快猫短视频

THE geneticist Steve Jones once observed that 鈥渟cience is a broad church full of narrow minds, trained to know ever more about even less鈥�. Certainly, many scientists I know seem clueless about developments in fields other than their own. Ask a physicist about prions, and you might end up getting a lecture about subatomic particles rather than proteins, while some biologists seem to think that dark matter is a form of compost.

Given the years of study needed to get on top of any area of science, this is perhaps unsurprising. Yet there are those with minds so agile that they are able to comprehend and even contribute to a host of disciplines. They are known as polymaths 鈥� at least, to their faces. Behind their backs, they can find themselves dismissed as dilettantes.

The academic world has never been comfortable with polymaths, tending to view them as smart alecs who need to be taken down a peg or two. The stunningly versatile Victorian Francis Galton made major contributions to genetics, statistics and psychology, pioneered the use of identical twin studies and discovered the anticyclone. But mention his name in academic circles today, and chances are you鈥檒l only hear about Galton鈥檚 barmy advocacy of eugenics. In our own time, the astrophysicist Fred Hoyle had more cosmic insights than any scientist of his generation, but many still single out his unhappy forays into biology as proof of the perils of being too clever by half.

Fortunately, one of the myriad gifts of the 19th-century English polymath Thomas Young was an understanding of human pettiness. As a student, his intimidating range of talents led him to be labelled 鈥淧henomenon Young鈥� 鈥� and not wholly in admiration. As a physician, Young realised that the charge of dilettantism could ruin his reputation as a 鈥渟erious鈥� practitioner, prompting him to publish much of his work anonymously. But while this helped preserve his medical career, it also obscured the breathtaking power of his intellect.

Happily, in Andrew Robinson he has a biographer who can do justice to his achievements and show why they matter. These included demonstrating the wave-like properties of light, decoding the texts of the Rosetta Stone, unravelling the processes of human vision, classifying human languages, developing the model of elasticity known as Young鈥檚 modulus 鈥� along with a large body of lesser but still impressive work in fields ranging from astronomy to music and even life insurance.

鈥淥ne of his gifts was an understanding of human pettiness鈥�

Despite Young鈥檚 efforts to avoid being labelled a dilettante, he still felt the animus of disgruntled academics. His use of interference effects to show the wave-like properties of light was seen by some physicists as a direct attack on the reputation of Isaac Newton, who had argued that light was formed of particles. Young found himself the subject of personal attacks, and had to wait many years for the recognition he deserved. His pioneering work on translating the Rosetta Stone suffered a similar fate, with the French scholar Jean-Francois Champollion grabbing most of the credit by refusing to acknowledge Young鈥檚 contribution.

Young鈥檚 resilience in the face of such efforts to rob him of credit was truly remarkable. Faced with similar provocations, Newton threw in the towel. Robinson reveals Young to have been made of sterner stuff, always ready to take on his detractors while never descending to their level.

Young emerges from this absorbing biography as an attractive character, motivated more by curiosity than a desire for fame and fortune. But as Robinson points out, Young鈥檚 polymathy came at a price. By his own admission he worked relentlessly and paid scant attention to those closest to him. Though married, he had no children.

This surely has a bearing on why polymaths are so rare. Like geniuses, polymaths can only succeed by putting in the hours (快猫短视频, 16 September, p 40). How many people today would be happy to ignore their family and friends in order to spend more time with their interferometers?