Bumblebees and Crazy Eddie
Jul. 18th, 2002 07:58 pmI caught part of a movie on TV today, The Bumblebee Flies Anyway (with Elijah Wood and Rachael Leigh Cook). It takes the concept of mind-over-body cancer treatment to the next level: what if you could be cured of cancer by being made to forget that you had it? And if so, would you trade your entire past for a future? (One suspects the equation is a bit different for Wood's character, a teenager, than for someone who gets cancer in their 50s or 60s - much more to lose for less gain.)
The title refers to the modern myth that math says bumblebees can't fly... but they do anyway, because no one's told them they can't. This is a fallacy - the truth is that the fixed wing equations don't allow for it, but bumblebees have flexible wings, which generate more lift - but it's the version that everyone knows, and the one that is mentioned in the movie. At first, this inaccuracy annoyed me; but then I began to think about why we prefer the half-truth.
In "The Mote in God's Eye", Niven and Pournelle wrote of an alien species whose biology, and the seemingly inescapable population booms and crashes resulting therefrom, have given them what we would consider a very fatalistic outlook. They, in turn, consider all humans to be insane: "Crazy Eddie," using a term from their own folklore for someone who refuses to accept that some problems don't have solutions. Years earlier, E.E. "Doc" Smith set humans apart from the other species of his galactic Civilization by making them stronger-willed, or at least more stubborn. And the classic SF story "The Cold Equations" presented a rather forced scenario intended to show that the laws of physics care not one bit for human sentimentality. The reaction over the years has been unusual but, on reflection, predictable: generations of readers have criticized the contrivances and searched for any possible loophole to get out of the no-win scenario the author worked so hard to set up. Compared to this, James T. Kirk is a newcomer.
What all of this suggests is that humanity's defining characteristic may very well be that we refuse to accept unsatisfactory choices or limits. (I think this is at least as likely as our "diversity", which is an excuse for storytelling laziness in not giving other species as much detail as humans, or our "aggressiveness", to name two other SF chestnuts.) Tell a man that something is impossible or forbidden and most likely his very first thought will be a reflexive "Oh yeah?", followed by trying to think his way out of or around it. And because as a species we never give up, sometimes we do accomplish what was previously thought to be impossible - often enough to give us hope to keep trying, at least.
The Bumblebee Myth, then, falls into the same category of cherished lore as magic: the idea that even the laws of nature must yield to a strong enough desire or will. If bumblebees can fly because they don't know they're not supposed to, what else might someone who literally "doesn't know the meaning of defeat" accomplish?
We claim that bumblebees can buzz on in blessed ignorance, because we want to believe that anything is possible... if we just want it badly enough.
The title refers to the modern myth that math says bumblebees can't fly... but they do anyway, because no one's told them they can't. This is a fallacy - the truth is that the fixed wing equations don't allow for it, but bumblebees have flexible wings, which generate more lift - but it's the version that everyone knows, and the one that is mentioned in the movie. At first, this inaccuracy annoyed me; but then I began to think about why we prefer the half-truth.
In "The Mote in God's Eye", Niven and Pournelle wrote of an alien species whose biology, and the seemingly inescapable population booms and crashes resulting therefrom, have given them what we would consider a very fatalistic outlook. They, in turn, consider all humans to be insane: "Crazy Eddie," using a term from their own folklore for someone who refuses to accept that some problems don't have solutions. Years earlier, E.E. "Doc" Smith set humans apart from the other species of his galactic Civilization by making them stronger-willed, or at least more stubborn. And the classic SF story "The Cold Equations" presented a rather forced scenario intended to show that the laws of physics care not one bit for human sentimentality. The reaction over the years has been unusual but, on reflection, predictable: generations of readers have criticized the contrivances and searched for any possible loophole to get out of the no-win scenario the author worked so hard to set up. Compared to this, James T. Kirk is a newcomer.
What all of this suggests is that humanity's defining characteristic may very well be that we refuse to accept unsatisfactory choices or limits. (I think this is at least as likely as our "diversity", which is an excuse for storytelling laziness in not giving other species as much detail as humans, or our "aggressiveness", to name two other SF chestnuts.) Tell a man that something is impossible or forbidden and most likely his very first thought will be a reflexive "Oh yeah?", followed by trying to think his way out of or around it. And because as a species we never give up, sometimes we do accomplish what was previously thought to be impossible - often enough to give us hope to keep trying, at least.
The Bumblebee Myth, then, falls into the same category of cherished lore as magic: the idea that even the laws of nature must yield to a strong enough desire or will. If bumblebees can fly because they don't know they're not supposed to, what else might someone who literally "doesn't know the meaning of defeat" accomplish?
We claim that bumblebees can buzz on in blessed ignorance, because we want to believe that anything is possible... if we just want it badly enough.
Hm. Two different thoughts come to mind...
Date: 2002-07-19 08:24 pm (UTC)On the other thought, it's always been an interesting point how much it may well not be chestnuts, but also not anything we can apply yet. It's the looking for loopholes that on more than one occasion further our understanding and underscore the ignorance. FTL is one of those that I'm more amused by every time.
'It's not possible'. 'Well, it's not possible normally.' 'Well, perhaps there's phenomena that simulates that effect.'
There is a definite prod and thought there, where quantum physics suggest there may be a method. At the same time, practicalities make using this 'may' impossible. But as you said, people still are prodding it. Offhand, I don't ever expect in my lifetime for a success, but I would wager that the pursuit may actually help get things closer to a fractional-cee velocity that means that would make at least automated probes more practical, if not 'colony' stations. This of course is me in my bright future mode, ignoring self-interest. After all, we made it to the moon, but we headed back home. Done it, too expensive to do more.