The Surprising Power of Boredom: It Lets You Confront Big Questions & Give Life Meaning

The twen­ty-first cen­tu­ry so far may seem light on major tech­no­log­i­cal break­throughs, at least when com­pared to the twen­ti­eth. An arti­fi­cial intel­li­gence boom (per­haps a bub­ble, per­haps not) has been tak­ing place over the past few years, which at least gives us some­thing to talk about. Before that, most of us would have named the smart­phone, for bet­ter or for worse, as the defin­ing devel­op­ment of our time. Relat­ed­ly, we could also zoom out and declare that humankind has elim­i­nat­ed bore­dom. But unlike, say, get­ting rid of small­pox, that achieve­ment has yield­ed mixed bless­ings at best. The rea­son is that, as Har­vard Busi­ness School pro­fes­sor Arthur C. Brooks puts it in the Har­vard Busi­ness Review video above, you need to be bored.

“Bore­dom is a ten­den­cy for us not to be occu­pied oth­er­wise, cog­ni­tive­ly, which switch­es over our think­ing sys­tem to use a part of our brain that’s called the default mode net­work,” Brooks says. In that mode, which kicks in absent any oth­er stim­u­la­tion, we must face “big ques­tions of mean­ing” — by their very nature, uncom­fort­able ones — in our lives. “One of the rea­sons we have such an explo­sion of depres­sion and anx­i­ety in our soci­ety today is because peo­ple actu­al­ly don’t know the mean­ing of their lives, much less so than in pre­vi­ous gen­er­a­tions.” What has insu­lat­ed us so com­plete­ly from the need even to con­sid­er it? Why, “that thing in your pock­et with the screen, which you take out even when you’re stand­ing on the street cor­ner, wait­ing for the light to change.”

“We all have pock­et-sized com­put­ers now,” wrote the jour­nal­ist Kaleb Hor­ton, who died last month, in a blog post from ear­li­er this year addressed to his own father in the nine­teen-eight­ies. “You can look up ency­clo­pe­dia arti­cles and stuff but you’ll most­ly use it for check­ing the stock mar­ket and play­ing a game called Can­dy Crush. It’s real­ly just some­thing to do with your hands, like cig­a­rettes.” To those suf­fer­ing the kind of strange malaise he sens­es beset­ting so many of us here in the hyper-con­nect­ed twen­ty-twen­ties, he offers rec­om­men­da­tions includ­ing the fol­low­ing: “Log off as hard as you can. Go out­side, talk to peo­ple in real life where it’s actu­al­ly kind of rude to talk about the news, try to actu­al­ly see the friends you usu­al­ly just text mes­sage. Go for a long dri­ve and turn the phone off while you do it. Get back into your hob­bies or pick one and learn it for a while.”

In oth­er words, get offline and “try out some of those nor­mal things you hear about and if you get bored that’s won­der­ful because we’re not sup­posed to get bored any­more. It turns out bore­dom is the Cadil­lac of feel­ings.” With­out it, we’re liable to find our­selves on the way to the junk­yard: “If every time you’re slight­ly bored, you pull out your phone,” Brooks says, “it’s going to get hard­er and hard­er for you to find mean­ing, and that’s the recipe for depres­sion and anx­i­ety and a sense of hol­low­ness, which, by the way, are all through the roof.” If you delib­er­ate­ly and reg­u­lar­ly go with­out check­ing your phone, or indeed expos­ing your­self to any oth­er source of elec­tron­ic stim­u­la­tion, you’ll build “the skill of bore­dom,” which will enable you not only to con­front life’s grand ques­tions, but also to be less bored with ordi­nary life — some­thing we should all learn to savor while we still can.

