The wrongs at the "right" edge of human existence...

How genius is persecuted even as it is ardently desired...

In ancient Rome, genius was the guiding spirit of a person - a 'genie' who would inspire a person to create, produce and bring into being, things of exceptional beauty. From the early days of being associated with spirits, genius soon became an assessment of intelligence and creativity.

Centuries later, philosopher David Hume stated that "a genius is looked at as a person disconnected from the society - someone who works remotely, away from the rest of the world". Although Hume's definition seems rather simplistic, reductionist, and perhaps even wrong, there is a kernel of truth in it. Genius is defined by its separation from the rest of the populace. In other words, in the human spectrum of intelligence, most people lie around and define the average. But the geniuses lie on the right edge of that Gaussian bell shaped distribution - separated from the rest of the world. This distance - separating the genius from the average on the bell curve - also reflects on our social mores, expectations and tolerances, as geniuses are measured upto a different standard altogether.

While most people seek genius, a chosen few are 'blessed' with it. This however, does not diminish the value or exclusivity of it. It's rarity only makes genius more sought after and elusive. Even today, the rest of the us seem to be struggling to understand the genius of Mozart, Picasso, Shakespeare, Beethoven or Einstein. They are revered, honored, envied and studied. And yet they are persecuted in their own way.

Yes. Genius is persecuted by the Society. Not just the Galileos and Aristotles of the world who seek to overthrow and invalidate our view of the world. This persecution is extended to the fondest of our geniuses.

Albert Einstein, a name synonymous with genius, died on 18th April 1955 at the age of 76 from a ruptured abdominal aortic aneurysm. His brain - the very mass of cells that had imagined traveling on a beam of light and in the process redefined our view of the universe -  weighed 1230 g. At the time of his death, Einstein wished for a cremation. He wanted to prevent the examination, dismemberment and desecration of his remains. And yet what happened next is a testament to our obsession, fascination and alienation with idea of a genius. Contrary to what was requested, Einstein's eyes were removed by his ophthalmologist and they remain in private hands till today. In fact, even today, they maybe floating in a cookie jar filled with formalin on someone's mantle piece. But what began with the eyes, did not stop there. The examining pathologist, Thomas S. Harvey wanted to study the brain of this genius and proceeded to acquire permission to preserve and study the brain. The permeating rationale being that structural differences may underlie the functional differences in Einstein's brain as he envisioned the space-time fabric and attempted to explain the special and general theories of relativity. 

Although the details behind the rest of the story are murky, it is believed that Harvey obtained permission from Einstein's son, Hans Albert and his executor, Otto Nathan to preserve the brain. And thus, Einstein's brain was removed, weighed, measured, perfused and immersed in the pungent smelling  formalin. Being a pathologist by profession, Harvey also used an Exakta 35 mm camera to take dozens of photographs of the whole and partially dissected brain. He then partitioned the hemispheres into 240 blocks. The cerebellum (our hind brain), the brain stem and the cerebral arteries were also preserved in the hope that may shed additional light on the workings of a genius. The resulting 240 blocks were embedded in celloidin and histological slides were sectioned and stained. He also meticulously prepared a detailed map indicating the location of each of the blocks and their source. 

These blocks and the remaining pieces of Einstein's brain have since then remained in the possession of Dr. Harvey.  They have traveled around with him from Princeton to the Midwest and then returned to Princeton again. Being a pathologist, Dr. Harvey was not in a position to interpret and study the brain in his possession and so he gave tissue blocks and slides to as many as 18 investigators. Based on Harvey's photographs and slides, several peer-reviewed publications have dissected Einstein's brain - literally and metaphorically, against his wishes to try and find any features that might make him special. From increased number of neurons in the frontal lobe and increased glia:neuron ratios to larger astrocytic processes, a number of changes, big and small have been recorded. And yet, none of these can explain anything quite conclusively because our brains change with us. They are different with age, gender, disease state, and intellect. And to identify significant changes in Einstein's brain one would also need a large set of perfectly matched control brains - which are difficult to procure. 

