Turing Chapters 7 & 8

       In reading The Enigma, I have tried to relate Alan Turing and the virtues of a scientist as much as possible.  I have looked for traits in Turing that resonate with those of an exemplary scientist, and I can definitely see some characteristics that we have seen in Einstein/McClintock/Feynman.  Turing's ability to collaborate, for example, fits the list of virtues that we saw in class.  Yet, Turing's curiosity seems to stem from something other than a pure wonder at nature and its processes.  In chapter 7, Hodges comments, "The prehistoric paintings rather suited Alan, who always wanted to draw nature from scratch himself" (p. 396).  This seems almost opposite to what a scientist would want, and it hints more at Turing's mathematical mindset than his scientific mindset.  In fact, an exemplary scientist has a passion to figure out the laws of nature, and to establish new knowledge about nature.  In the least, Turing's biography has served to show how practices outside of science can adapt the scientific virtues in order to achieve their own telos.
      The boy-man dichotomy that made up Turing's personality throughout his life may at first seem like a defect.  However, it is this wavering between what Hodges calls "forcefulness and naivete" that may have been beneficial in Turing's professional life.  As a class, we have discussed how both confidence and a childish disposition can be traits of an exemplary scientist.  For Turing, it is his confidence in his knowledge that allowed him to push ideas in spite of his struggles, and it is his childlike nature that fueled his passion for his work.  Even for a mathematician, these qualities can be highly valuable.

Turing Ch. 5 and 6

As with all of the scientists we have studied in LB492, Alan Turing's personality, as Hodges describes it, is as unique as they come.  In discussing Feynman, I started to really value the idea of charisma for a scientist.  I began to see how powerful sharing the narrative of an exemplary scientist could be.  I have tried to see this trait in Turing, but I think it is lost amidst his introversion. Yet, Turing is most definitely an exemplary scientist (or probably more-so a mathematician*).  The part that stands out in spite of his seemingly timid personality is his full commitment to the other virtues.  Turing was an excellent collaborator, his curiosity was undeniable, and he improved his communication skills as he grew older. The recurring theme with each of these scientists is once again seen in Turing's story: An exemplary scientist can compensate for a lack of one virtue, given that it is not vital, by excelling in the other virtues.  Curiosity seems to be an exception, as each of the studied scientists, including Turing, seem to possess an innate wonder and passion for science.  In fact, it is this curiosity that seems to bring out the scientist in Turing.  His work may involve complex mathematics, but his wonder for the world is powerful.

Turing Ch. 3-4, Bridge Passage

      While Turing's connection to the war as a scientist may not be a completely new subject (see: Feyman and Einstein), it certainly is a unique one.  While our previous scientists have had some significant roles in the development of wartime technology, Turing's work with the Enigma and deciphering code was directly related to the Allies chance at winning the war.  The importance of this is that, situationally, we can look at what virtues were beneficial to Turing as a scientist involved in war.  The first virtue that comes to mind after reading these chapters is Turing's patience and perseverance.  With the German's altering the Enigma several times during the war, it took incredible perseverance to continue the work when all previous work was rendered useless.  Turing also collaborated often, including his work at Hut 8 with others, accepting ideas for his Bombe, and serving as a liaison to America.  Turing's focus on the subject at hand was also intense, shown by a comment from an associate at Bell Labs about how Turing could not even give his mind time to give the conventional "hello!" in the lab hallways.  Turing's restlessness also helped.  In times when the capture of a German U-boat was necessary for the cipher work at Hut 8 to continue, Turing did not remain idle.  Instead, he continued to find ways to exploit the full potential of the existing Bombes.  All of these qualities were both beneficial and necessary for Turing to succeed as a scientist at this time.
    At first, I though it would be impossible to speak of Turing without mentioning the impact of his sexuality.  Yet, Hodges only mentions Turing's sexuality a few times during the chapters on the World War.  When Hodges does mention this, it seems to be disconnected from Turing's professional work.  Turing may have been a gay, atheist scientist.  In the end, though, only the latter part of that title really matters in a discussion of his scientific virtues.

