Innovation

Where do new scientific hypotheses come from? Pasteur’s nugget, “Chance favors only the prepared mind,” suggests that scientific breakthroughs—ones that are groundbreaking and impactful—do not occur idiosyncratically. Rather, the scientific mind needs to contain a reserve of information, but also be open to anomaly and surprise, to recognition when something novel comes into view, and to accepting that something new is not impossible. This could happen for an individual scientist long-experienced in her field who remains persistent: one who has assembled enough evidence over time to make a new claim. Or it could happen when a scientist crosses fields and solves a problem far from her home domain, who steps over a line to speak to a new audience. It turns out that breakthroughs in content (papers, methods, concepts, patents) are indeed prodded by new context (input from a faraway technological discipline).

There are two types of novel discoveries or inventions. The first kind is a new idea, device, or development that may have been considered or attempted before but never succeeded. In this sense, innovations in science follow from new combinations of prior knowledge. New content appears and surprises, usually introduced by persons already in the given field of study. The cognitive process is straightforward: Scientists and inventors combine designs, devices, or thoughts that are (1) scientifically or technologically adjacent and (2) cognitively salient. This kind of discovery or invention suggests there is a space of latent knowledge, and researchers tend to wander locally across this space, generating new papers and patents.

Science is always social, but surprise arises from unforeseen amalgams.

A second kind of discovery is one that may never have been attempted or even imagined. In these cases—a new type of chemical compound for instance—content and context get mixed. The most surprising successes occur not through interdisciplinary careers or multi-disciplinary teams but when scientists from one disciplinary context travel to another. There is an unexpected transdisciplinary conversation. When scientists from different fields interact, unfamiliar insights and perspectives can have a substantial impact. Science is always social, but surprise arises from unforeseen amalgams.

Nearly fifty years ago, Horace Judson in “The Eighth Day of Creation: Makers of the Revolution in Biology” suggested that the great advances in biochemical genetics and molecular biology were accelerated by the mixing of physicists and chemists with cell biologists, leading to an expanded set of technologies and experimental approaches. “Molecular biology arose in the synthesis of particular lines from five distinct disciplines … genetics, X-ray crystallography, microbiology, biochemistry, and physical chemistry,” according to Judson. Radioisotopes met ribosomes to get at how proteins were made.

Judson’s intuition was supported recently when, following analysis of millions of papers and patents, investigators provided evidence that the most cited and impactful work is produced by researchers working outside their disciplines, writing in journals they have never published in before. These same investigators have introduced the concept of a “knowledge expedition,” wherein scientists from one intellectual region travel to a distant other to address a question framed by scientists outside their field. These expeditions are distinct from interdisciplinary or multi-disciplinary teamwork. The crossover increases the likelihood that the new work, a new approach, will disrupt the frontier and refocus scientific attention in the invaded field.

What is the cause or precipitant of such an intellectual expedition? Perhaps it is a matter of institutional structure and permission. Or that a few insightful scientists have formidable energy and conviction. What are the qualities of these scientific gatecrashers who show up uninvited at an out-of-town party? Are they restless? Can they throw a wider mental net than others? Do they need to have a level of comfort with uncertainty, ignorance, and being wrong that allows openness to surprise? Perhaps if knowledge expeditions can reliably produce surprising advances, transdisciplinary ventures could be incentivized or at least made a goal for graduate education, tilting the playing field in the direction of innovation in science.

Previously in Observing Science: Science and Technology