Plot Summary
Why
Mario Livio
Why
Nonfiction | Book | Adult | Published in 2017
Plot Summary
Why?: What Makes Us Curious is a nonfiction book by Israeli American astrophysicist and author Mario Livio, first published in 2017 by Simon & Schuster. In it, Livio explores the concept of curiosity and what makes humans such innately curious creatures. Blending psychology, neuroscience, and history, and drawing from dozens of interviews and hundreds of studies, Livio presents an examination that not only plumbs what it means to be curious, but also delves into the biological mechanisms that trigger and drive curiosity in the first place.
Much of Livio's research relies on principles first established by psychologist and philosopher Daniel Berlyne. Berlyne defined curiosity as existing in two dimensions. One dimension runs from epistemic curiosity, or the desire for knowledge, to perceptual curiosity, a term used to describe a person's focus on novel objects in their immediate environment. The second dimension starts on one end of the axis with specific curiosity, which is a specific desire for a specific bit of knowledge, to diverse curiosity on the other, which is a broader kind of curiosity in which people seek stimulation to occupy their mind, often, when they feel ready to expand their intellectual horizons.
Livio goes on to discuss how these various points manifest themselves in human lives, using real historical people as examples. Among the famous figures whose lives and work demonstrate their various incarnations of curiosity: artist Leonardo da Vinci, physicists Richard Feynman and Freeman Dyson, astronaut Story Musgrave, and Queen guitarist—and noted astrophysicist—Brian May. To illustrate just one example, Musgrave's multiple advanced degrees—including an M.D., an M.S. in physiology and biophysics, and an M.A. in literature—are the result of his varied interests ("One thing led to another," he once explained) and his classic diverse curiosity.
Livio also draws from literature to bring his analyses to life. He finds themes of curiosity in Kate Chopin's short story "The Story of an Hour"; in fairy tales such as Sleeping Beauty and Hansel and Gretel; in little-known (but surprisingly grisly) folklore; and in the Biblical story of Adam and Eve—perhaps the most famous tale of the human penchant for curiosity and what can sometimes go wrong when one follows curiosity to its logical end.
This darkness, too, does not escape Livio's lens. Curiosity is a trait that can feel threatening to some people, leading as it does to knowledge. From the perspective of tyrants and despots, curiosity, then, is a destructive force that endangers their positions of power. This is why authoritarian regimes and terrorist groups do things such as burn books, destroy works of art, and prevent marginalized populations from obtaining an education. Books, art, and education encourage curiosity, which begets knowledge…and knowledge is the death knell of the autocrat.
At its heart, Livio says, curiosity is as central to human nature as loving and learning and breathing. Humans are unique among animals in that we are the only species whose brains hunger for information. Livio calls the human race "infovores," meaning we are literally hardwired for curiosity. Animals don't investigate or manipulate things in their environments to the extent that humans do, at least not for the purposes of learning. For survival, yes, but not solely for learning. Compare that to a human child, occupied for hours on end by toys and games and devices that compel a seemingly endless curiosity for more.
Livio recognizes, however, that there are limits to curiosity. For information to truly generate curiosity, it can neither be too simplistic nor too complex. There is a middle ground, a sort of intellectual sweet spot, that draws us toward information which offers enough interest for us to want to learn more, but not so much information as to overwhelm or bore us. But, oh, when that delicate balance is struck, phenomenal things can happen (see da Vinci, Musgrave, May, etc.).
And what about the physical brain? Is there a physiological epicenter of curiosity inside the human brain, some mechanism that takes it out of the realm of the philosophical "mind" and places it firmly into the territory of the biological? These are questions that interest Livio as well, as he combs through a series of in-depth studies on the emerging scholarship in this newfound aspect of neuroscience. The evidence seems to put to the verdict that our brains indeed contain biological drivers of our need for curiosity.
Ultimately, the human proclivity for curiosity is not an anomaly possessed by a few remarkable individuals or a handful of learned academics. Curiosity is available to anyone, at any given time. It can occupy a few minutes or an afternoon. It can consume an entire life. In some cases, it can even change the world. Albert Einstein once said, "I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious."
Much of Livio's research relies on principles first established by psychologist and philosopher Daniel Berlyne. Berlyne defined curiosity as existing in two dimensions. One dimension runs from epistemic curiosity, or the desire for knowledge, to perceptual curiosity, a term used to describe a person's focus on novel objects in their immediate environment. The second dimension starts on one end of the axis with specific curiosity, which is a specific desire for a specific bit of knowledge, to diverse curiosity on the other, which is a broader kind of curiosity in which people seek stimulation to occupy their mind, often, when they feel ready to expand their intellectual horizons.
Livio goes on to discuss how these various points manifest themselves in human lives, using real historical people as examples. Among the famous figures whose lives and work demonstrate their various incarnations of curiosity: artist Leonardo da Vinci, physicists Richard Feynman and Freeman Dyson, astronaut Story Musgrave, and Queen guitarist—and noted astrophysicist—Brian May. To illustrate just one example, Musgrave's multiple advanced degrees—including an M.D., an M.S. in physiology and biophysics, and an M.A. in literature—are the result of his varied interests ("One thing led to another," he once explained) and his classic diverse curiosity.
Livio also draws from literature to bring his analyses to life. He finds themes of curiosity in Kate Chopin's short story "The Story of an Hour"; in fairy tales such as Sleeping Beauty and Hansel and Gretel; in little-known (but surprisingly grisly) folklore; and in the Biblical story of Adam and Eve—perhaps the most famous tale of the human penchant for curiosity and what can sometimes go wrong when one follows curiosity to its logical end.
This darkness, too, does not escape Livio's lens. Curiosity is a trait that can feel threatening to some people, leading as it does to knowledge. From the perspective of tyrants and despots, curiosity, then, is a destructive force that endangers their positions of power. This is why authoritarian regimes and terrorist groups do things such as burn books, destroy works of art, and prevent marginalized populations from obtaining an education. Books, art, and education encourage curiosity, which begets knowledge…and knowledge is the death knell of the autocrat.
At its heart, Livio says, curiosity is as central to human nature as loving and learning and breathing. Humans are unique among animals in that we are the only species whose brains hunger for information. Livio calls the human race "infovores," meaning we are literally hardwired for curiosity. Animals don't investigate or manipulate things in their environments to the extent that humans do, at least not for the purposes of learning. For survival, yes, but not solely for learning. Compare that to a human child, occupied for hours on end by toys and games and devices that compel a seemingly endless curiosity for more.
Livio recognizes, however, that there are limits to curiosity. For information to truly generate curiosity, it can neither be too simplistic nor too complex. There is a middle ground, a sort of intellectual sweet spot, that draws us toward information which offers enough interest for us to want to learn more, but not so much information as to overwhelm or bore us. But, oh, when that delicate balance is struck, phenomenal things can happen (see da Vinci, Musgrave, May, etc.).
And what about the physical brain? Is there a physiological epicenter of curiosity inside the human brain, some mechanism that takes it out of the realm of the philosophical "mind" and places it firmly into the territory of the biological? These are questions that interest Livio as well, as he combs through a series of in-depth studies on the emerging scholarship in this newfound aspect of neuroscience. The evidence seems to put to the verdict that our brains indeed contain biological drivers of our need for curiosity.
Ultimately, the human proclivity for curiosity is not an anomaly possessed by a few remarkable individuals or a handful of learned academics. Curiosity is available to anyone, at any given time. It can occupy a few minutes or an afternoon. It can consume an entire life. In some cases, it can even change the world. Albert Einstein once said, "I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious."