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Feb. 29, 2008

The ability to create and destroy

In Should've, Roald Hoffmann holds scientists and artists accountable for their actions.
CYNTHIA RAMSAY

"Molecules are molecules. Chemists and engineers make new ones, transform old ones. Still others in the economic chain sell them, and we all want them and use them. Each of us has a potential or real role in the use and misuse of chemicals," Cornell University chemist and Nobel laureate Dr. Roald Hoffmann told the Independent in an e-mail interview.

"We are sentenced by our nature to create," continued the professor, who is also a playwright and a poet. "There is no way to avoid investigation of what is in or around us. If you don't find that molecule, someone else will – there is no way to hide a facile synthesis of an immunosuppresant that saves, or a potent narcotic that destroys. At the same time, I believe that, as we create and, in doing so testify that we are human and alive, we also have responsibility for thinking about the uses of our creation. Even of abuses by others. And, importantly, we have the responsibility of voicing our concerns."

Hoffmann does just that in Should've, which opens in Vancouver at the University of British Columbia next week. When the play begins, Friedrich Wertheim, a German-born chemist, has just taken his own life, unable to live with the guilt of having facilitated a terrorist's use of a neurotoxin to kill hundreds of people.

"What about the ethical neutrality of science?" said Hoffmann, as further explanation to the Independent's question about the social responsibility of scientists, one of the themes of Should've. "I think this seductive phrasing of the question leads one away from the essential ethical consideration, by partitioning an object and the human being that created it. I believe, and there is some philosophical tradition that supports this, that in any action by a human being, the instrument of that action (a gun made or fired, a molecule synthesized and sold, yes, even a mathematical equation or a poem) must be accompanied by a moral judgment. The judgment is: 'Will the use of that instrument by me (or by others) hurt people, or not?' The invention or implementation of a tool without consideration of the consequences of its use is deeply incomplete."

This is a concern about which Hoffmann has direct knowledge and experience through his work. In his biography, "applied theoretical chemistry" is used to describe "the particular blend of computations stimulated by experiment and the construction of generalized models, of frameworks for understanding," that is Hoffmann's contribution to chemistry. "In more than 450 scientific articles and two books," reads the bio, "he has taught the chemical community new and useful ways to look at the geometry and reactivity of molecules, from organic through inorganic to infinitely extended structures."

In this vein, Hoffmann participated in the production of a course about chemistry, The World of Chemistry, which comprised 26 half-hour television programs developed at the University of Maryland and produced by Richard Thomas: it has been aired on PBS and shown widely abroad since 1990. In addition to being the only person ever to have received American Chemical Society awards in three different specific subfields of chemistry, Hoffmann shared the Nobel Prize in chemistry with Kenichi Fukui in 1981 "for their theories, developed independently, concerning the course of chemical reactions."

When asked by the Independent what drew him to his chosen field, Hoffmann said, "Not much – it's the only subject in which in HS [high school] I did not take an advanced course. Only research in summers kept me in chemistry. I didn't decide until midway through my PhD that I really wanted to do chemistry. But then I made a commitment, and I don't regret it, I love my science. I love its mixture of fuzziness and exactness, I love its emphasis on making things – synthesis, on creation as much as discovery."

This sentiment partially explains how Hoffmann, the scientist, manages with relative ease also to be a prolific and accomplished writer in various styles and forms. In describing what are often considered as distinct entities, Hoffmann said, "There are similarities between sciences and arts, and some differences. Both seek to make sense of the world within and around us; perhaps the way in which success at what they strive for is measured is more cognitive in science, more emotion in the arts. But both share a valuation of human creation (nothing 'natural' about a poem or a song), done with craftsmanship, with an economy of statement or intensity. Both striv[e] to communicate to other human beings. Both [are] a curious mélange of selfishness and altruism, with some elements of a shared esthetic."

Hoffmann holds both scientists and artists to account in Should've.

"For Hoffmann, one of modern chemistry's intellectual fixtures and a Holocaust survivor whose family history was tragically shaped by Hitler's use of both deadly chemicals and a propaganda machine fuelled by artists, denying the potential nefarious applications of well-intentioned creation or research of any kind is not an option," says the play's promotional material.

"I am an atheist, with an unusual respect for religious thinking and a feeling for ritual," Hoffmann told the Independent. "I am very Jewish, but not religious. No doubt the wartime experiences affected me, in deep and superficial ways. I am still trying to figure out how."

As the action in Should've progresses, it becomes apparent that there may have been an additional motive for Wertheim's suicide. The process of discovery in the play is driven by the three people who are most affected by Wertheim's death – his daughter, Katie (a scientist), her companion, Stefan (an artist), and Wertheim's ex-wife, Julia. They are described as people "who resist the transforming power of death."

Explained Hoffmann, "When someone dies, questions open up, deep feelings from the past emerge. People reexamine their lives. I've seen siblings quarrel over a lamp from a parent and the quarrel isn't about the lamp, it's about how the parents treated them."

The local production of Should've kicks off Celebrate Research Week at UBC and marks the reopening of the chemistry department's restored historic Centre Block, the first building constructed on the university's Point Grey campus. Presented as part of the UBC centenary programming, performances will take place at the Frederic Wood Theatre, 6354 Crescent Rd., UBC, March 4-8, 7:30 p.m. Tickets are $10/$14/$20 and can be purchased at 604-822-2678 or www.theatre.ubc.ca. Hoffmann will participate in a talk-back session after the play on March 4.

For more information about the centenary, visit www.100.ubc. ca; for Celebrate Research Week, go to www.research.ubc.ca/CRW. Hoffmann has his own website, www.roaldhoffmann.com, on which there is, among many other interesting pieces of information, the full text of Should've

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