I get a lot
of communication from people who trip across insights that have somehow eluded
the tweedy practitioners of mainstream science. Let me serve up some examples
for your edification and delight:
"I am a
native of another star system, sent to Earth. You can tell this is true because
my eyes are a strange color."
"Relativity
is wrong, and I can prove it using seventh grade math."
"Aliens
came to Earth a long time ago to engineer a new species, and Homo sapiens is
the product."
"SETI
should stop looking for radio signals, and tune in
hyperdimensional waves."
Some of
these folks think that validation of such novel hypotheses is merely a matter
of explaining their idea to the right person. So they send me an e-mail or ring
me up at the office. I'm not always impressed.
Now let's
be clear: just
about every new theory appears wacko at birth. If not, it's unlikely to be
either novel or important. In addition, experts can be so thoroughly marinated
in the "conventional wisdom" that they'll rail at any theory that isn't already
in the textbooks.
The inability
of some scientists to consider ideas that aren't already afloat in the
mainstream is a cudgel that UFO
believers often wield to beat up skeptics. And indeed, sometimes knowing
too much really can be a bad thing. In commenting on Einstein, the German mathematician
David Hilbert famously wrote "Do you know why Einstein said the most original
and profound things about space and time that have been said in our generation?
Because he had learned nothing about all the mathematics and philosophy of
space and time."
On the
other hand, and to paraphrase Groucho Marx, sometimes a cigar really is a
cigar. Just because an idea is radical, or just because the author is unsullied
by specialist knowledge, there's no guarantee that a new theory is true. In
fact, most of the time it isn't. Gratuitous example: Aliens didn't engineer our
species. The evolution of DNA did.
So how
should you demonstrate that your idea is wheat rather than chaff? It's simple:
publish. Write it up, don't just talk it up. If you publish, the world
at large will do one of the following: (1) confirm your idea with new data, (2)
send your theory to the rubbish tip with contradictory data, or (3) just ignore
you. (This last option is reserved for those ideas that are adjudged not worth
the bother.)
If
possible, it's best to publish in a refereed journal, of course. That will give
your revelation the sheen of peer review. Sure, this is daunting to
non-established researchers who figure that these journals are the exclusive
domain of the tried and tenured. But they are the conduit of serious
science. Consider the caveat that physicist and author Paul Davies has put on
his web site, namely that he is "not able to provide evaluations of manuscripts
or papers unless submitted through a professional journal." He's a busy guy.
But even an
unrefereed publication indeed even that icon of immodesty, a self-published
book will buff your idea to a better gloss. Consider: When Galileo
made his telescopic discoveries of the moons of Jupiter and a few other
important things, he felt the need to get them typeset and bound ASAP (he was
worried about being scooped by competitors). Rather than wait around 285 years
for the Astrophysical Journal, Galileo rushed into print with his own,
small book. Smooth move.
Frankly, it's
simply not enough to merely concoct a cunning concept. Sure, that will provide
you an interesting narrative, but that by itself won't be compelling. You need
to substantiate your story. Charles Darwin not only had an idea; he had a book
full of data examples from finches to whales that supported his
idea. Galileo had night-by-night drawings of Jupiter's moons, as seen through
his telescope.
Data are
valuable. Ideas, on the other hand like phone calls and e-mail are cheap.
Your creative genius may have hatched a truly revolutionary idea. Indeed, you
probably think so. But no matter what your opinion of your hypothesis might be,
if you hope for someone to fly you to Stockholm and hand you a check, don't
just call me up and lay out your case. Do something better: write it up and
tell the world.