Yi-Fu Tuan Dear Colleague

September 20, 2004

Dear Colleague,

Scholars and scientists dislike random events-accidents-that nevertheless have major consequences. Why, they may as well be miracles for the way they disrupt smooth narratives and natural laws. Individually, though we happily accept the operation of large forces that make us who we are, we are far less willing to admit that small chance events, like deciding at the last moment to step into Steep-and-Brew rather than into Starbucks, can alter the course of our lives. What if a tiny shift in my DNA brew had given me mathematical talent? Won't I now be working on a GIS project rather than on the margins of geography? What if, more than fifty years ago, I had decided to go to Madison rather than Berkeley for my graduate studies? Wouldn't I have come under the influence of Glenn Trewartha and Richard Hartshorne-dominant figures in the heartland of geography--rather than have my young and still pliable mind bent by such mavericks as Carl Sauer and Clarence Glacken? And think of the students who entered Wisconsin's own graduate program in the Spring of 1998. If they had entered just one semester earlier, when I was still a player on Science Hall's second floor, their young minds might have been subtly tainted forever by subversive humanistic ideas, such as the one about tiny events producing big effects broached here.

Now, let's turn to something larger than the life-path of an individual. What about history? Can the course of history be altered by a tiny fact, a chance event? Well, everyone has heard about Cleopatra's nose. Pascal (mathematical and theological genius) asserted that if it had been a little longer, neither Julius Caesar nor Marc Anthony would have fallen for her, and the face of the world would have changed. Historians hate that kind of stuff, Regius professor of modern history, Hugh Trevor-Roper, among them. Yet he "cannot but think that if General Franco, at Hendaye on 23 October 1940, had effectively substituted one monosyllable for another-if instead of No he had said Yes-our world would be quite different: the present, the future, and the past would all have been changed" (History and Imagination). What did Franco say "No" to? He said "No" to a triumphant Hitler who wanted Franco who--after all, was a sort of fascist--to allow him to assault Gibraltar from Spain. The assault would almost certainly have succeeded, and with the fall of British naval base on Gibraltar, the whole of the Mediterranean would have come under Hitler's sway.

Finally, turn to the biggest picture of all-intelligence in our universe, which cosmologists now think is just one in an infinity of universes. Conditions have to be just right for intelligent life to emerge. There may be many universes wherein conditions are just right. Nevertheless, "historical accidents could make the difference between a barren universe and one teeming with life" (Michael Turner, "Are there limits to our cosmic arrogance," Bulletin of the American Academy, Spring 2004, p. 15). What is to prevent the religiously inclined from saying that these tiny happenings, these historical accidents, are "miracles," attempts by God to correct the mistakes that a creation-that any creation of this size and complexity-is prone?

Best wishes,

Yi-Fu