The definition of humanity...

The definition of humanity is doing the same thing again and again expecting different results.

With apologies to Albert Einstein, who claimed that the above is the definition of insanity, I think my definition is more appropriate. Who among us has not had our "Bart Simpson and the Cupcake Moment"... BZZZT-OW! BZZZT-OW!

For the non-Simpson fluent, Lisa has a science fair project "Is My Brother Smarter Than a Hamster?". She electrifies a hamster treat. After one shocking effort, the hamster gives up on the treat. Then she electrifies a cupcake. Bart repeatedly grabs it and is repeatedly shocked.

This may sound like a downer of a viewpoint from someone who is normally an optimist. I admit that I thought of it in a down moment, but it has stuck with me longer as something a bit more complex.

Tying in to my previous posts on the relationship of humans to animals, one big cognitive difference is the propensity for abstract thought. We have the ability to envision the world as it could be and then attempt to achieve it. This can be tragic in some cases, like the inveterate gambler who thinks that this time he really can beat the house. But it is inspirational in others, like the people championing environmental and sustainable practices. Despite years of setbacks, ridicule and frustration, they have charged those windmills over and over again. (Though, I suppose, in a literal sense, they have charged for windmills, not against them.)

Then, of course, sometimes it is mundane. I suspect each of us has many little things that we try to do, over and over, despite a lack of success. I have reluctantly come to the conclusion that I am not creative.

This is tough to accept, because I have a very good imagination. But creativity and imagination are separate entities. I spent many hours of my youth recreating the Star Wars universe in my head with myself in lead role, but the plot lines were always minor variations on cliched and simplistic stories. The ability to create something genuinely new, like my friends Stephen, Mary or Gwen, seems beyond me.

I think that is also why I struggled at the research aspects of being a professor. A significant part of the challenge is coming up with a problem that nobody has solved, that people want solved and that you can solve... and preferably one that people will pay you to do. I just couldn't invent a problem to solve. That is one way that my current job is a good fit. The goals are laid out clearly, and my challenge is building the bridge from here to there. Since I can imagine what the final goal looks like once someone has planted the seed, I am good at figuring out how to do it.

I have been reading the books about how J.R.R. Tolkien wrote "The Lord of the Rings". His son has painstakingly crawled through his father's old papers and the rough drafts to show the growth of my favorite tale with all the starts and stops. It was fascinating to see the process of true creativity unfold; what started as a simple sequel to The Hobbit pulls in the ideas and themes from his Silmarillion ideas and grows far beyond his anticipation. Aragorn starts out as hobbit called Trotter who wears wooden shoes and grows into Viggo Mortensen. In a way, I feel better knowing how laborious the process is... one burst of inspiration is followed by efforts in synchronizing time lines, calculating distances and honing the text.

And so, even though I know I won't write a novel, I know that I will keep trying to grow my creative side. BZZZT! OW! BZZZT! OW! But, hey, I'm only human.