Behind the lone genius...

Like the breath of a sparkler, the brilliant young mathematician Ramanujan ignited the world of numbers, sharing profound solutions, only to be extinguished prematurely at the age of 32. It was this story that compelled my friend Ray to dedicate himself to a talent search to find the next hidden genius. And at his recommendation, I watched The Man Who Knew Infinity earlier this year, a biopic on this genius. I swept through every emotion, from awe to sorrow, due to his life’s tribulations and triumphs.

But being inspired to find the next Ramanujan wasn’t one of them.

I couldn't articulate to myself the reason why until my coffee rendezvous with my friend Priya a few months later. It was our first encounter and one of the most meaningful ones, set against my favorite backdrop: the Barnes & Noble at Union Square. She uttered the word “scenius,” a term that was all but a skeleton in my mind. She continued, “It’s another way of saying ‘genius cluster’—genius embedded in the scene—scenius.” She spoke of Athens and the Renaissance in Florence, and suddenly, I understood why I hadn’t shared Ray’s eagerness. These lone geniuses weren’t so lonely after all.

Following my chat and maniacal rabbit holes on all things related to scenius, one thing became clear to me: Instead of seeking out the next Ramanujan in far-flung locales, perhaps the focus should be on nurturing the environments where such geniuses naturally spring to life—almost like an emergent property of a flourishing community.

The past is a great testament to this. Throughout history, there have been moments and places where genius didn’t just bloom; it proliferated. Think of Ancient Athens, where philosophy, arts, and sciences converged. Or Renaissance Florence, a nexus of art, science, and innovation. Even the remarkable surge of Hungarian mathematicians and physicists in the 20th century can be linked to specific schools and mentors. Each of these “genius clusters” epitomized scenius. 

What made them so special? 

**not an exhaustive list**

Patronage

When I think about the scenius that emerged in Florence, the one that gave birth to the Renaissance, I can’t help but think of the Medici family. They were powerful bankers with deep coffers and an insatiable appetite for art. Without their patronage, names such as Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, and Botticelli might have meant nothing to us today. It wasn’t just about financial support, the Medici family created an environment in which artists, thinkers, and scientists could engage in dialogue, take risks, and push boundaries. This is what made Florence a hotbed of innovation. 

In the 18th and early 19th century, Vienna also thrived under a wing of patrons. The Habsburg monarchs and the city’s aristocracy avidly supported classical musicians, such as Beethoven and Mozart. While these composers still faced their share of hardships, it was the economic and social support from the aristocratic class that allowed these musicians to compose some of the most timeless pieces of music.

Or think of 19th century Parisian Salons. These gatherings were financially backed by affluent French families and intellectuals. But, it wasn’t simply about sponsorship once again, it was about creating an ecosystem, where artists, writers, critics, and patrons interacted, debated, and formed opinions. And these salons played a pivotal role in shaping modern art and literature. 

Yes, we have Patreon now, but it is nothing like the intimacy of old-time patronage. I’m reminded of the wealthy patron in Croton, Milo, who offered a section of his house for Pythagoras to start a school. Nowadays, we don’t see this kind of direct, personal relationship between a patron and an artist or thinker. 

Perhaps there’s also something to be said about a decline in patience. Traditional patronage was more patient, giving their artists and thinkers room to breathe, sometimes even for decades. Now, patrons look more like venture capitalists, with an emphasis on quick returns.

Mentorship

The idea of the ‘lone genius’--a self-taught individual who produces masterpieces have long seduced popular imagination. Yet, when you peer beneath, the storyline often shifts. Take Einstein. Touted as the epitome of the “lone genius”, he was greatly influenced by his childhood mentor, Max Talmey. Over weekly lunches, they’d sink their teeth into the latest scientific literature. Those tête-à-têtes weren’t just casual banter; they arguably paved the way for Einstein’s epoch-making theories.

