Inventing Iron Man (23 page)

According to Marvel Comics, Anthony Edward “Tony” Stark has a “genius” intellect. He has an advanced degree in electrical engineering. Those are his dry details, but what about what goes on inside the
mind of an inventor? In the story “The Confession” collected in the 2007 graphic novel
Iron Man: Civil War
, Tony reflected that “I'm an inventor. I can envision the future…. I see what we will need and I invent the thing that will help us get there. That's how I invented my armor. That's how the Avengers were born. That's how every idea I've ever had in the world has come to be. I invent a solution.”

How does all that creativity and inspiration work, though? Many people have reflected on this over the years. Dean Simonton came up with some fascinating thoughts on the subject in his book
Scientific Genius: A Psychology of Science
. Simonton examined many aspects of scientific discovery and the scientists behind the discoveries. Creativity is a key ingredient. So is the element of chance discovery. One of the interesting outcomes of this kind of analysis is that it is actually very difficult to specify in advance the discoveries that someone may want. That is, scientific discovery is a creative process and, like anything creative, cannot be fully scripted and demanded. This is sometimes underestimated in science, but it is considered commonplace in the arts. We routinely accept that novelists, painters, and actors need to find their “muse” or need to be inspired and then suddenly produce something genius. Science works in a similar fashion.

A key element of scientific advance and discovery is the role that random processes play. Related to this is the process of the oft-touted scientific method where faulty ideas are tested and rejected and far outnumber the rare observation of the correct idea occurring immediately in any field. Simonton has a great quote from William Jevons, who in 1877 said, “It would be an error to suppose that the great discoverer seizes at once upon the truth, or has any unerring method of divining it … the errors of the great mind exceed in number those of the less vigorous one. Fertility of imagination and abundance of guesses at truth are among the first requisites of discovery; but the erroneous guesses must be many times as numerous as those that prove well founded.” Despite his success as the inventor of the first incandescent light bulb (and so many other inventions), Thomas Edison has been famously quoted on failure. When asked about the many thousands of failed prototypes he went through before arriving at a useful light bulb, Edison is quoted as saying, “I have not failed. I've found ten thousand ways that don't work.” Part of this clearly relates to freedom of thinking and not being constrained by ideology. Albert Einstein did not talk much about the background process underlying his discoveries, but when he did he made it clear
that the first stage of thinking was a very chaotic one in which many ideas that are not clearly linked together swirl around and take shape. Only after this are the ideas rigorously examined and tested.

How much formal education and what kind of grades would be required for someone to have the background to invent Iron Man? Well, possibly none at all! In his book on scientific genius, Simonton points out creativity is not necessarily well represented by high marks in school and college or university study. A distinction can sometimes be made between students who score well on tests of analytical power compared with those who are highly creative and intuitive. But it isn't a very simple and straightforward relation. Charles Darwin and Albert Einstein were marginal students in school but were shown to be brilliant scientists in practice. Contrary to that, though, Max Planck, Marie Curie, and Sigmund Freud were geniuses in their work and also had brilliant scholastic records. So, it depends. It also has been shown that with increasing levels of formal education there may be a reduction of creativity. This could be related to an increase in dogmatism that goes along with successful careers in science. However, it is possible that this constraint in viewpoint could be offset by other experiences in different fields and with different techniques and ways of thinking.

Philosopher Thomas Kuhn wrote about science, the scientific process, and particularly about the idea of paradigms in science, that is, the set of ways of thinking and theories in a field, in his classic book
The Structure of Scientific Revolutions
. A main point in Kuhn's work is that science moves along with a given paradigm until something very insightful is contributed by someone that leads to the breaking of the paradigm. Then a new paradigm is created. In this way, science continues to make incremental forward progress over time despite occasional setbacks. With regard to paradigm shifts, Kuhn wrote that “almost always the men who achieve these fundamental inventions of a new paradigm have been either very young or very new to the field whose paradigm they change.” The upshot of this kind of thinking is that a scientist who has had training in different disciplines may be able to put ideas together in novel and unique ways that may dramatically alter a field.

