Most of them have no formal scientific training. Often scorned by professionals, they endure a constant battle to find funding. Yet amateur scientists continue to make a significant contribution in just about every field. Caroline Williams asked three of the most successful about their work: Forrest Mims III, who has taught NASA a thing or two about ozone monitoring, Jerry MacDonald, discoverer of some of the most important Palaeozoic fossils ever found, and Pierre Morvan, a world expert on ground beetles. They all share a passion for exploration, an unusual route to academia – and the need for a day job.
Forrest Mims III
Forrest Mims III set up a network to monitor ultraviolet radiation and ozone levels, first in his home state of Texas and then across the world, using a hand-held device he invented himself. He also proved that NASA’s ozone-monitoring satellite was giving false readings, after which NASA and other climate scientists started taking him more seriously. Most recently, he has been looking at the effects of smoke, dust and haze on sunlight and ecology. He makes a living writing books about science, lasers, computers and electronics.
Jerry MacDonald
In the late 1980s, Jerry MacDonald uncovered some of the earliest known fossil footprints in the mountains of New Mexico. The animals that made the tracks lived over 280 million years ago, before the dinosaurs. Working alone in searing heat in the New Mexico desert he hauled many tonnes of rock down the mountains over the course of several years, only to be laughed at by professional palaeontologists who took them to be fakes. They were eventually recognised as some of the most important Palaeozoic fossils ever found.
Advertisement
Pierre Morvan
Pierre Morvan has always had a passion for beetles. Since the late 1960s he has made trips to the Caucasus, Iran, Bhutan, Nepal and Tibet – all financed by his job as a taxi driver – and collected thousands of specimens, many of them new to science. He has described more than 300 new species and found a way to distinguish the genus Batenus from other genera of ground beetles by tiny markings on their heads, something that had eluded science for years. He lives in Brittany, France. (Additional reporting and translation by Audrey Janvier.)
Forrest Mims III
Your hand-held ozone monitor became a crucial tool in monitoring stratospheric ozone levels, which protect life on the Earth’s surface from damaging ultraviolet radiation. How did you come to invent it?
I became interested in measuring levels of UV radiation when I learned that the US government had closed down its UV-monitoring network in the late 1980s. I then realised that you could measure the ozone layer by looking at UV light at two different wavelengths where it is absorbed by the ozone. So I built some ultraviolet detectors at home and in 1990 I began making daily measurements. I now have almost 16 years’ worth of data and I have published many scientific papers about my findings.
What happened when you discovered that NASA’s satellite measurements of the ozone layer were out?
The satellite measurements began to diverge from my data in 1991. NASA said, maybe you’ve got an aerosol error or maybe your instrument has got a problem. I visited Mauna Loa observatory in Hawaii, which houses the world-standard ozone instrument, four times, and guess what, it was also seeing a difference compared with the satellite. Later NASA said they had made an error. The satellite was drifting out of orbit. At that stage they agreed to write a paper with me, although they later pulled out. The management weren’t too keen. But that was my first paper in Nature.
How does an amateur get through the peer-review process?
Sometimes there is resistance to publishing my papers, but most of them have been published. Now I peer-review papers for scientific journals and I’ve peer-reviewed two-dozen books for scientific publishers. On a number of occasions professional scientists have taken me aside and asked me how to get published in Nature. Only once or twice in my career has somebody been rude or resentful that I didn’t go through the process they did.
Why do you think amateurs like yourself make such an important contribution to science?
I once asked the famous Canadian ozone scientist James Kerr, “Why is it that Canada does so much better at measuring ground-level ozone than the US?” He had a very simple answer: we can’t afford satellites. That made my day. That is why an amateur scientist can do science just as well as anyone else: we can’t afford the tools of the professionals so we have to do the very best we can with the tools we have.
With a passion for science, why did you study government at university?
I wanted to major in physics but after I took algebra in my first year I realised I would never make it – my mathematical abilities were not there. Nevertheless I was spending all my spare time building electronic devices. It’s one reason why my grades at college weren’t that good. I was building circuit boards with integrated circuits and transistors and the latest light-emitting diodes. My great-grandfather was blind, and this inspired me to build electronic travel aids for the blind that would bounce a beam of infrared radiation against objects such as walls and other people and notify the blind person by a musical tone.
Jerry MacDonald
How did you become interested in palaeontology?
I like dead things and old things. I think it’s partly because my dad was in the military so most of the places we lived were desolate and not very inviting to most people but very fascinating to me. The attitude of a child has remained with me. If something interests me, I explore it.
