Science remains a daunting realm for many, and though most people are no doubt interested in the latest advances in science and technology, few feel confident enough to read a technical report or attend a technical meeting.
Fortunately, the Ontario Science Centre may have found a solution: alcohol. On the third Saturday of every month a group of scientifically curious people gather at the Rivoli to discuss scientific issues over beer and cocktails. Dubbed Cafe Scientifique, these informal discussions, fueled by booze, allow the young, old, informed or not to discuss and debate scientific issues.
Last Saturday’s discussion called “The death of genius,” explored whether our multitasking society of accessible information and instant communication can still produce a genius on the scale of Einstein, Darwin, or Newton.
The talk’s expert, Professor Brian Baigrie at U of T’s Institute for History and Philosophy of Science and Technology, didn’t think a genius was forthcoming. “All of the classic geniuses enjoyed a reputation of foregoing many aspects of life and focusing on a particular problem,” said Baigrie as he sipped his Steam Whistle.”But today science is a social endeavour as scientists and subjects gather into larger and larger groups.”
Tracy Barber, a cafe veteran, chimed in. “We’ve become multitaskers, there’s no time to think and it takes time to think deeply,” she said, sipping a glass of red wine. “Technology has led to quantity over quality.”
The first Cafe Scientifique was set up in Britain in 1998, and the concept has thrived. There are now 43 cafes in the British Isles, and 83 throughout the world, according to the Cafe Scientifique website.
Toronto’s cafe was started by the Ontario Science Centre, in June. “Cafe scientifiques are very important because they give people a venue to learn about scientific and technological issues in an informal setting . . . and it’s accessible to anyone,” said Suzanne Taylor, who organizes the event, and works at the Science Centre.
At Cafe’s Scientifiques, experts in a scientific field explain in everyday English a particular issue. Experts wear casual clothes and sit at the same chairs and tables as everyone else. First names are used and the audience is expected to do most of the talking.
At first the discussion in the dimly lit hall, normally a venue for concerts, was tentative; but slowly, a diversity of opinions emerged. Some said that more widely available education is bound to create more geniuses-the law of averages; others, such as Barber, who is a Pilates personal trainer, advocated the need for a slower approach to life; the odd optimist stressed the human ability to cope with change.
After a while though, the discussion began going adrift, as the participants’ booze buzz kicked in.
“The environment is like a soup, and I’m not just talking about pollution and plants,” said the grandmotherly Cristina Enrietti, a former school teacher. “The whole soup of factors humanity lies in has changed since Einstein. You may ‘boo’ me but now Bill Gates is a genius, and so is the guy in charge of Google.”
“I think Gandhi was a genius,” a man at the back chimed in. “Some of the people at the genius extreme are just plain odd and they have more time to think because they don’t have any friends.”
Not everyone thought as highly of Gandhi’s genius, though.
“Gandhi was a dumbass,” remarked Steve, a physics graduate who chose to remain anonymous. “Geniuses get results that make sense of big things that don’t make sense. Gandhi was not a genius.” He ruffled feathers, somewhat, by failing to follow the common conventions of conversation.
And afterwards, he gave The Varsity his verdict on the afternoon’s discussion: “It’s a gathering of a lot of stupid people who don’t know a lot about anything and the little they do know is wrong.”
