Roald Hoffmann: persona extraordinaria.

Extracto de la autobiografía de Roald Hoffmmann, ganador del nobel en 1981, desde nobelprize.org:

"I have been asked to summarize my contributions to science.

My research interests are in the electronic structure of stable and unstable molecules, and of transition states in reactions. I apply a variety of computational methods, semiempirical and nonempirical, as well as qualitative arguments, to problems of structure and reactivity of both organic and inorganic molecules of medium size.

(...)

The technical description above does not communicate what I think is my major contribution. I am a teacher, and I am proud of it. At Cornell University I have taught primarily undergraduates, and indeed almost every year since 1966 have taught first-year general chemistry. I have also taught chemistry courses to non-scientists and graduate courses in bonding theory and quantum mechanics.

(...)

My first real introduction to poetry came at Columbia from Mark Van Doren, the great teacher and critic whose influence was at its height in the 1950's. Through the years I maintained an interest in literature, particularly German and Russian literature.

(...)

It seems obvious to me to use words as best as I can in teaching myself and my coworkers.

The words are important in science, as much as we might deny it, as much as we might claim that they just represent some underlying material reality.

It seems equally obvious to me that I should marshal words to try to write poetry. I write poetry to penetrate the world around me, and to comprehend my reactions to it."

The language of science is a language under stress. Words are being made to describe things that seem indescribable in words - equations, chemical structures and so forth. Words do not, cannot mean all that they stand for, yet they are all we have to describe experience. By being a natural language under tension, the language of science is inherently poetic. There is metaphor aplenty in science. Emotions emerge shaped as states of matter and more interestingly, matter acts out what goes on in the soul.


One thing is certainly not true: that scientists have some greater insight into the workings of nature than poets. Interestingly, I find that many humanists deep down feel that scientists have such inner knowledge that is barred to them. Perhaps we scientists do, but in such carefully circumscribed pieces of the universe! Poetry soars, all around the tangible, in deep dark, through a world we reveal and make."