The Museum of John Austin

John Austin is an award-winning research scientist, on his own, and as one of the co-winners of the 2007 Nobel Peace Prize. His main interest is the connection between ozone depletion and climate change.

John is the first curator of a personal imaginary museum to be featured in this occasional series, "The Museum of …". Here's how he answered the question: If you could create a Museum of John Austin, what three things would be in it, and why?

1. A chess set

I have played chess for as long as I can remember, certainly over 40 years.

Chess is a metaphor for life in many ways. The struggle on the board is reminiscent of struggles that often take place between people. But my real love affair with the game I think comes from the fact that a few very simple moves (pawns move slowly forward, bishops on diagonals, etc.) can transform a game into incredibly complex and beautiful structures. I'm not a particularly strong chess player, and I am getting weaker with age (!), but I do have the modest ability to follow and understand some of the great games by grandmasters. That for me is part of the pleasure of other aspects of life, trying to appreciate the essence of particular human activities and natural events.

The "science of complexity" has been reinforced in my scientific career. Climate prediction involves the use of computer models containing perhaps hundreds of different processes. These can't be included exactly, because of the cost of computer time, but are usually described in simple linearised physics. Again, very simple rules combine to bring out the tremendous complexity we see in the Earth's weather.

2. A camera

There are no metaphors here, but I have always enjoyed photography. When I was young, serious cameras were too expensive, and it was a great frustration to me. I really wanted to photograph insects and other animals, but I couldn't afford the equipment. Once I started work, this was no longer an issue, and much of my photography started out (and still is) taking landscapes during my many travels. Of course once I became good enough at my job, I was able to travel internationally through work and now I always take a camera with me.

Right from the beginning, I was always interested in quality. Actually it's a sort of weakness, my compulsiveness to explore things to the limit. It took me a long time to transition to digital photography. It was only once affordable cameras of the order of 10 MPixel became available that I finally gave up chemical photography and for me that was only about 5 years ago. But you won't see me taking pictures with a telephone. I use a digital SLR of course!

I suppose in many marriages having an obsessive photographer on the family travels could be a nuisance. My wife Alda, though, always shared this passion. So, we have identical cameras, and on our trips often take identical photos of the scenery. It is a little bit of competition between us to see who can come up with the best photos. Unfortunately, Alda usually wins. In the past it has also not been unusual for us to arrive at a location only to find that the light conditions were not right, or for there to be obstacles in the picture that we wanted. We would then stay there and wait 5 minutes or whatever it takes for the picture to improve. What spouses would put up with that?

3. A pair of chopsticks

Chopsticks are inefficient ways of eating food, a fork is better, or knife and fork better still. I often watch (western) people in Asian restaurants eating with chopsticks.
It is quite amusing as they often don't get it right and stab around or hold the sticks at awkward angles. You can probably learn how to use chopsticks by looking it up on the Internet. I learnt from my travels in Japan, by watching the locals.

I went to S. Korea in 1988 and later I went to Japan in about 1991. I have generally visited Japan every year or two ever since,  for scientific conferences. At first Japan is so alien to the western life style. The first shock is that you are functionally illiterate there. The second shock is that the food is very different. I didn't enjoy my first few visits there, but it is worth persevering as the Japanese people are friendly and helpful beneath a reserved exterior. Over the years, spending a week each time, I have acquired a reasonable skill with the chopsticks. One test is whether you can pick up a single grain of rice and eat it. Tick!

In 2010 I had my first trip to China, again at the invitation of a university there. They were extremely hospitable, almost embarrassingly so. During our meals together, I apparently seemed a bit eccentric compared with what they were expecting. First of all, I could handle the chopsticks but I was also unique in using them in my left hand, which is the one I write with.

Of course the chopsticks are not real, they are metaphoric, showing a tendency on my part to embrace cultures and environments. I have been living in the USA since 2003, and I can assure you this is a foreign country to me! I have embraced it, if not always understood it. One of the trivial skills that I have acquired is simply being able to drive on either side of the road, depending on local custom. Actually, I find it very easy to change sides and I think most people would. All the same, most people think it is quite difficult.

Perhaps that's another metaphor that my chopsticks represent: no matter how different we are (chopsticks versus knife and fork; left hand versus right hand drive cars) under the surface people are fundamentally the same. This is one of the truisms that one acquires through travel and it is a great pleasure to find those similarities.