Physicists and artists have a lot more in common than most people might initially think. This is especially true for the physicist engaged in basic research and theory. I argue that, for example, there is little practical differentiation between the creations of an avant-garde artist and a string theorist for most of society. Both pursue their interpretations of life and nature with exotic tools, a cultivated sense of aesthetics, and through the creation of works generally inaccessible to all but a rarefied group of aficionados. Small wonder then that physicists and artists can face similar problems making a living.
I always had a sense that this was true, but I did not appreciate the true depth of the parallels until I recently stumbled across this article: The Death of the Artist – and the Birth of the Creative Entrepreneur by William Deresiewicz. The subtitle to the article is something that, with a few minor tweaks, could just as easily describe the evolution of the image of the physicist:
Hard-working artisan, solitary genius, credentialed professional—the image of the artist has changed radically over the centuries. What if the latest model to emerge means the end of art as we have known it?
We physicists have taken a parallel trajectory for similar reasons. The factor forcing change in both cases is aptly described in the middle of the text: “Artisan, genius, professional: underlying all these models is the market. In blunter terms, they’re all about the way that you get paid.” Indeed, many physicists and artists might put on a show of disregard for the plebeian concerns of getting paid, but those concerns quietly structure the entire profession behind the scenes.
Historically, the fortunes of artisans and solitary geniuses in both the arts and sciences revolved around the patron. Neither calling paid the bills under normal circumstances, so, unless the individual in question was born to money, they had to seek out a patron to support them. That was the extent of the market for their services and it often took great feats of ingenuity and guile to be successful in that marketplace. For instance, Galileo’s discovery of the moons of Jupiter is very well remember. Less recalled is the fact that he originally named them the Medicean stars as part of a rather deliberate (and successful) strategy to court the patronage of the fabulous wealthy Medici family.
It is only in relatively recent times that the physicists entered the ranks of the credentialed professional through degrees like the PhD. The degree of Doctor of Philosophy (PhD) based on original research and the defense of a dissertation only came into existence in the 19th century. Likewise, the advent of national governments as patrons (mostly of science, but also for the arts) is rather recent in historical terms. The life-long national laboratory job with a steady paycheck and pension plan is clearly a 20th century invention. This new incarnation of the patron model offered a much larger and more liquid market for the services of professional physicists.
In the 21st century, Deresiewicz notes that for artists “The institutions that have undergirded the existing system are contracting or disintegrating.” Subsequently, the modern artist increasingly needs to deal with market forces directly as a “creative entrepreneur.” This is almost exactly the same situation facing contemporary physicists. Academic, national laboratory, and large corporate jobs (at least the secure ones) are in decline while adjuncts, temporary contracts, startups, and self-employment steadily rise. The individual physicist, like the individual artist, therefore finds themselves in increasing need of entrepreneurial skills to guide their own career.