So the question is, what is invisible? There is more of it than you think, actually. Everything, I would say. Everything that matters except every thing and except matter.
Tātad, jautājums ir šāds: kas ir neredzams? Patiesībā tā ir daudz vairāk, nekā jūs iedomājaties. Jebkas, ko es teiktu, jebkas, kam ir nozīme izņemot jēgu un nozīmi.
We can see matter. But we can't see what's the matter. As in this cryptic sentence I found in The Guardian recently: "The marriage suffered a setback in 1965, when the husband was killed by the wife." (Laughter) There's a world of invisibility there, isn't there? (Laughter)
Mēs varam redzēt lietu, bet nevaram redzēt kas par lietu. Kā šajā mīklainajā teikumā, ko nesen uzgāju laikrakstā "Guardian" "Laulība piedzīvoja neveiksmi 1965. gadā kad sieva nogalināja vīru." (Smiekli) Neredzamā taču ir tik daudz, vai ne? (Smiekli)
So, we can see the stars and the planets, but we can't see what holds them apart or what draws them together. With matter, as with people, we see only the skin of things. We can't see into the engine room. We can't see what makes people tick, at least not without difficulty. And the closer we look at anything, the more it disappears. In fact, if you look really closely at stuff, if you look at the basic substructure of matter, there isn't anything there. Electrons disappear in a kind of fuzz, and there is only energy. And you can't see energy.
Tātad, mēs varam redzēt zvaigznes un planētas. Taču mēs nevaram redzēt kas tās atgrūž, un nevaram redzēt to, kas viņām liek savstarpēji pievilkties. Ar lietām, tāpat kā ar cilvēkiem, mēs redzam tikai to ārpusi. Mēs neredzam pašu mehānismu. Mēs nevaram redzēt, kas liek cilvēkiem 'tikšķēt', vismaz ne bez grūtībām. Un jo tuvāk mēs kaut ko aplūkojam, jo vairāk tas izzūd. Patiesībā, ja jūs uz lietām skatītos ļoti cieši ja jūs skatītos uz to pamatuzbūvi, jūs neko neredzētu. Elektroni pazūd tādā kā jūklī un paliek tikai enerģija. Un enerģiju nevar redzēt.
So everything that matters, that's important, is invisible. One slightly silly thing that's invisible is this story, which is invisible to you. And I'm now going to make it visible to you in your minds. It's about an M.P. called Geoffrey Dickens.
Tātad viss, kam ir kāda jēga; viss, kas ir svarīgs, ir neredzams. Mazliet smieklīgi ir tas, ka šis stāsts jums ir neredzams. Un tagad es to jūsu prātos padarīšu par redzamu. Tas ir par politiķi Džofriju Dikensu.
The late Geoffrey Dickens, M.P. was attending a fete in his constituency. Wherever he went, at every stall he stopped he was closely followed by a devoted smiling woman of indescribable ugliness. (Laughter) Try as he might, he couldn't get away from her. A few days later he received a letter from a constituent saying how much she admired him, had met him at a fete and asking for a signed photograph. After her name, written in brackets was the apt description, horse face. (Laughter)
Nelaiķis Dikenss piedalījās svētkos savā vēlēšanu apgabalā. Lai arī kur viņš ietu, pie kura stenda apstātos, visur viņam sekoja kāda neticami neglīta sieviete, kura visu laiku smaidīja. (Smiekli) Lai kā arī censtos, viņš netika no viņas vaļā. Pāris dienu vēlāk viņš saņēma vēstuli no kādas vēlētājas kura stāstīja, cik ļoti viņa viņu apbrīno, ka viņa ir viņu satikusi svētkos un lūdza, lai politiķis paraksta fotogrāfiju. Aiz viņas vārda iekavās bija piemērots apraksts: zirgaģīmis. (Smiekli)
"I've misjudged this women," thought Mr. Dickens. "Not only is she aware of her physical repulsiveness, she turns it to her advantage. A photo is not enough." So he went out and bought a plastic frame to put the photograph in. And on the photograph, he wrote with a flourish, "To Horse Face, with love from Geoffrey Dickens, M.P." After it had been sent off, his secretary said to him, "Did you get that letter from the woman at the fete? I wrote Horse Face on her, so you'd remember who she was." (Laughter)
"Es šo sievieti novērtēju nepareizi." nodomāja Dikensa kungs. "Viņa ne tikai apzinās savu fizisko nepievilcību, viņa to padara par savu priekšrocību. Ar foto vien nepietiks." Tā viņš aizgāja nopirkt rāmīti, kur ievietot fotogrāfiju. Un uz fotogrāfijas viņš krāšņi uzrakstīja: "Zirgaģīmim, ar mīlestību - politiķis Džofrijs Dikenss." Pēctam, kad tā bija nosūtīta, viņa sekretāre vaicāja: "Vai saņēmāt vēstuli no sievietes, kura bija svinībās? Es klāt pierakstīju 'zirgaģīmis', lai jūs atcerētos, kura tā bija." (Smiekli)
I bet he thought he wished he was invisible, don't you? (Laughter)
Varu saderēt, ka tad viņš vēlējās būt neredzams, vai ne? (Smiekli)
So, one of the interesting things about invisibility is that things that we can't see we also can't understand. Gravity is one thing that we can't see and which we don't understand. It's the least understood of all the four fundamental forces, and the weakest. And nobody really knows what it is or why it's there.
