The joy in the journey

As a graduate student, nearly a quarter century ago, one of my projects focused on developing computational models to study protein design. At one point, our lab had a visiting scientist who knew several professional software developers. He told my adviser that he could get one of his contacts to quickly develop software for us, something that I was struggling with. This professionally made software would not cost much (because of the contacts of the visiting scientist) and quickly get us the answers we were looking for through my research. I still remember that conversation in my adviser's office. My adviser told the visiting scientist that while the offer was most generous and kind, he wanted me to learn myself – to struggle, figure out, make mistakes and come up with a solution. It would take time, sure, but it would give me as a young graduate student valuable knowledge, train me, and in doing so would open new worlds for me, and chart out new paths for others. My adviser was right – the process of struggle, failure, missteps, and ultimately something meaningful was long, at times painful and uncertain, but critical for my own intellectual development. Among the research papers that came out of that journey, one was on the cover of a prestigious journal, highlighted as a major discovery in my field, and indeed opened up new worlds of research for me. Among the many things that I owe to my research adviser, recognising the value of the journey, and not just the destination, remains a cherished one. A few weeks ago, when AI companies announced solving some of the most high-profile problems in mathematics, over two dozen Fields Medal winning mathematicians raised alarm in an eloquently written piece. The point of mathematics, they argued, is not to simply solve a problem, instead they argued "solving problems is only a tool and proxy for achieving the primary goal of conceptual understanding and insight". Like other colleagues in research professions all across the world (including my own adviser who lived by this ideal), they recognised something precious in training, thinking, navigating and debating ideas and solutions. "The most precious resources of our profession are students and ideas and these we nurture with great care. We feel responsible to let them grow to their full potential until they can live a life of their own in the mathematical world. For students we often suggest problems with the core intention of developing skills making them well-positioned for advances in research and elsewhere. Our ideas we disseminate in talks private discussions and careful writeups connecting them to the previous ideas of others. These processes invariably take time and are based on human interaction." I believe that the issue here is not just about the brute force approach of AI to solving problems and claiming the prize, but also asking how we view research and training in the current moment. In a research world so fixated on the next grant, and where ideas are increasingly undervalued and the entire emphasis is on 'results' (even those that do not stand up to serious intellectual scrutiny) – the world of research has become one permanent race, where 'winning' (whatever that may mean) is everything. This notion on winning means that students are told to do specific experiments, to expect certain results, and in most cases to write those results in a pre-existing format with little room for thought, doubt or curiosity. A lot is lost on this path that has no room for wonder or wander. Sometimes modern research journey feels very much like ordering books online through one's favourite retailer. It is indeed efficient, but offers something very different from going to a bookstore. Online, you can quickly click on a button and order what you wanted to get, but in a bookstore, it may take you a little while to get what you were looking for, but while browsing the shelves there is a finite chance you may come across something that you had never expected, and that may change your life. A world where that chance disappears completely seems awfully unpleasant to me.