Relat­ed con­tent:

The Ben­e­fits of Bore­dom: How to Stop Dis­tract­ing Your­self and Get Cre­ative Ideas Again

Lyn­da Bar­ry on How the Smart­phone Is Endan­ger­ing Three Ingre­di­ents of Cre­ativ­i­ty: Lone­li­ness, Uncer­tain­ty & Bore­dom

How to Take Advan­tage of Bore­dom, the Secret Ingre­di­ent of Cre­ativ­i­ty

David Lynch Explains How Med­i­ta­tion Boosts Our Cre­ativ­i­ty (Plus Free Resources to Help You Start Med­i­tat­ing)

Bored at Work? Here’s What Your Brain Is Try­ing to Tell You

Med­i­ta­tion for Begin­ners: Bud­dhist Monks & Teach­ers Explain the Basics

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Marc Maron Wraps Up the WTF Podcast: Watch His Final Interview with Barack Obama

Back in 2015, Pres­i­dent Oba­ma joined Marc Maron on the WTF pod­cast, mark­ing the first time a sit­ting pres­i­dent took part in this new kind of broad­cast­ing for­mat. It was a water­shed moment—a moment when pod­cast­ing went main­stream and became, soon enough, a big busi­ness. A decade lat­er, and after near­ly 1,700 episodes, Marc Maron has decid­ed to bring WTF to an end, say­ing: “It real­ly comes down to the fact that we’ve put up a new show every Mon­day and Thurs­day for almost six­teen years and we’re tired. We’re burnt out. And we are utter­ly sat­is­fied with the work we’ve done. We’ve done great work.” On Mon­day, Maron dropped his final episode, bring­ing things full cir­cle and talk­ing once again with Barack Oba­ma. If you’re going to leave your audi­ence, espe­cial­ly dur­ing these dystopi­an times, it’s nice to leave them with some per­spec­tive and hope, and that’s what Oba­ma does best. Watch the final episode above.

Boomer lives. Mon­key and Lafon­da. Cat angels every­where.

Relat­ed Con­tent 

An Ani­mat­ed Marc Maron Recalls Inter­view­ing a Shirt­less Iggy Pop in LA Garage

Stream Marc Maron’s Excel­lent, Long Inter­view with The Band’s Rob­bie Robert­son

Remembering Jane Goodall (RIP): Watch Jane, the Acclaimed National Geographic Documentary

Jane Goodall, the revered con­ser­va­tion­ist, passed away today at age 91. In her hon­or, we’re fea­tur­ing above a Nation­al Geo­graph­ic doc­u­men­tary called Jane. Direct­ed by Brett Mor­gen, the film draws “from over 100 hours of nev­er-before-seen footage that has been tucked away in the Nation­al Geo­graph­ic archives for over 50 years.” The doc­u­men­tary offers an inti­mate por­trait of Goodall and her chim­panzee research that “chal­lenged the male-dom­i­nat­ed sci­en­tif­ic con­sen­sus of her time and rev­o­lu­tion­ized our under­stand­ing of the nat­ur­al world.” It’s set to an orches­tral score by com­pos­er Philip Glass.

You can find Jane added to our col­lec­tion of Free Doc­u­men­taries, a sub­set of our larg­er col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent 

Ani­mat­ed: The Inspi­ra­tional Sto­ry of Jane Goodall, and Why She Believes in Big­foot

Google Street View Lets You Walk in Jane Goodall’s Foot­steps and Vis­it the Chim­panzees of Tan­za­nia

Meryl Streep’s First Film Role Was in an Animated Film on Erik Erikson’s Stages of Life (1976)

Dif­fi­cult as it may be to remem­ber now, there was a time when Meryl Streep was not yet syn­ony­mous with sil­ver-screen star­dom — a time, in fact, when she had yet to appear on the sil­ver screen at all. Half a cen­tu­ry ago, she was just anoth­er young stage actress in New York, albeit one rapid­ly ascend­ing the rungs of the­atri­cal pres­tige, doing three Shake­speare plays and then star­ring in Weill, Haupt­mann, and Brecht’s Hap­py End on Broad­way. The Deer Hunter, Kramer vs. Kramer, Out of Africa, Post­cards from the Edge, The Bridges of Madi­son Coun­ty: all this lay in her future in 1976, the year of her fea­ture debut.