Nonetheless, the quest for Harvey's samples has continued. To try and trace the original materials, to study and analyze the tissue blocks and to spot a difference. Many papers have been published and continue to be published as we make Einstein pay the price of his genius.

After more than half a century since his death, parts of Einstein's brain remain missing. Upon Dr. Harvey's death, a large collection of photographs, tissue blocks and slides came into the possession of his estate and were then donated to the national museum of heath and medicine in 2010. Somewhere else pieces of Einstein's brain are probably still floating around in glass vials of formalin or lying embedded in blocks of paraffin as scientists try and explain his insights into our physical world to the presence and absence of structures on his brain.

The man who discovered the space-time warps and tried to unify the physical theories of our existence is denied the most fundamental of our rights - the right to privacy and the right to self determination. And yet, the public's imagination is captivated by the minute changes observed in the structure of his brain than by the denial of his very fundamental rights. 

And lest you think that Einstein was an exception - let me clarify that he was not. Men and women at the ends of the bell curve have been subjected to such persecution time and again. 

Willa Cather's letters have remained restricted since her death in 1947; but today a fat volume of those letters has been published. Georgia O'Keeffe's letters to her husband were unavailable for twenty five years after her death but today, they are online, available to anyone with a laptop and an internet connection. Some people like Somerset Maugham burnt their correspondences for precisely this reason. Jane Austen's family also recognized this as her sister Cassandra burnt most of her letters. And yet, scholars and readers alike are captivated by the celebrity and the genius. We justify the public scrutiny of Angelia Jolie's lifestyle or of decision to have a mastectomy. We are able to forgive the paparazzi hounding of the british royal family that led to the death of Princess Diana. Our curiosity to understand the workings of a great mind seems to dominate every concern of privacy, freedom or even decency that we normally seem to take for granted. 

This brings one to the question of rights to an individual. By publishing their work, making a movie or proposing a theory - does an individual relinquish his/her rights? Does it puts them squarely in the eye of public adulation and criticism? And yet, for that which a writer, a scientists or a celebrity chooses to not reveal - shouldn't his/her privacy be respected?
Is death the ultimate abdication of one's authority over one's own life, one's thoughts and one's freedoms?
Death is a great leveler but for those who stray from the median, death seems to bring with it restrictions that previously did not exist. 

Would you tolerate the same principles to be applied to your near and dear ones? To their thoughts, their minds and their organs? Where are the lines drawn? 

A society's obsession with genius is a sign of its strife to perfect itself and to move ahead. But this seemingly noble quest is also a sign of its obsession with the homogenization of its people - to box its people into tiny little units of perfection that can be successfully propagated. 

This brings me to the perplexing question raised by Roxanna Robinson in a recent New Yorker post:

"It’s the work that draws the scrutiny. We writers reveal ourselves through our work, and in some ways it’s absurd to think that we can maintain our privacy: we gave up privacy when we mailed off that first manuscript, that manuscript in which we revealed our most burning and intimate selves. ---- If we burn the letters, we won’t put out the fire. It will continue, now fueled by speculation. Maybe the real question is not, “Should we restrict our letters after we die?” but “Should we sit down at this desk and start making sentences?” That’s the biggest risk." 

And yet, if this remains the question that haunts the gifted individuals at the right edge of the human distribution curve - what incentive do they have to make a difference, to change the world? Should they stop making their sentences too? 

References: 

1) Driving Mr. Albert: a trip across America with Einstein's brain by Michael Paterniti
2) The cerebral cortex of Albert Einstein: a description and preliminary analysis of previously unpublished photographs; Brain (A journal of neurology), 2013, Dean Falk, Frederick E Lepore and Adrianne E Noe
3) Burn your letters by Roxanna Robinson, New Yorker, 2013
4) Possessing Genius: The bizarre Odyssey of Einstein's Brain by Carolyn Abraham