cal because it is an ex post facto justification. Almost no one picks their scientific specialty based on the above considerations (a possible exception is the choice between applied and basic research). Fortunately, we pick a field instead because it fascinates us most, and we pick a job within that field because it somehow suits us most. We might almost say that the scientific field chose us, and we obeyed in spite of rational reasons to the contrary.
For the explorers of nature, there are no box seats, no upper-balcony seats. Remember Dedekind’s postulate: every segment of a numeric series, however small, is itself infinite. Similarly, within every scientific field are infinities to be explored.
“And there is no trade or employment but the young man following it may become a hero,
And there is no object so soft but it makes a hub for the wheeled universe.” [Whitman, 1892]
How much of our pecking is, like chickens, a reaction to being pecked? How much is ego massage? How much is our need to have a status commensurate with our years of effort? How much is the desire to give a rational explanation for an emotionally inspired career choice?
The scientist’s banes are egoism and egotism. The scientific pecking order is one manifestation of egoism, the self-centered practice of valuing everything only in proportion to one’s own interest.
Egotism, pride, and self-conceit are enhanced by a combination of peer recognition, the value placed by society on intelligence and technology, and one’s own false sense of the importance of their contributions to science. Egotism is not in proportion to peer recognition. Peer recognition and fame can aggravate egotism, but it need not do so. For example, on receiving the 1925 Gold Medal from the Royal Astronomical Society of London, Albert Einstein’s response was:
“He who finds a thought that lets us penetrate even a little deeper into the eternal mystery of nature has been granted great grace. He who, in addition, experiences the recognition, sympathy, and help of the best minds of his time, has been given almost more happiness than a man can bear.” [Einstein, 1879-1955]
Too often, “he who finds a thought that lets us penetrate even a little deeper into the eternal mystery of nature” thinks that he is hot shit. Perhaps this is the egotistical trap: we fool ourselves into thinking that we are wresting the secrets away from Nature or God and therefore we must be godlike. Campanella, a 17th century Italian philosopher, described man as:
“a second god, the first God’s own miracle, for man commands the depths, mounts to heaven without wings, counts its moving bodies and measures their nature. . . He knows the nature of the stars. . . and determines their laws, like a god. He has given to paper the art of speech, and to brass he has given a tongue to tell time.” [cited by Smith, 1930]
How much of the pride and ego of modern science is a cultural phenomenon? For example, the boasting about mental powers and control stems partly from the Renaissance feeling that humans are master of the earth. Contrast the ancient Greek perspective that wonder is more appropriate than self-conceit, because people can never achieve the ideals revealed by science. Empedocles [5th century B.C.] said:
“And having seen [only] a small portion of life in their experience, they soar and fly off like smoke, swift to their dooms, each one convinced of only that very thing
