PSU Magazine Fall 1993

"but I can get the same answer intui– tive ly." That's why S inha invited PSU physics Profe sor Jack Semu ra to spend part of the summe r working with him at Los Alamos. Semura is a theoreti cal phy ic ist, in contrast to Sinha's more experimental orientation, and is inter– e red in refining the theories behind Sinha's conceptual leaps. He admires S inha's creative imagination. "He's known as the res ident guru ," Semura says. "People come and ask him stuff and he suggests new ways of solv– ing problems. Give him a prob lem and he thinks up a who le bunch of new approaches." Sinha is repre entati ve of a whole breed of sc ientists, or rather an aspect of doing science, that doesn't get much press. Much of the public-espec ially the student population- uffe rs from the notion that the sc ientific method rests entirely on dry logic and rigorous experimentation. Actually, these elements are often applied after the significant idea arrives through ome non-rational proces . Sinha takes a kind of experi enti al approach to questions of subatomic phys ics. "I try to visualize everything, to look in three dimensions," he says. "If I'm looking at a solid, I like to put myself where the electron is and just stare. I get the answer. I don 't know how it works, I can 't explain it." Science textbooks and curricula se l– dom emphas ize the role of intuition in the practice of sc ience, yet some of the greate t minds of the century-Albert Einstein, Linus Pauling, the brilliant Indian mathematician Ramanuj an– worked primarily as creative generators of ideas, the details of which often had to be worked out later by more syste– matic minds. Semura and S inha fee l they make a good team because between them they can work on all three element of ·cientific discovery: intuition, theory, and experiment. Like hi~ work, S inha's caree r path has been marked by serendipity. He grew up in a mall mountain town near a copper mine in eastern India, where his fa ther was a hospital administrator. His mother, who had a high school education and an inte nse interest in lea rning fo r its own sake, encouraged h im to become a phys icist. She didn't know preci ely what a phys icist did , and neither did her son. But she instilled in him a trong feeling that physics was a noble profe sion and that he must work fo r the betterment of humankind . He ea rn ed hi bachelor's, master's, and postgraduate ce rtificate in physics in India and in 1973 resolved to come to the Uni ted State fo r a doctorate. "I had randomly app lied," he remem– bers. "I didn't know which was a good or bad school." He rece ived offe rs from the major physics programs in the country, bu t decided to turn them down when his father objected to his leav ing India. Later that yea r he rea l– ized he reall y did want to study in the Uni ted States, but without a teaching fel lowship he couldn't afford to come. '' Sinha spent his first night as a PSU student wrapped in a blanket in a corner of the security office. '' Eventually he met a couple of American profe ors touring India who as ured him they would help him find a place to study in thi country. Not long after that, S inha rece ived an invitation from PSU, which he accepted. His first experience in Portland might have discouraged any new student, let alone one who had tra veled halfway around the world with eight dollars in his pocket and a shaky command of English. When Sinha arrived in Portland , he asked a cab driver to take him to the PSU campus. The cabbie first assured him that there was no such thing as Portl and ra te University and then delivered him to the campus security office-taking five of his prec ious dollars fo r his ra ther con– fusing help. Sinha spent his first night as a PSU student wrapped in a blanket in a corner of the securi ty office. After his inauspicious introduction to PSU, S inha went on to do his doctora l work stud ying low-tempera– ture phase changes in helium , uper– vised by Professor Semu ra and emeritus Professor Larry Brod ie. From PSU he went d irectly to Los A lamo , the first candidate from a small school to be appoin ted to a two-year fe llowshi p. He worked out so we ll that the laboratory extended his fe llowship fo r a thi rd year and ha now expanded its recru itment of sma ll- chool app licant . Thirteen years later, Sinha expresses deep sa tisfaction at the direction his career has taken him. He's espec ially adamant that h is early experience with mul tidisciplinary learning opened up new worlds of inquiry, and he warns of the dange rs of overspecialization. For one thing, he says, a sc ientist with too narrow a foc us may run into an intellec– t ual cul-de-sac and ru n out of ideas. For another, the employment picture now demands flex ibility. "From a ve ry practi ca l po int of view, you're not go ing to get a job if you pe– cialize too much," he ays. "One really has to learn to adapt. Employers don 't want to hire peop le unless they can be tra ined to so lve the prob lems at hand ." Sinha consults with many pri vate businesses in addition to his work with international disarmament. He see the effects of military downsizing and increa ing economic uncertainty. During the Cold War year , sc ien tists were encouraged to confine their inter– ests to very specialized niches. Today things are ve ry different. As the military- indu trial complex reshapes itse lf and new technologies continue to burgeon, sc ienti ts must be will ing to ask different sc ientific questions in a different economic envi ronment. Sinha is not only willing, but enthusiastic. Although he dragged hi feet as a young student, inha now relishes the chall enge of wide- ranging inquiry. He also remains commi tted to his mother's instruction to use sc ience a a fo rce for good. "I don't even claim what I am any more," he says. "I have no specialty. I'm just a searcher fo r truth ." D (Va lerie Brown is a Portland freelance writer.) FALL 1993 9