Streep made that debut in Every­body Rides the Carousel, a now-obscure ani­mat­ed film that dra­ma­tizes post-Freudi­an psy­chol­o­gist Erik Erik­son’s eight stages of psy­choso­cial devel­op­ment. First pub­lished in his book Child­hood and Soci­ety in 1950, this scheme cap­tured the imag­i­na­tion of the mid-cen­tu­ry Amer­i­can pub­lic, grow­ing ever hun­gri­er as it was for clear, leg­i­ble sys­tems of self-under­stand­ing.

Erik­son con­ceived of each age of man as a strug­gle for res­o­lu­tion between two oppos­ing forces: in infan­cy, for exam­ple, trust ver­sus mis­trust; in ado­les­cence, iden­ti­ty ver­sus role con­fu­sion; and so on.

The young Meryl Streep, or rather her voice, appears in the sixth stage, ear­ly adult­hood, whose theme is love. She acts out that age’s con­test of inti­ma­cy and iso­la­tion with Charles Levin, anoth­er up-and-com­er who would go on to achieve wide recog­ni­tion on tele­vi­sion shows like AliceHill Street Blues, and (just once, but mem­o­rably) Sein­feld. In char­ac­ter as a young cou­ple unsteadi­ly feel­ing their way through their rela­tion­ship, the two engage in a remark­ably nat­u­ral­is­tic con­ver­sa­tion, all ani­mat­ed in a sev­en­ties water­col­or style in the vision of direc­tor John Hub­ley. A pro­lif­ic ani­ma­tor who’d worked on Dis­ney’s Fan­ta­sia, Hub­ley was known as the cre­ator of Mr. Magoo: a man who pro­vid­ed us all with an exam­ple of how to nav­i­gate late adult­hood’s path between ego integri­ty and despair, how­ev­er myopi­cal­ly.

via Messy Nessy

Relat­ed con­tent:

Watch Meryl Streep Have Fun with Accents: Bronx, Pol­ish, Irish, Aus­tralian, Yid­dish & More

Social Psy­chol­o­gist Erich Fromm Diag­noses Why Peo­ple Wear a Mask of Hap­pi­ness in Mod­ern Soci­ety (1977)

Mas­ter of Light: A Close Look at the Paint­ings of Johannes Ver­meer Nar­rat­ed by Meryl Streep

Mar­cel Marceau Mimes the Pro­gres­sion of Human Life, From Birth to Death, in 4 Min­utes

Meryl Streep Gives Grad­u­a­tion Speech at Barnard

Hear Meryl Streep Read Sylvia Plath’s “Morn­ing Song,” a Poem Writ­ten After the Birth of Her Daugh­ter

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

What an 85-Year-Long Harvard Study Says Is the Real Key to Happiness

We’ve long used the French word milieu in Eng­lish, but not with quite the same range of mean­ings it has back in France. For exam­ple, French soci­ety (and espe­cial­ly the mem­bers of its old­er gen­er­a­tions) explic­it­ly rec­og­nizes the val­ue of a milieu in the sense of the col­lect­ed friends, acquain­tances, and rela­tions with whom one has reg­u­lar and fre­quent con­tact. Keep­ing a good milieu is a key task for liv­ing a good life. Robert Waldinger does­n’t use the word in the new hour-long Big Think video above, but then, he comes from a dif­fer­ent cul­tur­al back­ground: he’s Amer­i­can, for one, a Har­vard psy­chi­a­trist, and he also hap­pens to be a Zen Bud­dhist priest. But he would sure­ly agree whole­heart­ed­ly about the impor­tance of the milieu to human hap­pi­ness.

As the fourth direc­tor of the long-term Har­vard Study of Adult Devel­op­ment, which has been keep­ing an eye on the well-being of its sub­jects for more than 85 years now, Waldinger knows some­thing about hap­pi­ness. Ear­ly in the video, he cites find­ings that half of it is “a kind of bio­log­i­cal set point,” 10 per­cent is “based on our cur­rent life cir­cum­stances,” and the remain­ing 40 per­cent is under our con­trol. The sin­gle most impor­tant fac­tor in the vari­abil­i­ty of our hap­pi­ness, he explains, is our rela­tion­ships. To take the mea­sure of that aspect of our own lives, we should ask our­selves these ques­tions: “Do I have enough con­nec­tion in my life?” “Do I have rela­tion­ships that are warm and sup­port­ive?” “What am I get­ting from rela­tion­ships?”