Alan Turing: Chapters 1 & 2

      In After Virtue, McIntyre describes how, in today's society, friendships are referred to as simply a particular affection between individuals.  Aristotle views this type of friendship as trivial, and places above it a type of friendship that involves a mutual pursuit of knowledge (a common good).  Turing's relationship with Christopher Morcom fits this Aristotelian version well.  Morcom was more so an educational/scientific counterpart to Alan, sharing discoveries and conclusions.  Friendships like these seem to be a necessary stimulation of Turing's passion for science as a young man.  Andrew Hodges even mentions that this relationship was deeper than a simple liking for one another, and that as a result of Morcom's early death, Turing had felt as if "he had surrendered half his mind, only to have it drop into a void" (Hodges p. 46).  Turing had an understanding of this Aristotelian friendship, and he was able to indulge in it at an early age.
      It is also important to note that although we have produced a somewhat specific definition of science, or at least the telos of a scientist, many things fit this definition.  Science, according to LB492, is the pursuit of new knowledge of the world through reproducible, verifiable methods.  While Turing's work may seem purely mathematical, Hodges makes certain to disband such a belief.  Hodges notes that Turing's Computable Numbers was not a product of scientific method, it did involve a process of "doubting the axioms rather than measuring effects" (Hodges p. 107).  Turing uses the skepticism that is a vital virtue to the scientist.  His doubt of the accepted concepts allowed him to seek out new truths about math, which could in turn be applied to the world.  In this sense, Turing bypasses scientific method, but he contributes his ideas in understandable, verifiable ways.  He is doing science.

Feynman Part 5

      It's not completely shocking for Feynman to say "I wanted to convey an emotion I have about the beauty of the world."  We can see, through his extravagant story-telling and friendly disposition, an unmistakable passion for not only science, but for life in general.  In terms of the exemplary scientist, I think this quality is one that can be seen as a relevant virtue.  In the least, it cannot hurt.  A passion for life seems to precede a passion for science.  Our exemplary scientists are curious about science because they are curious about the world.  They respect its beauty, and they search for explanations that define such amazing natural laws.  Feynman just so happens to say it to us directly.

      Ironically, Feynman's efforts at learning to draw contain some valuable points about how science should be taught.  By juxtaposing the virtues of science with the virtues of art, Feynman is able to explain some crossover between the two.  As someone studying chemistry, I am all too familiar with learning strict methods and techniques in my classes.   Yet, Feynman stresses that these are not the only valuable concepts, and that the "spirit" to apply such methods must be taught.  Feynman's ability to draw virtue from other practices and apply it to his own life is remarkable.  Our discussion on how virtues are dependent on the particular situation reminds me how valuable this talent can be.  Feynman could interpret virtuous action in one situation and examine how such a virtue would work in science.  An exemplary scientist should strive to see how science could always be improved in this way.

Feynman Parts 1-3

    Feynman's childlike interjections, prevalent in his description of his childhood, are especially powerful.  These interjections are just the basis of the point I would like to make, though.  Feyman's remarks that certain concepts were "sensational" or "great" seem to follow him beyond simply his childhood.  His passion for science is obvious and believable.  Feyman's autobiography is written in an engaging, conversational tone.  We finally have a scientist that seems like he's talking to/for us! And he's good at it, too.
       Although it seems cryptic, I think Feynman has a fairly specific point that he makes in his opening chapters.  With his experiences, from impressing a man by fixing a radio to annoying his coworkers at a hotel, Feyman is sharing with us an odd and undesirable characteristic that many humans have: We give up. Feyman's ability to think through problems, without taking constant action, seems to be one of his best qualities as a scientist.  And yet, people in his life are sometimes astounded by this quality and sometimes ignorant of its worth.  This "every problem has a solution" is the driving force behind Feyman's passion for science.  On the other hand, these struggles help Feyman realize the difficulty in innovation.  As a scientist, does your work truly help if it cannot be understood by others?  I see a glimpse of McClintock in this question.   Feyman's belief that some people can learn, but not apply learned material, is interesting.  Maybe the difficulty in innovation is not in the explanation of concepts, but in the inability of some to apply knowledge to practical situations.

Einstein Ch. 25 & Epilogue

      The more Isaacson mentions Einstein's unrelenting pursuit of a unified field theory, the more I begin to believe that Einstein's stubbornness was a scientific vice in his later years.  Isaacson obviously emphasizes Einstein's commitment to this project that never come to fruition.  It seems that the mind of a genius was solely committed to the formation of complex sets of equations and ideas that ultimately could not challenge quantum theory.  I think a large problem with research in our age now reflects this dedication to an idea with no empirical basis.  Sometimes researchers have an idea of what results would be popular/profitable and instead of unbiased observation, the scientific method is ignored and particular results are pursued.  Michio Kaku's edition of The Best American Science Writing 2012 includes an article written on a study of red wine and the effect on aging.  The purpose of the article is to highlight when science falls victim to vice. Researchers thought they had found a reversing effect on aging in red wine, and despite the fact that the results could not be reproduced and verified by other researchers, the "sexy" idea of wine being good for human health hit the public sooner that it should have.  The problem here is that the public has an affinity to these types of ideas, and other research that discourages it never reaches a public sphere.  Even today, red wines effect on aging lingers in mainstream beauty magazines and websites.  This greed is in no way a virtuous quality of a scientist, as it is a prime example of Macintyre's external good.