Feynman's Advice: Play More!

Feynman’s Advice: Play More!

A “childlike” curiosity can be useful in intellectual work: notice something unfamiliar, ask why it happens, and explore without first demanding an important result. Adults can practice this approach alongside more structured learning.

Children learn through play as well as through formal lessons. Treating “school” as the only setting for learning overlooks how much exploration can teach them about the world.

Feynman linked his renewed enjoyment of physics to watching a plate spin in a Cornell cafeteria. In his account, investigating its motion for fun helped him return to work that eventually contributed to his Nobel Prize. The point is the freedom to pursue an interesting question, rather than a claim that watching a plate alone produced the discovery.

According to Feynman,

“Physics disgusts me a little bit now, but I used to enjoy doing physics. Why did I enjoy it? I used to play with it. I used to do whatever I felt like doing—it didn’t have to do with whether it was important for the development of nuclear physics, but whether it was interesting and amusing for me to play with.

When I was in high school, I’d see water running out of a faucet growing narrower, and wonder if I could figure out what determines that curve. I found it was rather easy to do. I didn’t have to do it; it wasn’t important for the future of science; somebody else had already done it. That didn’t make any difference. I’d invent things and play with things for my own entertainment.

So I got this new attitude. Now that I am burned out and I’ll never accomplish anything, I’ve got this nice position at the university teaching classes which I rather enjoy, and just like I read The Arabian Nights for pleasure, I’m going to play with physics, whenever I want to, without worrying about any importance whatsoever.

Within a week I was in the cafeteria and some guy, fooling around, throws a plate in the air. As the plate went up in the air I saw it wobble, and I noticed the red medallion of Cornell on the plate going around. It was pretty obvious to me that the medallion went around faster than the wobbling.

I had nothing to do, so I start to figure out the motion of the rotating plate. I discovered that when the angle is very slight, the medallion rotates twice as fast as the wobble rate. Then I thought, ‘Is there some way I can see in a more fundamental way, by looking at the forces or the dynamics?’

I don’t remember how I did it, but I ultimately worked out what the motion of the mass particles is, and how all the accelerations balance. . . I still remember going to Hans Bethe and saying, ‘Hey, Hans! I noticed something interesting. Here the plate goes around so, and the reason it’s two to one is . . .’ and I showed him the accelerations.

He said, ‘Feynman, that’s pretty interesting, but what’s the importance of it? Why are you doing it?’

‘Hah!’ I said. ‘There’s no importance whatsoever. I’m just doing it for the fun of it.’ The diagrams and the whole business that I got the Nobel Prize for came from that piddling around with the wobbling plate.”

Relaxation and curiosity can support intellectual work. Treating playful exploration as mere “recreation” can make it harder to pursue questions whose value is not yet obvious.

Feynman’s “serious play” drew on sustained effort and substantial skill. He gave himself freedom over the question while still doing the work needed to answer it.

Work hard, then let go. Then work hard again.

Think of it a little like a muscle growing stronger. It’s essential to challenge the muscle to work hard, but it’s also essential to rest, or just to spontaneously let the body sometimes do what it feels is best (maybe dancing?). Many of us who are ambitious and/or have been indoctrinated into the ideology of “all work and no play” will find it difficult to let go. Learning to trust ourselves to be spontaneous, relaxed, and joyful can take some practice.

To put Feynman’s “play more” advice into practice, consider the following:

Serious play still requires domain knowledge.

Watching the spin and angle of rotating plates is great and all, but you’ll notice that Feynman had a hefty dose of pre-existing domain knowledge, and so his question about why the plates moved as they did could be answered with the skill set he already possessed. Perhaps if he had been a musician, he might have used that knowledge to explore the concept of spin a little differently!

Just because play is important, it doesn’t mean it’s not worth working really hard to fill up your intellectual inventory with tools, concepts, ideas, theories, and skills. When you have a burning question and are genuinely curious about something, then you can whip out these tools and use them—all the better if you’re very comfortable with using them already!

Pablo Picasso was often accused of not being a real painter since it appeared that his more famous works could be created by anyone without any artistic talent or technique. But look at some of his earlier paintings, and you will see that the modern artist had mastered many conventional techniques of painting (and was indeed a very competent and accomplished painter) before he broke them. Feynman’s training likewise gave him tools for investigating unfamiliar questions and making contributions to his field.

Serious play is still focused.

Rest and recuperation have value. Serious play involves a more active engagement: following a question closely enough to discover something about it.

A child absorbed in play can show sustained attention to a task that interests them. Give your own questions enough unhurried time to develop. Follow an observation, try an explanation, and test where it leads.

Serious play has a purpose.

When we are “killing time” or just seeking mindless entertainment, it is not the same as serious play. This kind of activity is open-ended, curious, and joyful, but it also has a definite point. It’s not a free-for-all. Feynman was just itching to understand why the plates behaved as they did. He was attacking the problem as though it were a game, but definitely one in which he was trying to win, trying to solve the puzzle. Try to be purposeful in the same way. A little healthy obsession is a powerful thing!