There are, of course, good rela­tion­ships and bad rela­tion­ships, those that fill you with ener­gy and those that drain you of ener­gy. To a great extent, Waldinger says, good rela­tion­ships can be cul­ti­vat­ed, and even bad rela­tion­ships can be mod­i­fied or approached in an advan­ta­geous way. What makes learn­ing to do so impor­tant is that a lack of rela­tion­ships — that is, lone­li­ness — can take as much of a phys­i­cal toll as obe­si­ty or heavy smok­ing. Alas, since tele­vi­sion made its way into the home after the Sec­ond World War, we’ve lived with a rapid­ly and cease­less­ly mul­ti­ply­ing array of forces that make it dif­fi­cult to form and main­tain rela­tion­ships; at this point, we’re so “con­stant­ly dis­tract­ed by our won­der­ful screens” that we have trou­ble pay­ing atten­tion to even the peo­ple we think we love. This is where Zen comes in.

Atten­tion, as one of Waldinger’s own teach­ers in that tra­di­tion put it, is “the most basic form of love,” and med­i­ta­tion has always been a reli­able way to cul­ti­vate it. Such a prac­tice reveals our own minds to be “messy and chaot­ic,” and from that real­iza­tion, it’s not far to the under­stand­ing that “every­body’s minds are messy and chaot­ic.” Attain­ing a clear view of our own ques­tion­able impuls­es and irri­tat­ing defi­cien­cies helps us to accept those same qual­i­ties in oth­ers. “We can some­times imag­ine that oth­er peo­ple have it all fig­ured out, and we’re the only one who has ups and downs in our life,” says Waldinger, but the truth is that “every­body has ups and downs. We nev­er fig­ure it out, ulti­mate­ly.” The fleet­ing nature of sat­is­fac­tion con­sti­tutes just one facet of the imper­ma­nence Zen requires us to accept. Noth­ing lasts for­ev­er: cer­tain­ly not our lives, nor those of the mem­bers of our milieu, so if we want to enjoy them, we’d bet­ter start pay­ing atten­tion to them while we still can.

Relat­ed con­tent:

What Are the Keys to Hap­pi­ness? Lessons from a 75-Year-Long Har­vard Study

How to Be Hap­pi­er in 5 Research-Proven Steps, Accord­ing to Pop­u­lar Yale Pro­fes­sor Lau­rie San­tos

A 6‑Step Guide to Zen Bud­dhism, Pre­sent­ed by Psy­chi­a­trist-Zen Mas­ter Robert Waldinger

All You Need is Love: The Keys to Hap­pi­ness Revealed by a 75-Year Har­vard Study

How Much Mon­ey Do You Need to Be Hap­py? A New Study Gives Us Some Exact Fig­ures

How Lone­li­ness Is Killing Us: A Primer from Har­vard Psy­chi­a­trist & Zen Priest Robert Waldinger

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Why You Should Only Work 3–4 Hours a Day, Like Charles Darwin, Virginia Woolf & Adam Smith

These days, we hear much said on social media — sure­ly too much — in favor of the “hus­tle cul­ture” and the “grind mind­set” (or, abbre­vi­at­ed for max­i­mum effi­cien­cy, the “grind­set”). Ded­i­ca­tion to your work is to be admired, pro­vid­ed that the work itself is of val­ue, but the more of a day’s hours you devote to it, the like­li­er returns are to dimin­ish. Oliv­er Burke­man, a pop­u­lar writer on pro­duc­tiv­i­ty and time man­age­ment, has made this point in a vari­ety of ways, usu­al­ly return­ing to the same find­ing: look at the work habits of a range of lumi­nar­ies includ­ing Charles Dar­win, Hen­ri Poin­caré, Thomas Jef­fer­son, Charles Dick­ens, Vir­ginia Woolf, J.G. Bal­lard, Ing­mar Bergman, Alice Munro, John le Car­ré, and Adam Smith, and you’ll find that they all put in about three or four hours of con­cen­trat­ed effort per day.

