TRUE GENIUS

Also by Lillian Hoddeson:

Crystal Fire: The Invention of the Transistor and the Birth of the Information Age (with Michael Riordan)

The idea of writing a biography of John Bardeen emerged at the University of Illinois in the weeks after Bardeen’s sudden death in January 1991. Physicists there were seeking ways to preserve the legacy of their most famous and well-loved colleague. One of us, Lillian, an historian of physics, was encouraged to conduct oral history interviews and write a biography of Bardeen. It was an honor that turned into a labor of love.

Within a few months, Vicki joined Lillian in the effort. She was the first of about a dozen history graduate students who would help with the research. She however stayed with the project throughout its duration, even after completing her doctorate in 2000. As the chapters slowly came into existence and passed repeatedly between us, the individual marks of authorship faded and the work became a true collaboration. Our coauthorship developed in ways we could not have anticipated in 1991.

The original plan called for a scholarly biography focused on scientific contributions. Given the intricacy of Bardeen’s physics, we often questioned whether we were the right historians for this formidable task. Seven years into the writing we received a surprising confirmation. Vicki came upon a letter in the Bardeen papers from a Mr. Jefferson Bushman. Writing in May 1989, Bushman asked Bardeen to cooperate with him in writing Bardeen’s biography. Bardeen declined, politely: “While there are no present plans

for writing a biography, I expect that when I have time to do some work on it, it will be done by Lillian Hoddeson.” We burst into laughter. Characteristically, Bardeen told no one of his plan.

We were gratified but also saddened by the loss of a great opportunity. Our work would have benefitted immensely had we had more of Bardeen’s own reflections on his life and science. He would probably have guided us through his massive body of contributions to physics. In the end we could treat only a small part of his physics, leaving the rest for future historians to address. We are painfully aware that this book merely scratches the surface of its subject.

We would like to have known what role Bardeen wanted his biography to play. We are quite sure he would have wished it would contribute to the history of physics, an area in which he had a strong interest in his later years. We believe that he would have enjoyed reaching a popular audience, including nonscientists, for he cared about society and education, especially education of the young.

He is likely to have winced, at least initially, at this biography’s secondary goal, to shed light on the meaning of true scientific genius. This particular objective emerged late in our work. In drafting the introduction, we found ourselves grappling with a question raised some years earlier in the popular press by the writer Iris Chang: Why is the first person ever to win two Nobel prizes in the same field a “John Who?” to the general public? We concluded that he is unknown largely because he did not fit the popular image of a great scientist. We present our views on this issue in the first and last chapters.

Our efforts to understand the myth of genius and to characterize Bardeen’s very different profile opened a Pandora’s box of literature on genius and creativity dating back hundreds of years. It was unnerving to survey the as yet unwritten history of genius and discover the roots of the popular myth of genius, perhaps most effectively expressed by the nineteenth-century Romantic writer Mary Shelley in her classic novel Frankenstein. The charismatic Dr. Frankenstein, the unbalanced scientist whose talents are innate and who works in isolation on otherworldly problems, is the prototype of a figure who remains vital even today, and against whom Bardeen appears rather bland. It was no surprise to learn that Chang’s earlier suggestion of writing a biography of Bardeen had encountered

the reaction that he was too ordinary to interest a wide body of readers. We disagree. Bardeen’s life offers insights for everyone.

We also believe it is important to inform the widest possible audience about the distinction between true genius and its popular myth. Confusing the two notions can damage the motivation of young people whose creativity holds the promise of great future achievement. Those young people, and all those who mentor and support them, need to understand what really fuels creative work. Bardeen’s story can help make this clear. Because Bardeen related easily and genuinely to children on their own terms, we suspect that he would have come to endorse our secondary goal.