Poets always say that scientists cannot see the beauty of the stars—stars are, in the eyes of scientists, merely a mass of gathered gaseous atoms. Nothing is “merely” anything. I can see the stars in the desert night sky, and I can feel them too. But do I see them less than others, or more? The vast sky stirs my imagination—gazing up at this turning dome of heaven, with my small eyes I can catch the light that was emitted a million years ago…… or I can observe these stars through the big eye on Mount Palomar (the telescope), which can gather together the light emitted from the same source in great quantities. Perhaps, in the first place, that light was already together. What kind of image is this, or rather, what does it mean, or why is it so? The little we know about the universe does not diminish its mystery. For the universe is far more wondrous than anything any artist could ever have imagined before. Why don’t poets say this now?
Finally, allow me to explain the main purpose of my teaching this course. My purpose is not to tell you how to get by on examinations, nor even to help you master this knowledge so that you can better serve the industrial or military work you will face in the future. What I most hope for is that you will be able, like real physicists, to appreciate the wonder of this world. The way physicists look at the world, I believe, is the main part of the true cultural content of this modern age. (Perhaps some scientists in other fields will object to what I say, but I believe they are absolutely wrong.) Perhaps what you will learn is not merely how to appreciate this culture, but will even make you willing to take part in the greatest exploration since the birth of human thought.
—Richard Feynman
Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.
Leave a Reply