Making space for incidental inspiration (also known as, why we all need to take more baths)
Isaac Newton was sitting outside, admiring the world, when an apple suddenly landed on his head, leading him to develop the theory of gravity. More recent versions of this story suggest that, in fact, no apple landed on Newton’s head; rather, he observed apples falling from the tree. But it doesn’t really matter.
What matters is this: when Newton discovered gravity, he wasn’t in a lab, or running experiments. He was out in the world, in nature, doing something completely incidental, when he had a thought — ‘why do apples always fall downwards?’. This question, and the answer that he devised in response, led to a ground-breaking advancement in modern physics.
Archimedes, an ancient Greek scholar, was taking a bath when he noticed that the water level rose. While it’s not clear how much is myth and how much is truth, the story goes that, on noticing this change, he exclaimed ‘Eureka!’ and ran down the street in his towel, having suddenly understood that the volume of water displaced must be equal to the volume of the part of his body he had submerged.
Again, Archimedes wasn’t at his desk, steeped in books, and surrounded by his fellow scholars when he had this epiphany. He was engaging in a regular, routine ritual of taking a bath.
Both of these stories point to the fact that, sometimes, great ideas come from unexpected places.
In a busy world, with busy lives, it is easy to lose sight of this. Often, simply staying on top of the reading, talks and conferences that are directly relevant to your field of work feels overwhelming. But it’s so important to make space in our lives to explore different fields, and to carve out time to engage in events and activities that aren’t directly or obviously connected to our fields of expertise.
I was struck by this when I recently visited the Wellcome Collection. I came across a “Phototherapy Manifesto” created by two artists, Jo Spence and Rosy Martin in 1983.
The Manifesto compares Portraiture to Phototherapy and looks something like this*:
As I looked at the Phototherapy Manifesto, I began to notice ideas and principles expressed in the Manifesto, which felt deeply relevant to my work.
Many of the principles of Phototherapy — although completed unrelated to my field — appear to mirror the ideas and approaches which are informing my thinking and practice, as well as those around me, who are passionate about reimagining government and governance.
Here is the Manifesto again, this time with a third column added, showing this connection.
I wasn’t at the Wellcome Collection because it was related to my job; I was there because someone had told me it was really interesting, I had time and I was curious.
Nevertheless, I walked away with a new way of thinking about my own work, and a renewed appreciation for the role that different disciplines can play in helping us to discover new ways of understanding and thinking about the jobs we do every day.
One more story.
I recently started reading “An American Marriage”, a novel by Tayari Jones. She starts the book with the following,
“An American Marriage is a love story I found in the mall, of all places. Sitting in the food court, I overheard a young couple arguing in hushed tones”.
Jones goes on to explain how overhearing this conversation activated her imagination and led her to write a novel, which is now widely acclaimed, once again highlighting that great ideas can emerge from unlikely places.
Of course, I am not suggesting that the only way to make advancements in a field is through random moments of serendipity; rather, I am suggesting that is important to carve out some time for incidental inspiration.
We all need to make sure that we’re making space in our lives to find great ideas in unexpected places.
Take out your earphones and look up in the train — look at people’s faces and listen to conversations. Read novels. Sit in the park and stare at trees. And make time for baths. Who knows what you’ll discover.