Many preeminent scientists have had different interests that were harnessed very well in the pursuit of answering a given question. Nobel Prize–winning Spanish neuroscientist Santiago Ramon y Cajal (1852–1934) is an excellent example. Cajal pioneered the microscopic
study of the brain and spinal cord and produced stunningly detailed and beautiful sketches and diagrams. But his primary passion was art and only because he was cajoled into pursuing a scientific career did he do so. Left to his own devices, he would have likely been a famous painter. He also had many other interests including boxing, fighting, and gymnastics. So, he was a very interesting person, indeed. He was the co-winner of the Nobel Prize for Physiology or Medicine in 1906, sharing it with another neuroscientist Camillo Golgi in recognition of their work on the structure of the nervous system. Throughout his life Cajal was a firm advocate of the “neuron doctrine,” which describes the now well-known, but then controversial, idea that the nervous system is composed of individual nerve cells.

Another interesting point about creativity and discovery is that it does not seem to respond well to force. Simonton captured well the idea that solving a problem is often accomplished only after a long delay in directly addressing the problem itself. He quotes the famous French mathematician Henri Poincaré (1854–1912) commenting on his inability to solve a problem he was working on: “Disgusted with my failure, I went to spend a few days at the seaside, and thought of something else. One morning, walking on the bluff, the idea came to me with … suddenness and immediate certainty.” Charles Darwin (1809–82), he of the theory of evolution, described a similar experience when thinking through a problem that suddenly resolved itself spontaneously, “I can remember the very spot in the road, whilst in my carriage, when to my joy the solution occurred to me.”

In my own experience as a scientist, my most useful insights have occurred either when I had indeed been doing something else (like turning away in frustration from a grant or scientific manuscript and instead reading a Stephen King novel) or when I was engaged in doing something completely different—a change is as good as a rest. Given that I am writing this book on Iron Man right now, I want to share a neat thing that happened to me when I was writing
Becoming Batman
. Writing a general science book is a very different experience from detailed technical writing of scientific papers and grants. You are forced to take a very big picture view when doing this and while you do provide some details, you really try to make sure that you are taking an integrated view.

During the writing of
Becoming Batman
I was involved in some research activities and some reading different from my typical field
of studies. I began doing some reading about the evolution of bipedalism in physical anthropology, which is outside my experiences as a neuroscientist but is directly related to my work linking arm and leg movements during human walking. Suddenly, or so it seemed, I gained insight into the evolutionary and mechanical link between rhythmic arm movement in human walking (which remains a key focus in my research program) and the role of the forelimbs of other primates during climbing. This allowed me to bring together many observations I had not previously seen and kick-started another highly rewarding part of my research career. I am certain that I would not have made those connections at that time had I not been writing
Becoming Batman
and then been switching back and forth between different tasks. I firmly believe you cannot force creativity but that it must instead emerge over time.

Because of this I believe it would have been very difficult indeed for Tony Stark and Professor Yinsen to creatively design and create that very first Iron Man gray armor on demand in that cave in Afghanistan (movie) or Vietnam (comic book). Instead, I suggest that Tony must have been thinking for some time about this line of application. He must have had at least a vague inkling of a wearable, powered suit of armor that he then brought fully to life with the help of Professor Yinsen.

What if you could invent a working set of Iron Man armor? Would you want to make it and sell it? That is, when you weren't busy being a superhero. If someone comes along and actually does invent Iron Man armor, when will we next see it in Walmart? Nowadays the casual inventor and professional scientists and engineers have to be versed in the legal aspects of discovery. And that means the concept of patents and patenting ideas and discoveries. An interesting point to consider is whether Anthony Stark would actually qualify as an inventor and whether the Iron Man suit could be patented. Keep in mind that Tony isn't just a superhero who actually tries to help people by acting as Iron Man. He is also head of a huge multinational technological corporation. He needs, therefore, to help contribute to his company making money. And you make money by selling ideas as goods and those goods need to be exclusive to your company. This
point was actually indirectly addressed in the Marvel Studios
Iron Man 2
film. It centered around how Jim Rhodes flew off with War Machine and gave it to the U.S. Air Force. A scene later in the movie, shows Pepper Potts (now president and CEO of Stark Enterprises) talking with someone at the air force base about getting back their “proprietary technology.”

