I went to my monthly lunch with my friends from St. Paul's Advanced Studies 1970. These are some of the smartest people I have ever known. MIT, Williams, Bucknell - plus graduate degrees. They are the math and chemistry mavens, I was the Theatre & Speech major at the bottom of my undergraduate class. We are all 73. One is still working, in closely-guarded Minotaur AI stuff and has to keep learning incomprehensible new things for his job - but his exit is in sight. The others are now all hobbies, travel, humor, and pontificating. I sort of get it.
I keep bringing and sending interesting things to them. Today is was Tyler Cowan's interview with Terence Tao. Paragraph after paragraph of fascinating concepts. New takes on old subjects. Introductions to new subjects. Deep humility from a child prodigy who is now 51, perhaps the greatest living mathematician. None were interested. Okay, it is old friends talking, and I am as much a nostalgist as any of them, or more. I have tried these high-concept things before, seldom with success - or never. I usually just send along the link after, because these things are just so fascinating, that how could they not...
But never a comment, never a followup - I doubt that they read them, on any subject. To me it seems that their lives have narrowed, gotten smaller. But...but...they are smarter than I am. How did this happen at the tender age of 73? I think of other groups of smart old people, of which I am in many and see the same pattern. They may have some interest in developments in their own field, but little outside of it. I don't try to be curious about new things. That is one of the bits of advice that Weird Trick businesses tell you about staving off Alzheimer's: Learn new things! Pick up a musical instrument. Learn a new language. Do crossword puzzles. None of those things have any causative effect, BTW. They are only associations. People who are dementing gradually stop picking up new instruments. You can't force it, same as with exposing children to a wide range of cognitive skills, which looks like it should work, but doesn't.
It was always this way. I was math/folksinger in highschool. I switched from math to theater to medieval literature in college. I spent my career in mental health, and early only, applied to divinity school, took course for an MSW, and I swear there was some other subject I looked at grad school for. If I had to do over, I would major in evolutionary psychology and writing, but with an eye toward making a living in sports statistics, which was up and coming them. But most likely, if I had to do over again I would find some seventh thing to concentrate on and switch to. Early computer games, maybe. Historical linguistics.
I have been moderately proud of this over the years, but also aware that there is more dilettante than Renaissance Man about this. Over the last decade, I have become even more suspicious of it. It is quite involuntary, like a dog distracted by smells. Curiosity is something I have, not something I pursue. My friends are more likely to be right than I am. Picking up something new has what use, in the end? Who benefits? Just a previously useful tendency, likely squandered, now gone rogue. I think it still has entertainment value. Distribution of knowledge, not so much.
Here, have an almond cluster that used to be popular in the late 1700s. Take two, they're small. The word for them comes from Arabic via Italian...
