52 An encounter with Ernst Mayr
Ernst Mayr (1904-2005) was one of the premier evolutionary biologists of the mid-20th century. He was an Agassiz Professor of Biology at Harvard, and I met him in the early 1970s when I was a graduate student. I was not interested in evolution at the time, and we talked only once.
Mayr was a strong presence at Harvard. At the weekly lunch seminar, which took place in a room with a long table, Mayr was always attentive and always sat ramrod straight.
Around 1976 Mayr came to UC Berkeley (where I was a postdoc) for a departmental seminar. At the Museum coffee break on the morning before Mayr’s seminar, Dave Wake (Director of the MVZ) asked whether for a volunteer to drive Mayr to the San Francisco airport after Mayr’s seminar that afternoon. No one volunteered. Wake asked again. Finally, I volunteered.
But I began to wonder, what could I talk about with Ernst Mayr? I was not an evolutionary biologist, and I suspected that Mayr had limited interest in the physiological ecology of lizards. I did not want to embarrass myself during the drive to the airport.
Finally, I derived a question. Mayr would have been about 70 at that time, which seemed positively ancient to me. However, he remained active and continued publishing until 2004, when he was almost 100!
As drove toward the airport, I asked Mayr “How can one stay fresh throughout a long career?” He thought briefly and suggested that people should go to seminars, even those outside one’s own area of interest and expertise. He said most seminars he had attended were a waste of time, but occasionally a seminar would open a novel issue or would help him better understand a known issue. He repeated – go to seminars.
Next, he noted somewhat sadly that a some point in life, it becomes difficult or even impossible to change one’s long-held beliefs even when presented with conflicting data. Some ideas and beliefs are so ingrained that discarding or even modifying them is hard.
He mentioned that he was reading a biography of Max Planck. The author recounted an interview with Planck when Plank was old. The journalist asked, When you first came up with quantum theory, how did other physicists respond? Planck replied that they dismissed his ideas. The journalist next asked, What do physicists currently think of your ideas? Planck replied that they now treated his ideas as dogma. The journalist asked, How do you account for this change in how physicists view your work? Planck replied that he outlived all of his detractors.
Mayr relayed that story as we were driving across the Bay Bridge. I was stunned because his story was a confession. From the subdued tone of his voice, I realized that Mayr was indirectly admitting that he himself had reached that stage in life, where some of his life-long ideas were so ingrained that he could no longer change them, even when presented with challenging evidence.
I never expected such a personal revelation from someone with Mayr’s rigid reputation, especially as he barely knew me. But I gained two important lessons from this encounter. First, attend seminars – I agree with Mayr. In my case, seminars by Dan Janzen (Chapter 29) and by Reinhold Messner (Chapter 46) inspired novel research directions that enriched my life. Second, try to remain receptive to new and dogma-challenging ideas as one gets older. Neither lesson is easy, especially the latter.
Warren Porter, who has been a world leader in biophysical ecology and environmental toxicology for more than half a century, uses a complementary way to stay fresh. Warren’s work is exceptionally integrative and cross-disciplinary. To achieve and extend his breadth and skills, Warren takes courses at the University of Wisconsin: so far he has taken 52 courses (and is still counting) in 19 different departments. Warren never stops learning and applying what he has learned.