Let's begin with the definition of an inventor. I spoke with Cynthia Shippam-Brett, who is a patent agent working at a large firm in Vancouver. An inventor is defined as someone who contributes to performance of the “mental part” of the act of invention. This intellectual contribution goes beyond just conceiving of the desired result of the inventive process—in our case a fully integrated robotic suit of armor—but also an outline and understanding of the means necessary to actually accomplish it. So, the role of inventor goes well beyond simply coming up with the idea of “we should do this.”

We could also think about who is not an inventor (in the case of Iron Man, this is a bit easier to consider because he mostly did it in secret). Someone who provided technical assistance, even if many hours were invested, or who supported morally or financially, or even someone who may have had an idea that stimulated the research itself. None of this qualifies as being an inventor. Tony Stark clearly is an inventor of Iron Man. Given the portrayals in the comic book origin tales and in the first Iron Man movie, Professor Yinsen would also legally be a coinventor of Iron Man. However, a bit of a legal battle could ensue in such a case because a key feature of inventorship is evidence to support the work, timing, and process. A lab book, carefully recording progress (and setbacks) and witnessed by others, is typically a key feature of this process. However, Tony didn't seem to document his work that well, so this could be difficult. This problem was neatly solved in most origin tales because Yinsen winds up getting killed in action during his escape.

Now, what about the next question—could Iron Man be patented? A patent is essentially a set of exclusive rights granted by the government that exists for a fixed period of time. The trade-off is that in order to be granted the rights, the inventor must publicly disclose the details of the device, the method of its operation, and what it is composed of. Patenting Iron Man would therefore mean giving a blueprint of the armor's composition and function. I think it should be clear that Tony Stark would never really seriously consider patenting Iron Man. Essentially it would mean providing for public scrutiny—and
in our Iron Man example this means to Hydra, the Mandarin, and Justin Hammer—the inner workings of the technology embodied in Iron Man. I don't think this is something Tony would be too keen on, really. Giving his mortal enemies a leg up on how to defeat him isn't really in keeping with a genius intellect! Of course all of this discussion presupposes Iron Man could exist in the first place. So why don't we tackle that very issue in the next chapter?

COULD IRON MAN EXIST?

My god, the arrogance…. All those years refining a machine. Not a moment's thought given to refining the man inside it.

—Tony reflecting on the use of the suit and the need for the human element, “Execute Program, Part 4” (The Invincible Iron Man #10, 2006)

Undergoing the Extremis Procedure remade my body from the inside out. Long story short, my body was turned into a kind of computer designed to interface with the Iron Man. There was no longer a division between me and the suit. My brain … evolved, I guess. Into a kind of hard drive.

—Tony Stark, “Godspeed” (Invincible Iron Man #9, 2009)

Iron Man belongs to that small club of superheroes that are viewed as “possible.” This is a key part of his appeal. Iron Man and Batman are the two most obvious members of that group. A main attraction to Batman is that it seems like if you just worked really hard you could achieve his status (those of you who have read
Becoming Batman
will be already familiar with both the truth and falseness of this). A main attraction for Iron Man is that it seems like you could just pull on his suit and go flashing around as Iron Man. In some ways this is even more attractive for many than becoming Batman. At least those who prefer skipping the hard work of the training! So
the main focus in this chapter has to do with exploring issues related to those perceptions. If the tech for a full-fledged Iron Man suit existed, could anyone become Iron Man? If you were Iron Man, would you need any training?