“You almost cer­tain­ly can’t con­sis­tent­ly do the kind of work that demands seri­ous men­tal focus for more than about three or four hours a day,” Burke­man writes on his site. If you do work of that kind, it would behoove you to “just focus on pro­tect­ing four hours — and don’t wor­ry if the rest of the day is char­ac­ter­ized by the usu­al scat­tered chaos.”

Doing so entails mak­ing an “inter­nal psy­cho­log­i­cal move: to give up demand­ing more of your­self than three or four hours of dai­ly high-qual­i­ty men­tal work.” You’ll also final­ly have to “aban­don the delu­sion that if you just man­aged to squeeze in a bit more work, you’d final­ly reach the com­mand­ing sta­tus of feel­ing ‘in con­trol’ and ‘on top of every­thing’ at last.”

The “the tru­ly valu­able skill here,” Burke­man con­tin­ues, “isn’t the capac­i­ty to push your­self hard­er, but to stop and recu­per­ate despite the dis­com­fort of know­ing that work remains unfin­ished, emails unan­swered, oth­er peo­ple’s demands unful­filled.” This is eas­i­er said than done, of course, but any attempt to imple­ment what Burke­man calls the “three-to-four-hour rule” must begin with a bit of tri­al and error: about when best in the day to sched­ule those hours, but also about how best to elim­i­nate dis­trac­tions dur­ing those hours. Under­neath all this lies the need to accept life’s fini­tude, as Burke­man explains in the inter­view at the top of the post, with its impli­ca­tion that we can only get so much done in what he often describes as our allot­ted 4,000 weeks — minus how­ev­er many thou­sand we’ve already lived so far.

To think more about man­ag­ing your time effec­tive­ly, see Burk­er­man’s books: Four Thou­sand Weeks: Time Man­age­ment for Mor­tals and also Med­i­ta­tions for Mor­tals: Four Weeks to Embrace Your Lim­i­ta­tions and Make Time for What Counts.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Charles Dar­win & Charles Dick­ens’ Four-Hour Work Day: The Case for Why Less Work Can Mean More Pro­duc­tiv­i­ty

The Dai­ly Rou­tines of Famous Cre­ative Peo­ple, Pre­sent­ed in an Inter­ac­tive Info­graph­ic

Write Only 500 Words Per Day and Pub­lish 50+ Books: Gra­ham Greene’s Writ­ing Method

David Lynch Explains How Sim­ple Dai­ly Habits Enhance His Cre­ativ­i­ty

Haru­ki Murakami’s Dai­ly Rou­tine: Up at 4:00 a.m., 5–6 Hours of Writ­ing, Then a 10K Run

How to Read Many More Books in a Year: Watch a Short Doc­u­men­tary Fea­tur­ing Some of the World’s Most Beau­ti­ful Book­stores

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Archaeologists Discover a 2,400-Year-Old Skeleton Mosaic That Urges People to “Be Cheerful and Live Your Life”

Image by Dosse­man, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

In 2012, archae­ol­o­gists dis­cov­ered in South­ern Turkey a well-pre­served mosa­ic fea­tur­ing a skele­ton savor­ing a loaf of bread and a pitch­er of wine, sur­round­ed by the Greek words “Be cheer­ful and live your life.” Dat­ing back to the 3rd cen­tu­ry BCE, the mosa­ic like­ly adorned the din­ing room of a wealthy vil­la in the ancient Gre­co-Roman city of Anti­och. It’s a kind of memen­to mori, a reminder that life is short and you should enjoy it while you can. Or so that’s how many have inter­pret­ed the mes­sage of the mosa­ic.

