Humility and the Scholar’s Life

I have a vivid memory of guiding a PhD student’s consideration of a dissertation topic some years ago. The plan started out as tackling multiple current controversies in the field and then unifying the solutions into a new theory. There was conceptual work, data collection, and statistical analysis involved. The student was very bright and a strong performer in graduate classes, but all signs pointed to dangers.

The memorability of the events stem from the length of time required to pare down the student’s ambitions. Over weeks, we together probed in detail each of the controversies the student aspired to solve, in long talks about necessary arguments and evidence. Of course, these talks were dispiriting for the student, as piece by piece, the plan to renovate the entire field melted away.

Eventually, however, a new plan emerged — a solid, novel, do-able contribution to the field. The student executed the plan competently and succeed in defending the dissertation on time.

I recall a similar lesson for myself — research requires a deep humility to succeed.

That last sentence itself may seem to contradict the examples of scientific and creative pathbreaking achievements that are easily documented (cubism in art, the Higgs Boson experimental evidence). On their surface, these don’t seem to be based on humility by the scholars. Achieving dramatic breakthroughs often, in retrospect, is the culmination of many prior failures and many prior small successes. Indeed, the roots of transformative research results often lie in findings that are humble building blocks. While the “north star” of the research might be quite bold and transformative, the constituent work is not.

So, to clarify, humility is not necessarily useful when determining the question or challenge to pursue in one’s scholarship. Instead, bold thinking is often required. However, the humility is required in discerning what questions or challenges are both important to pursue and amenable to success. Indeed, one of the rarest traits in those new to research is identifying a question that is possible to answer, but whose answer will be an important contribution to human understanding.

This may be an asset in most human endeavors, not just research. I once asked a CEO of a large enterprise what were his greatest challenges in growing the company. He answered that it was hiring staff that asked the right questions. Once the question was articulated, it was much easier for him to find the way forward. So too, with research. A large part of success requires discerning the right question.

What’s the evidence of the need for humility? After all, the apparent arrogance of intellectual elites is well-documented. They don’t appear too humble to the average person. To combat that tendency, fields often have strong norms of reporting limitations of the research reported. This is common to fields that are article-based, often with papers ending with sections labeled “Limitations” followed by “Summary.” Of course, in seminar presentations among academic peers, much of the session is given to give-and-take critiques of the results. That context also brings some humility to the behavior of academics, albeit with less self-generated features. More generally, peer-review is often an external influence on humility.

In short, bold aspirations are often important to sustaining energy for the research. But approaching one’s research with humility is an assist to avoiding overreach. A subordination of one’s ego to the work of the research often supports the day-to-day research activities despite their humble immediate goals.