That's a good question

I listen to a lot of podcasts and many of them are on science. Science Talk by Scientific American, Science Magazine, Science at NASA, Science Friday by NPR, the Nature podcast, and the Naked Scientist, to name a few.

I like the way scientists talk to each other. I find that they are usually very respectful to each other, which is something I enjoy. They love turning a subject over and inside out and looking at it from all angles. They are very patient when people call in with questions, because at least when the questions aren't that great, they are an opportunity to teach and to explain how they themselves followed a line of thinking to get to the point they arrived. When the questions are really good, they almost always say "That's a good question."

When I noticed that this was a very common response, I was a little irritated by it. It sounded so patronizing. Sometimes it sounded derogatory, like they were patting the questioner on the head. Other times it sounded like a habitual dodge, a way to buy a few seconds while thinking of a response.

Then I started to realize what it meant. Sometimes it meant, "Oh yes, that direction of thought leads to many new and exciting or unexpected things." Other times it means, "that line of thought never occurred to me." The whole root of scientific discovery is asking the right questions. Sometimes asking questions means challenging preconceptions. Sometimes it means looking in new directions. It doesn't matter what the point of the question is, it's always an opportunity to turn the object of inspection over and look at it from a new angle, which is the best way to learn something new from it. Scientists welcome questions for the most part. They love being challenged and fleshing out ideas through rigorous inquiry.

Many people don't consider what scientific thinking is all about. If they did, I think they would practice it more, because it is fun. Imagine you go to an old mansion with tons of rooms. Let's say the place was abandoned fully furnished, with nothing disturbed. I'm imagining an enormous building with dozens of rooms, long corridors lined with doors. Can you imagine exploring such a place? Particularly if you found something of great value, say a drawer full of jewelry. Scientific discovery is like that. It's an awareness that there is a vast area of information that is just waiting to be uncovered. It's the thrill of the mystery - "What's behind this door?" And frankly, it's the search for treasure.

Most fields of knowledge are not straightforward. They have many facets and are continually branching out into multiple possibilities. I often wonder when I read about the history of scientific discovery if there aren't very interesting lines of investigation that were missed as we moved forward, waiting to be rediscovered. A science fiction short story I read a long time ago was about an alternate reality where science and magic were both developed into full fledged and useful applications. When I learned about Witta and Druidism years ago, I wondered if they were not on the verge of developing a society in touch with nature, and in some ways better able to take advantage of it. We still suspect that the ancient Egyptians and Aztecs were onto things that we have since forgotten. The Incas were able to fit enormous stoneworks together without mortar, a feat we still cannot repeat. Did someone know the secret of antigravity?

There is a theory in quantum physics called the multiverse model. It supposes that each instant of time has an infinite number of possibilities that can branch from it. Should you go to breakfast or go for a run? Will you turn right at the corner or go straight? Are you going to execute some random move in the middle of your day or suddenly blurt out something in the office with little thought or care? Any little decision can lead to a completely different outcome in your day. In the multiverse theory, every alternate possibility does happen. The universe is constantly cleaving into alternate universes where you did turn right, go straight, and all the other options, like suddenly jumping on your left foot and singing opera. Scientific discovery is kind of like that. The possibilities are endless, so you just keep following those branching corridors until you find something interesting. Then you do it again. There's no limit to the search. What else are you going to do with your life?