If you would like to delve deep­er, it’s worth read­ing the analy­sis and back­ground infor­ma­tion pro­vid­ed by The His­to­ry Blog. Mean­while, this sep­a­rate post on Tum­blr high­lights oth­er trans­la­tions and inter­pre­ta­tions of the mosaic’s key inscrip­tion.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

via Red­dit

Relat­ed Con­tent 

19th-Cen­tu­ry Skele­ton Alarm Clock Remind­ed Peo­ple Dai­ly of the Short­ness of Life: An Intro­duc­tion to the Memen­to Mori

A Rab­bit Rides a Char­i­ot Pulled by Geese in an Ancient Roman Mosa­ic (2nd cen­tu­ry AD)

How a Mosa­ic from Caligula’s Par­ty Boat Became a Cof­fee Table in a New York City Apart­ment 50 Years Ago

How to Make the 2000-Year-Old “Piz­za” Dis­cov­ered on a Pom­peii Fres­co

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Marie Curie Invented Mobile X‑Ray Units to Help Save Wounded Soldiers in World War I

A hun­dred years ago, Mobile X‑Ray Units were a brand new inno­va­tion, and a god­send for sol­diers wound­ed on the front in WW1. Pri­or to the advent of this tech­nol­o­gy, field sur­geons rac­ing to save lives oper­at­ed blind­ly, often caus­ing even more injury as they groped for bul­lets and shrap­nel whose pre­cise loca­tions remained a mys­tery.

Marie Curie was just set­ting up shop at Paris’ Radi­um Insti­tute, a world cen­ter for the study of radioac­tiv­i­ty, when war broke out. Many of her researchers left to fight, while Curie per­son­al­ly deliv­ered France’s sole sam­ple of radi­um by train to the tem­porar­i­ly relo­cat­ed seat of gov­ern­ment in Bor­deaux.

“I am resolved to put all my strength at the ser­vice of my adopt­ed coun­try, since I can­not do any­thing for my unfor­tu­nate native coun­try just now…,” Curie, a Pole by birth, wrote to her lover, physi­cist Paul Langevin on New Year’s Day, 1915.

To that end, she envi­sioned a fleet of vehi­cles that could bring X‑ray equip­ment much clos­er to the bat­tle­field, shift­ing their coor­di­nates as nec­es­sary.

Rather than leav­ing the exe­cu­tion of this bril­liant plan to oth­ers, Curie sprang into action.

She stud­ied anato­my and learned how to oper­ate the equip­ment so she would be able to read X‑ray films like a med­ical pro­fes­sion­al.

She learned how to dri­ve and fix cars.

She used her con­nec­tions to solic­it dona­tions of vehi­cles, portable elec­tric gen­er­a­tors, and the nec­es­sary equip­ment, kick­ing in gen­er­ous­ly her­self. (When she got the French Nation­al Bank to accept her gold Nobel Prize medals on behalf of the war effort, she spent the bulk of her prize purse on war bonds.)

She was ham­pered only by back­wards-think­ing bureau­crats whose feath­ers ruf­fled at the prospect of female tech­ni­cians and dri­vers, no doubt for­get­ting that most of France’s able-bod­ied men were oth­er­wise engaged.

Curie, no stranger to sex­ism, refused to bend to their will, deliv­er­ing equip­ment to the front line and X‑raying wound­ed sol­diers, assist­ed by her 17-year-old daugh­ter, Irène, who like her moth­er, took care to keep her emo­tions in check while work­ing with maimed and dis­tressed patients.

“In less than two years,” writes Aman­da Davis at The Insti­tute, “the num­ber of units had grown sub­stan­tial­ly, and the Curies had set up a train­ing pro­gram at the Radi­um Insti­tute to teach oth­er women to oper­ate the equip­ment.” Even­tu­al­ly, they recruit­ed about 150 women, train­ing them to man the Lit­tle Curies, as the mobile radi­og­ra­phy units came to be known.

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2017.

via Brain Pick­ings

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Marie Curie’s Research Papers Are Still Radioac­tive a Cen­tu­ry Lat­er

Marie Curie Became the First Woman to Win a Nobel Prize, the First Per­son to Win Twice, and the Only Per­son in His­to­ry to Win in Two Dif­fer­ent Sci­ences

An Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to the Life & Work of Marie Curie, the First Female Nobel Lau­re­ate

Marie Curie Attend­ed a Secret, Under­ground “Fly­ing Uni­ver­si­ty” When Women Were Banned from Pol­ish Uni­ver­si­ties

Marie Curie’s Ph.D. The­sis on Radioactivity–Which Made Her the First Woman in France to Receive a Doc­tor­al Degree in Physics

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. 

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