After getting your geology degree you became a sociologist – why?
One of my wife’s sociology professors suggested it. It was the smartest thing I did. I learned to understand how a discovery is made, the stages involved in discovery, the impact that discoveries make on the individual psyche, and what reaction it produces in scientists. It helped me when I made my discovery.
Tell me about the discovery.
I discovered my Palaeozoic trackways in the New Mexico mountains during the summer I was moving to Virginia to start a PhD in sociology. It was the scariest year of my life because no one knew what I had discovered and I was just hoping no one else found it. I knew it was significant and my mind just would not release it until I had exhausted it fully. So I gave up my PhD and moved back to New Mexico.
How did you make a living?
At first we lived on my wife’s student loans. It was really rough financially, but if I see something important I don’t think about asking someone else to give me money to exploit it. If I have the resources, within reason, I will spend my own money to do it.
What were the advantages of being an amateur?
The Robledo mountains are a nightmare geologically – there are fault lines, the beds are all broken up and turned sideways. You’d look at that and say there is no way that continuous tracks could survive. So nobody did it. There had never been a major excavation. I didn’t know any of that stuff. So I started digging.
How did it feel when you found them?
I was the first human being to see those footprints and that was a rush like I could never get anywhere else. It communicated life to me; skeletons communicate death. When I pulled out the first slab, which weighed 150 pounds [68 kilograms], there was a cast of five beautiful pelycosaur tracks. It was amazing. With five tracks you can do a number of geometric equations, you can determine pace, the orientation of gait, the speed.
Are you still looking for fossils?
Because of health problems I’m not doing fieldwork anymore. My joint problems are those of a man who worked in a stone quarry for 10 years. I moved about 60 tonnes of rock and carried out 20 tonnes of trackway slabs. I would strap them onto my back. I looked like I’d been whipped.
Was it worth it?
Absolutely. To see the tracks displayed and to see really solid trained scientists stunned over it, it’s wonderful. One of the foremost experts on Palaeozoic trackways just sat down and cried. He said, “I knew in my heart there had to be a place like this somewhere in the world, and you found it.” That brings tremendous enjoyment to me.
Pierre Morvan
Your hobby is quite unusual.
Yes and no. When I was 7 years old I wanted to be an explorer. I wanted to go to the Himalayas. I had already started collecting insects. I preferred skipping school than learning in the classroom. I learned plenty of things that other people in the countryside didn’t know.
With such a passion for nature, why did you become a taxi driver?
I studied horticulture for a while, but then circumstances changed and I had to get a job. My mother had three children and couldn’t provide for everyone. I started work in the hotel business. I used to go on about my ambition to travel to the Himalayas and I went away on research trips until my boss had had enough. So I became a taxi driver. It was on my terms, and that way I could go away whenever I wanted.
Where did you go?
At the time I was interested that in the Pyrenees there is a ground beetle that you also find in the Caucasus Mountains. I wondered why it was found in these two places and nowhere else. I travelled to the Caucasus region in 1968. The French National Museum of Natural History in Paris was amazed. They said, “How did you do that? We’ve been trying to send an expedition for 17 years and they always say no.”
Do you think being an amateur helped you organise your expeditions?
No, I just think that I have a spirit of adventure that others don’t have. At that time Europeans didn’t leave Europe. If you want to find new things – and looking for insects is a bit like a treasure hunt – you have to go into the unknown. There is a beautiful Breton phrase, andavanon caravanon, which means “the unknown consumes me”. It was true for the early ocean explorers and it’s also true for scientists.
Your biggest discoveries came from the Himalayas. When did you go there?
I finally got to go in 1971. When I told the museum in Paris they said, “You’ll be wasting your time because it’s barren, there is no life.” In 1971 we knew of about 30 species of ground beetles from the region but knew very little about them. I have now described 200 species in Nepal alone, and around 20 genera and a new family. We now know of some 4000 to 4500 species from the region. And there are many more species to be discovered.
Is it difficult funding your work?
Yes. When you’re not professional you have to find the money yourself. I need access to the specimens in the museum in Paris and the British Museum – they have collections that date back a century and more. I live in Brittany and getting to Paris or London is expensive. Fortunately I won the Rolex Award for Enterprise in 1987. If I hadn’t won the prize I would have to reduce my expeditions. I got a Rolex watch with my award and I’m trying to sell it. I am 70 years old and I live in the country so to go around with a Rolex doesn’t make much sense. I’d rather have the money so I can continue my expeditions.