Last night, in the State of the Union, President Obama emphasized the importance of innovation in "winning the future." It's clear that he wants to usher in a golden era of American ingenuity, to unleash the talent of everyone. But here's a question that I couldn't stop thinking about during the speech: What if we've become less talented? Ingenuity, after all, depends on geniuses. But what if we have fewer geniuses? You see, earlier in the day, I'd read Gideon Rachman's Financial Times column on the dearth of "great thinkers" in the 21st century, in which he uses a recent Foreign Policy list of the "Top 100 Global Thinkers" as a point of comparison with the past:
Rachman acknowledges that he's probably being a bit unfair on contemporary thinkers. He proposes various explanations for this lack of geniuses, from the need for historical distance (perhaps Hitchens really is our Orwell) to the possibility that "familiarity breeeds contempt." (Hitchens would seem more like Orwell if he weren't so overexposed.) Personally, I'm most convinced by an alternative explanation, which is that our modern problems have gotten so hard - so damn intractable, complicated and multi-disciplinary - that we can no longer solve them by ourselves. The first piece of evidence suggesting that the difficulty of problems is increasing comes from historiometric data on the "peak age of creativity." It turns out that the peak age has been getting older for the past several hundred years. Dean Simonton, for instance, has shown that while Leonardo Da Vinci might have benefited from tackling the problems of medieval science in his mid-20s, the ideal age for modern scientists is closer to 40. Why? Because it takes longer to learn the field, to know enough to create new knowledge. Ben Jones, a professor at Kellogg, has found a similar trend:
But the complexity of our 21st century problems (clean coal, hydrogen cars, everything in neuroscience, string theory, etc.) has not just led to a postponement in peak creativity. It has also lessened the importance of the individual. Along with Stefan Wuchty and Brian Uzzi, Jones has found that teams have become a far more important part of intellectual production. By analyzing 19.9 million papers produced in the last fifty years (and 2.1 million patents), the Northwestern researchers were able to show that teamwork is a defining trend of modern research:
Furthermore, this shift is even more pronounced among influential papers: While the most cited studies in a field used to be the product of a lone genius – think of Einstein or Darwin - Jones, et. al. have demonstrated that the best research now emerges from groups. It doesn’t matter if the researchers are studying particle physics or human genetics: science papers produced by multiple authors receive more than twice as many citations as those authored by individuals. This trend was even more apparent when it came to “home run papers” - those publications with at least 1000 citations - which were more than six times as likely to come from teams of scientists.
I think this research helps explain why the era of the lone genius is coming to an end. If our current lists of global thinkers seem paltry, it's because the best thinkers no longer exist by themselves, toiling away in a vacuum. Instead, they require the constant feedback and knowledge of others. We live in a world of such complexity that our problems increasingly exceed the possibilities of the individual mind. Collaboration is no longer an option.
PS. Noah Gray, an editor at Nature, sees the 21st century importance of scientific teams as a "return to our ancestral roots of socialized problem-solving." It's an intriguing possibility: Perhaps the era of the lone genius was merely an historical blip, an anomaly in the great span of human problem-solving.