place at Asilomar Conference Grounds on Monterey Bay in California. Nobody else was outside, it was a bit chilly. Suddenly, a blast of cool sea breeze hit my face. A thought surfaced (where did it come from?): “Why do I live this way?”

Why did I live this way? Paradigm research in practically every field of science consists of a few people defining the problems that require attention and others following their lead and carrying out the details. To belong to that elite group of trendsetters depends on a lot of things. The easy way for an academic is to be a follower and to publish rather than “perish” in the attempt to become a trendsetter. That was what I was doing; I was following with gusto.

Why did I live this way? Most problems of paradigm science are irrelevant to our lives. They are almost as esoteric as the questions that Christian monks in medieval times studied: how many angels can dance on a pin? So my life and my work were completely out of sync.

Why did I live this way? Is physics at all relevant to us today? Nuclear physics is relevant to weapons research, maybe energy research as well, but it is not relevant to much else. In Einstein's time, physics was relevant; in Niels Bohr's time, yes, certainly. Those were times of a paradigm shift that affected not only all of science, but the way we see the world in general.

Why did I live this way? I had academic tenure. There was no reason for me to do unhappy physics. I would find some “happy” physics to do and see.

I had no idea that the decision to pursue my personal happiness in physics would lead to a scientific rediscovery of God. I was a staunch materialist, you see.