The computer revolution began with a new tool and quickly emerged into a new style as computers became small, cheap, and ubiquitous. At the beginning of the revolution, when John von Neumann built his computer at Princeton, computers were large and expensive. Von Neumann’s computer was dedicated to two big projects, weather prediction in daytime and hydrogen bombs at night. Twenty years later, when the revolution was in fuIl swing, computers had become personal, available to anyone who needed them, and applicable to a huge variety of purposes. Centralized management was displaced by do-it-yourself improvisation. Computers are now as common as dishwashers and are used indiscriminately as tools or toys.
It often happens that a scientific revolution is accompanied by a change in style. I like to use the names of Napoleon and Tolstoy to symbolize two contrasting styles: rigid organization and discipline represented by Napoleon, creative chaos and freedom represented by Tolstoy. In the world of computers, Napoleon is the massive IBM main-frame; Tolstoy is the humble Macintosh. The computer revolution was an escape from the Napoleonic ambitions of von Neumann to the Tolstoyan anarchy of the Internet. Future revolutions will bring more such escapes.
In the last few years I had the opportunity of visiting two extraordinary laboratories, both in Switzerland: the international particle physics laboratory known as CERN near Geneva, and the IBM research center at Ruschlikon near Zurich. These happen to be the two places where the most spectacular discoveries in the physics of the last twenty years have been made, at CERN in particle physics and at Ruschlikon in condensed-matter physics. The people at CERN discovered the beautiful world of Wand Z particles; the people at Ruschlikon discovered scanning tunneling microscopes and high-temperature superconductors.
These two laboratories are good examples of the two styles of science. CERN with its big machines and its centralized administration belongs firmly to the NapoIeonic tradition, even if the new Director-General, Christopher Llewellyn-Smith, does not wear the Imperial tiara as flamboyantly as his predecessor, Carla Rubbia. The laboratory at Ruschlikon is just as firmly Tolstoyan, with a social structure resembling an extended family, and nobody giving orders. The two styles are appropriate to the different tasks that the two laboratories arc engaged in. To operate successfully a machine of the size and complexity of LEP, the Large Electron-Positron Collider, Napoleonic centralization is unavoidable. Big machines require big egos to build and operate them. Each experiment at LEP resembles a military campaign, with elaborate logistics and timetables prepared several years in advance. On the other hand, military timetables would have been totally out of place at Ruschlikon, where the major discoveries were unexpected and unplanned. At Ruschlikon, the administration provides excellent equipment for talented scientists to play with, and then gives them freedom to play.
In all areas of science the future will bring opportunities to build new tools and make new discoveries, some requiring Napoleonic discipline, others requiring Tolstoyan freedom. Both on the national and the international level, the funding for science is likely to be unstable. Money for science will be increasingly spasmodic and unpredictable. In such an environment, Napoleonic enterprises will be ill-adapted to survive; Tolstoyan enterprises will do better. We should be prepared to shift science as far as we can toward a Tolstoyan style of operation. In some sciences such as microbiology and neurobiology, Tolstoyan chaos already prevails to a large extent. The two areas of science which a shift away from Napoleonic rigidity will be the most difficult are particle physics and space science…