Turn back the clock to ancient Athens, and you'll stumble upon an intellectual relay race. Socrates imparting wisdom to Plato, and Plato, in turn, nurturing Aristotle. This trio didn't just sprinkle some ideas here and there; they laid the very bedrock of Western thought. Even Leonardo da Vinci, for all his Renaissance genius, wasn't a solitary craftsman in a workshop. He blossomed under the tutelage of the revered artist Verrocchio, fine-tuning his techniques before he ever sketched his own masterpieces.

Yet, what truly fascinates me is when entire families seem to hit the genius jackpot. One might be tempted to chalk it up to winning genetic roulette, but I wager there’s more to it. I see these families as cauldrons of ‘micro-scenius’—hotbeds of live mentorship, even knowledge through sheer osmosis, and an almost palpable air of expectation. Dive into the annals of the Bernoulli clan, and you'll find it teeming with eminent mathematicians and physicists. Growing up amidst passionate intellectual debates, brilliance wasn’t an aspiration; it was the family standard. The Bach lineage tells a similar tale. Over 50 Bachs, spanning centuries, graced the musical world. For them, musical prowess wasn’t a starry-eyed dream but, rather, the family norm. Then there’s the Curie family: Marie Curie and her husband Pierre’s children all achieved greatness, with their daughter Irene Joliot-Curie winning a Nobel Prize of her own. It wasn’t merely genetic destiny; it was the alchemy of mentorship mixed with an environment primed for greatness.

Today's tutoring landscape, unfortunately, has a tinge of remediation to it. If you’re being tutored in math, it means you’re in rough waters with numbers. But historically, as seen above, tutoring was a hotbed of curiosity and a haven for questions. It played midwife to many a genius. And as we stand on the cusp of AI-flavored everything, I'm optimistic about the idea of personalized AI tutors. And maybe we can recapture a smidgen of that old-world mentoring magic.

Networks of success

In the corridors of Bell Labs a serendipitous discovery always awaits. It is here that the soft hum of a UNIX operating system being crafted intertwines with the notes of psychoacoustics. Disciplines didn’t just coexist; they thrived together. Moreover, success had a high resonance. If one person made a breakthrough, the ripples of that achievement echoed through the facility, inspiring others to reach new heights. Developments such as the transistor were not the eureka moment of a lone genius; they were the culmination of shared knowledge that had the freedom to breathe in one space. The lab also housed an eclectic mix of professionals—be it physicists, historians, engineers, social scientists, and even a resident pianist—John Pierce, who worked on psychoacoustics. This mix ensured that their solutions weren't tunnel visioned.

Then there’s, of course, the Royal Society. Established in the mid-17th century in London, they played a pivotal role in the scientific revolution. Members like Sir Isaac Newton, Robert Hooke, and Sir Christopher Wren could be found meeting regularly, conducting experiments, presenting their findings, debating theories, peer-reviewing, learning from each other, and doing really everything that we consider good science today. Discoveries by individual members elevated the entire Society’s stature, drawing attention and resources that benefited all members. Like a positive feedback loop, this reputation and the members’ achievements continuously bolstered each other, exemplifying the power of network effects.

The search continues...

This list is far from comprehensive.  I will continue to outline more in later posts. I’ll leave it on this note: it’s clear that great things clearly happened when great people were together. Understanding how this came to be is challenging, and even with that knowledge, recreating the magic isn't guaranteed. Many cities have tried to capture some of Silicon Valley’s allure in-house and failed. This is just my starting point, and I'm eager to delve deeper, especially into the challenges we face when attempting to establish modern-day centers of excellence.

It's not merely about assembling talented individuals in one place. It's about creating infrastructures that genuinely promote meaningful collaboration, implementing systems adept at managing and learning from setbacks, and making sure that accomplishments benefit not just a select few, but a wider audience.

So, what truly drives these hubs of talent and innovation? Is it merely a question of funding? Is it rooted in cultural dynamics? Or is it a nuanced interplay of various elements? Even more importantly, once we identify these elements, how can we ensure their impact is lasting and not just ephemeral? I’ve got my hands full.

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This is the 3rd post for the Write of Passage cohort 11. Prompt: What’s something you notice about the world that others may not?