Its present incarnation is the KISS principle – keep it small and simple. Simple thought models should therefore be given precedence over complex ones, and hypotheses should not be cluttered with unneeded detail. But what does all of this have to do with a razor? It’s a simple metaphor: choose the simplest explanation, and shave off the rest. Today, Occam’s Razor is one of the fundamental principles of scientific methodology. Its practical application can best be seen in a simple example often used for illustration:
After a storm, an observer comes across a fallen tree. Based on the evidence of “a storm” and “a fallen tree”, a reasonable hypothesis would be “a strong wind blew the tree over”. This hypothesis requires only one assumption – that it was, in fact, a strong wind (as opposed to a meteorite or an elephant) that knocked over the tree. The alternative hypothesis that “the tree was knocked over by 200-meter-tall, marauding space aliens” would require several additional assumptions concerning the very existence of aliens, their ability and will to travel interstellar distances, the viability of 200-meter-tall extraterrestrial beings in terrestrial gravity, and so on.
This fundamental concept of scientific work is used in physics and all other natural sciences. However, theory and experimentation have not always been the two pillars of scientific methodology. Galileo (1564–1642) is considered to be the first to have recognized the symbiotic nature of these two aspects of scientific work and applied them consistently. With him, the modern scientific approach of seeking to confirm laws of nature through experimentation and observation took shape in the Age of Enlightenment (18th century). This crucial development provided the foundation for the essential steps of rational research still used today:
Without such rules, great 20th-century advances in physics such as the theory of relativity or quantum theory may never have been realized, as both of those theories contradict what “common sense” would be prepared to accept. To this very day, people not familiar with the scientific method have great difficulties comprehending them. The symbiosis of theory and experimentation thus paved the way for science to explore truly unknown terrain beyond the limits of human imagination.
Without such fundamental insights arising from the unceasing dedication of optical researchers, manufacturers of precision optical systems would not have been able to advance the German optical industry to its current world leadership. Our deep insights into the structures and properties of materials and the smallest building blocks of life, via optical and confocal laser microscopy and a variety of image analysis systems, rely on a physical phenomenon that we still do not fully understand – light. Light can be defined as the visible part of the electromagnetic spectrum, with wavelengths ranging from around 380 to 780nm. It is characterized by its wavelength (color), the associated frequency, and properties such as coherence and polarization. With both wave and particle properties and a speed that plays a decisive role in the theory of relativity, light is the stuff of scientific dreams. Without light, there would be no E = mc2. Without light, there would be no Planck’s Constant. Without light, we would have no awareness of the inner workings of life; Living up to Life would be an impossibility.
A more common version, also known as Finagle’s Law, is “Anything that can go wrong, will – at the worst possible moment.” The underlying observation is certainly relevant for modern science. In technology – for example IT or high-end quality assurance – it is used as an analytical standard for fault-avoidance strategies, such as the fail-safe principle based on redundant systems, lending serious underpinnings to an otherwise light-hearted “law”.
In some respects, Mathematica represents a trend. Most software packages start life as specialized solutions for clearly defined problems, and from there they grow like the layers of an onion. As a result, they frequently lack a uniform concept covering their full range of applications. Mathematica, on the other hand, was designed for the greatest possible versatility. Its current version is a universal tool that not only represents state-of-the-art computer algebra, it also features scientific documentation capabilities, and with its traditional floating-point numerics, it can hold its own against specialized number-crunching applications. Scientists in research and educational settings, engineers and financial analysts all work with it. Artists use it to easily create algorithmically defined images without any particular scientific significance. In a way, it is reminiscent of the universal genius of the Renaissance, Leonardo da Vinci, who also strove to unite art and science. Is the 21st century coming full circle to the 15th?
Worldwide, a new chemical formula is developed every 60 seconds, a new physical correlation is researched every three minutes, and a new medical fact is established every five minutes. Unfortunately, no one has as yet determined how high that value would be in the high-tech optics sector. However, we can generally state that expertise becomes obsolete very quickly, especially due to rapid technical advances in the IT sector (new software, processors and programming languages). In many fields, experts who do not learn continuously stand to lose half of their specialist knowledge within three years. The same goes for the speed of scientific publication. The rate at which new books are being published has doubled in the last couple of decades. Interestingly, the doubling rate has not only been constant over the past 300 years, it has also matched the growth in the number of scientists over the same period. In one year, an average scientist scans around 10,000 article titles, studies 100 articles in greater detail, publishes one article and cites ten others.
We must resist the temptation to equate the number of publications with knowledge, however. Knowledge is concentrated, interpreted information, and therefore cannot grow at the same pace as the number of publications. Still, the willingness and ability to engage in lifelong learning takes on a whole new importance in light of this worldwide tidal wave of knowledge. If we intend to be successful, we all must be eternal students and take responsibility for continuous improvement in everything we do.
Japan’s current research in robotics is continuing down a path that began years ago with toy-like pet robots such as Sony’s Aibo. Honda’s Asimo and Sony’s SDR-3X – astonishingly sure-footed bipeds that can emulate humans in performing simple tasks – were further highlights along the way. Scientists have no qualms about admitting that their goal is to create domestic robots suitable for use in home, nursery and elder-care settings. One exciting aspect of this is the enthusiasm with which the Japanese public is following the development. It also documents the fundamental and highly ethical motivation of any dedication to science – the will to improve, simplify and enrich the lives of fellow humans. Thomas Alva Edison put it best: “I never perfected an invention that I did not think about in terms of the service it might give others … I find out what the world needs, then I proceed to invent.” And that’s just another way of expressing our own motto: Living up to Life.
The printing press, without which scientific documentation would not be possible to this very day, was based on a woodblock method using whole plates that was invented in China during the Tang Dynasty (618–907 AD). During the Song Dynasty (960–1279 AD), a printer named Bi Sheng refined this time-consuming and labor-intensive technology by using movable type. The baked clay he originally used for his letters was later replaced by wood and tin. In the mid-14th century, both processes made their way westward and inspired printing pioneer Johannes Gutenberg in Mainz, Germany, to develop his own printing technology using movable alloy letters. To give credit where it’s due, he can thank his wife for the inspiration, as she brought back carved printing plates, presumably of Chinese origin, from a trip to Venice.
This shared thirst for knowledge in the East and West provides countless opportunities for cooperation and practical team spirit. Indian computer and IT specialists are engaged in a lively exchange of expertise with leading Western scientists in the GÉANT research network. Scientists on two continents are cooperating on the Galileo satellite navigation system. Indian research centers in Delhi, Mumbai, Bangalore and Hyderabad – a city that recently acquired the apt nickname Cyberabad – are working at the leading edge of science. European and American companies are establishing presences on the sub-continent, while Indian students and scientists are enriching public and private research facilities the world over. Science is teamwork and has become the positive experience of globalization – bridging cultures and uniting them. The scientific community is well ahead of its time in many respects.