The past year has been extraordinary. A new era started for Betsy and me on October 5, 2004 at 5:11 AM when Betsy interrupted my shower to hand me our cordless telephone, saying A lady with a beautiful voice wants to talk to you. I think she has a Swedish accent. I had hoped to hear, some day, from the Nobel committee, anticipating that this conversation would be of the form Congratulations, youve won the Nobel Prize, goodbye. Now I can tell you, that isnt how it happens. Quite a few dignitaries, friends, colleagues and journalists all wanted to talk, and under the circumstances I was happy to oblige them despite being completely naked and dripping wet. The next thing was to call my parents with the news; that was one of the high points of my entire life.
The festivities in Stockholm, last December, were a week of wonders. After each event, Id think Nothing can equal that, and then the next event would equal it. It climaxed with the rites of the Order of the Ever Smiling and Jumping Green Frog. I was delighted to see that our invitation tonight indicated Black Tie and Decorations, since it gave me the opportunity to display my only decoration, which is the magnificent green metal frog I got there. To earn it, I had to pass a series of tests, similar in spirit to the Masonic rituals you see in The Magic Flute, but choreographed by the Marx Brothers, rather than Mozart. That, finally, was an event that couldnt be equaled. From there we went north to Kiruna, where we stayed at the ice hotel before returning home.
From them until now has been a year full of many varied events, ranging from addressing elementary school classes to hobnobbing with the rich and famous. Ill forego name-dropping here, with one exception: I got to meet Yogi Berra. Recently I remarked to Betsy that I feel weve lived half our lives in the past year. That might be an illustration of the theory of relativity, or maybe an exaggeration, but for sure more than half our photos are from the last year.
Im extremely grateful to Alfred Nobel and the people of Sweden for making it all possible.
But now Id like to probe a little deeper.
For all the fun, the most profoundly gratifying thing Ive experienced since winning the Nobel prize has been an outpouring of interest and affection from the general public, and from my colleagues even from my rivals and competitors. This is not meant for me personally, I know. I didnt suddenly metamorphose into another kind of being on October 5, 2004, or do anything at all. And most people, even physicists, dont really understand the work that the prize was for.
When Einstein arrived in New York in the early 20s, his boat was met by cheering crowds. Einstein was pleased, but also astonished by this phenomenon. He asked Charlie Chaplin, who was traveling with him, What does all this mean? Chaplin replied: Nothing. I think Chaplin was wrong about that.
So what does it mean?
Many kinds of rewards are given to people for tangible services rendered. These rewards take the form of salaries, profits, social status, and so forth. But the accumulated wealth of science and literature, and the blessing of peace, often derive from efforts whose ultimate value isnt immediately obvious. Even in cases where the real importance of some breakthrough is clear, it still might take years before the work yields any economic benefit; or, especially in literature, there may never be any conventional economic benefit at all. People who work toward increasing this special kind of wealth are devoting their careers to extremely long-term investments in the improvement of life for humanity as a whole. And what hardheaded businessperson or consumer will pay for that?
Yet history teaches us that such devotion to the long-term, and to the common good, pays off. The basic science of today becomes the technology of the future; the challenging literature of today provides the classics of the future; the difficult statecraft of today ensures the peace and prosperity of the future.
Part of the genius of Alfred Nobel and his prizes, as perfected by his successors at the Foundation and the people of Sweden, was to find a special way to recognize and encourage that kind of devotion. And I think that is what Einstein and Chaplins crowd, and the many people whove treated me so warmly over the past year, are responding to. So in that spirit I thank all involved not just for myself, but on behalf of all humanity, and on behalf of future generations.
Frank Wilczek, after-dinner remarks at the Swedish Consulate, New York City, 10 December 2005.