Einstein's Gift

On friday night, I got to make good on my theoretical interest in the convergence of science and culture, by participating in the post-show discussion of a performance of "Einstein's Gift", as part of the Epic Theatre Center spring workshop series.

"Einstein's Gift" is an award-winning play by Vern Thiessen (who attended the same performance as I did, as if anyone told me...) mainly about the life and work of Fritz Haber, recipient of the 1918 Nobel Prize in Chemistry (whose bio is detailed, but radically incomplete).  I must admit that I had never heard of Haber before (even coming from a chemistry department at BNL!) but he's a fascinating figure.  Even after major advances in electrochemistry and Bunsen flames, he made a huge contribution to European agriculture before World War I by developing nitrogen capture, allowing the industrial-scale manufacture of artificial fertilizer.  Unfortunately, he also developed the use of chlorine gas as a tool for war, deployed by the German's in WWI, and his later research turned out to be the seed for the Zyklon B used by the Nazi's in WWII.  This latter tragedy was especially tragic in light of the fact that Haber was a Jew by birth, but converted to Christianity to aid in his professional advancement.  And none of this, which followed his Nobel work, emerges in the official bio.  For other details, you should poke around Google a bit.

Einstein and Haber are portrayed as having an intermittent friendship, anchored by a deep respect for each other's scientific ability.  This persisted despite obvious differences in their philosophies of scientific practice: Einstein focussing on uncovering secrets of nature through theoretical investigation, Haber insisting time and time again that science without obvious application had little value.  Of course, Haber did not envision the unintended consequences of his work -- but then again, neither did Einstein, the parallel being a central theme of the play. 

Needless to say, I found "Einstein's Gift" to be a compelling play and a powerful reading, with very moving performances from the leads (some of whose names I want to give, but this will have to wait for an update -- I somehow didn't get a program!  several others are mentioned below...).  It should be returning to New York as a full production this September, and shouldn't be missed.

But the play wasn't the only part of the evening.  Afterwards, the producer of the play, Zak Berkman, moderated a discussion between the audience and a panel of guest speakers, consisting of myself, Dr. Rosamond Rhodes (a bioethicist from the CUNY graduate center), and three actors from the show: Melissa Friedman (Haber's doomed first wife), Jim Wallert (Haber's former research assisant), and Sarah Winkler (Haber's second wife).  I must admit that I was suffering from a mild case of stage fright the whole...week...but I quickly drawn in by the increasingly animated conversation that developed. 

The main focus was on the responsibility of the scientist for technologies derived from basic research, especially those technologies capable of mass destruction.  There was also a lot of discussion of the role of religion in the lives of these two scientific men, especially in the context of the ethical and moral decisions both men made, and didn't make, in the course of their lives.  Of course, being part of the conversation, rather than carefully listening and taking notes, makes it difficult to recount the details (although there were some moments that were obviously funny to the audience and the actors, when Rosamond and I were clearly arguing how much we agreed with each other...).  Ultimately, I was quite impressed by how passionate all involved felt about the issues raised by the play, and was very honored to have been invited to be a participant.

The invitation was a funny story in itself, having happened last Saturday at about 1am after a few beers at the party of mutual friends.  I overheard one of the performers, (you know who you are, and thanks again!) discussing a play about Einstein with a friend of mine and I didn't hesitate to interject myself into the conversation -- I mean, I'm a physics blogger in the Einstein Year; it's my job to get into conversations like this!  Next thing I knew, I was committed to participating in the post-show despite my obvious lack of knowledge of Haber, and my lack of relevant knowledge about Einstein -- but nothing a bit of Google and a few Einstein books couldn't fix.

Comments

[ursula]

Wow! Who wouldn't have stage fright! How interessting!

I don't know why these productions never make it to Paris. Neither "Copenhaguen" nor this one, I never heard of being played here.

[Sarah]

The play and the panel discussion were indeed highly stimulating. I received an e-flyer this morning announcing that there will be one more performance this Thursday (19th) at 2 pm, at the Culture Project, 45 Bleeker Street. It's free; call for reservations at 212-875-4804.

[Peter]

Hi Ursula - According to Google, seems like Copenhagen did make it to Paris, but in early 1999, which is well before I ever noticed it in the US. There's a reference to it here: http://www.courttheatre.org/home/plays/0102/copenhagen/PNcopenhagen.shtml . Now if only we had that time machine...

[ursula]

Thanks! To bad chances are probably slim then to have it on stage again.

[Paul Stankus]

If you're interested in learning more about the moral
paths of German chemists, I recommend the book
"The Crime and Punishment of I.G. Farben" by
Joseph Borkin; it's short and a very good read.
It details, for example, how the German chemical
industry escaped prosecution for war crimes in the
First World War by cutting back-room deals with the
French government to share patent rights for making
artificial dyes (hence "Farben"). Haber is featured
prominently in the early part of the book.

Secondly, I've never been all that impressed with Haber's
supposed genius. The nitrogen-fixing process for which
he was awarded the chemistry Nobel prize (see
http://www.britannica.com/nobel/micro/253_44.html ),
later the Haber-Bosch process (Bosch was awarded the
Nobel separately later), is really no more than a clever
choice of catalyst combined with the recognition that
high pressures would tend to drive a reaction in which the
number of molecules decreases. Standard LeChatelier
reasoning that it doesn't take a genius to figure out
(though maybe it did a hundred years ago), and still
inferior to what nitrogen-fixing bacteria manage to do
without high pressures. Now that you know more,
what am I missing here?

[Peter]

I get the impression that even the choice of catalyst wasn't a matter of cleverness, but of sheer determination to find the one that worked among the thousands of trials - but that's no secret: a chemist made precisely that point to me the other day. And yet, sometimes that appears to be enough for the Nobel committees (lucky for those of us who aren't brilliant...)