Creative Collaboration: Complementarity

How is creativity enhanced by collaboration?

I’ve been thinking about how to grow and facilitate the new creative cluster in my research group. Can I synthesize a ‘best practices’ system? Are there complementary approaches? What does the theoretician in me do when faced with such questions? I start reading. I’m slowly working my way through two books: Creative Collaboration by Vera John-Steiner; Creativity and Innovation Among Science and Art edited by Christine Charyton. I’m only in the early stages of both books so I haven’t formulated any major conclusions yet. But I was intrigued by an idea in John-Steiner’s book, especially since Niels Bohr features prominently, and because I’m trained as a quantum mechanic.

Chapter 2 of Creative Collaboration is titled “Partnerships in Science”. John-Steiner’s main thesis is that the nurturing of potential and talent is powerfully revealed in such complementary partnerships. While “some collaborations collapse under the weight of individualistic habits… others flourish [as they] strive toward the equality of dignified interdependence.” The chapter examines “the dynamics of complementarity between individuals who bring different disciplinary and personal resources to their partnership… and the dynamic and productive tension between ideas.”

Marie and Pierre Curie appropriately get first mention. There is an analysis of Einstein’s multiple collaborations. But the centerpiece of the chapter is Bohr’s principle of complementarity. The author deftly juxtaposes the ‘physical’ complementarity of wave-particle duality with the ‘social’ complementarity of scientists working together. A quote from Weiskopf (a student of Bohr) summarizes the first type of complementarity: “An electron is neither a wave nor a particle, but it exhibits one or the other set of properties under certain well-defined conditions. The systematics of these dual roles represent the essence of quantum mechanics. Bohr used the term complementarity for the apparent contradiction between the two mutually exclusive properties.”

The second type of complementary (partnership) is explored in four sections: (1) scientific training and discipline, (2) working styles, (3) opposing perspectives, (4) thought and analysis, i.e., conceptual complementarity. While some partnerships may lead to a Hegelian synthesis of two or more ideas, John-Steiner contrasts this ‘classical’ approach with one that maintains the tension and dynamic between different ideas. Complementarity is not the same as synthesis. The two do not become one, but rather continue to enhance knowledge and understanding in a dynamic dance between partners. She writes: “When individuals join together and build upon their complementarity in scientific disciplines, they expand their reach… Collaboration offers partners an opportunity to transcend their individuality and to overcome the limitations of habit, and of biological and temporal constraints… Collaborators redefine their own personal boundaries as they strive toward mutuality and deep understanding.”

There is an interesting exploration of thinking visually, thinking in words, and thinking mathematically. Einstein is characterized as a strong visual thinker (and had excellent mathematically-inclined collaborators). Heisenberg’s ability to frame quantum mechanical concepts in the language of mathematics strongly complemented Bohr’s visionary ideas. Feynman’s use of diagrams in electrodynamics is married with Schwinger’s formal approach, thanks to the mathematical abilities and patience of Freeman Dyson working with both.

Another point that jumped out at me: As historians explore the notes, letters, sketches, and other artifacts of scientific ‘geniuses’, we get a glimpse into the messy workings of being at the edge of novel groundbreaking ideas and concepts. The clean finished product, usually in the form of a scientific manuscript, hides the false trails, ad hoc ideas, nutty suggestions, and stretches of puzzling unproductivity. It reminded me to be patient in the incubation period, to encourage divergent ideas and approaches, to be more comfortable with articulating thoughts that might seem hazy or confusing (rather than trying to always sound polished), and to think about my own strengths and weaknesses so I can find appropriate complementary collaborators. Until reading John-Steiner’s chapter, I had always conceived of creative collaboration as resulting in a Hegelian synthesis of sorts, but this is not necessary nor is it always desirable. That feels freeing. I’ve shared the chapter with my creative (student) group, and I look forward to delving deeper down the rabbit hole.