Interesanti par neredzamo ir tas, ka mēs nesaprotam to, ko neredzam. Gravitāte ir viena no lietām ko mēs neredzam, un ko mēs nesaprotam. Tā ir vājākā un vismazāk izprastā no visiem četriem pamatspēkiem. Un patiesībā neviens nezin kas tā ir un kādēļ pastāv.
For what it's worth, Sir Isaac Newton, the greatest scientist who ever lived, he thought Jesus came to Earth specifically to operate the levers of gravity. That's what he thought he was there for. So, bright guy, could be wrong on that one, I don't know. (Laughter)
Lai nu kā, Sers Īzaks Ņūtons, lieliskākais zinātnieks, kas jebkad dzīvojis, domāja, ka Jēzus nāca pasaulē lai darbinātu gravitātes sviras. Viņš domāja, ka Jēzus nāca tieši tādēļ. Tā nu, gudrinieks, to sakot varbūt kļūdījās, es nezinu. (Smiekli)
Consciousness. I see all your faces. I have no idea what any of you are thinking. Isn't that amazing? Isn't that incredible that we can't read each other's minds? But we can touch each other, taste each other perhaps, if we get close enough. But we can't read each other's minds. I find that quite astonishing.
Apziņa. Es jūs visus redzu. Man nav ne jausmas par ko jūs domājat. Vai tas nav apbrīnojami? Vai nav neticami, ka mēs nevaram lasīt citu domas? Taču mēs varam viens otram pieskarties, vai, varbūt, pagaršot - ja esam pietiekami tuvu. Taču mēs nevaram lasīt viens otra domas. Manuprāt, tas ir pārsteidzoši.
In the Sufi faith, this great Middle Eastern religion, which some claim is the route of all religions, Sufi masters are all telepaths, so they say. But their main exercise of telepathy is to send out powerful signals to the rest of us that it doesn't exist. So that's why we don't think it exists, the Sufi masters working on us.
Sūfiju ticībā - šajā lielajā Vidus Austrumu reliģijā, ko daži uzskata par visu reliģiju pamatu, apgalvo, ka visi Sūfiju skolotāji ir telepāti. Taču šīs telepātijas galvenais uzdevums ir sūtīt spēcīgus signālus mums pārējiem, ka šīs reliģijas nemaz nav. Tādēļ mēs domājam, ka tā nepastāv, jo uz mums darbojas Sūfiju skolotāji.
In the question of consciousness and artificial intelligence, artificial intelligence has really, like the study of consciousness, gotten nowhere. We have no idea how consciousness works. With artificial intelligence, not only have they not created artificial intelligence, they haven't yet created artificial stupidity. (Laughter)
Apskatot jautājumu par apziņu un mākslīgo intelektu. Māksīgais intelekts, tāpat kā apziņas izpēte, nekur nav nonācis. Mums nav ne mazākās nojaumsas kā strādā apziņa. Par mākslīgo intelektu: ne tikai tas nav radīts, nav radīts arī mākslīgais stulbums. (Smiekli)
The laws of physics: invisible, eternal, omnipresent, all-powerful. Remind you of anyone? Interesting. I'm, as you can guess, not a materialist, I'm an immaterialist. And I've found a very useful new word, ignostic. Okay? I'm an ignostic. I refuse to be drawn on the question of whether God exists, until somebody properly defines the terms. (Laughter)
Fizikas likumi: neredzami, mūžīgi, visuresoši, visspēcīgi. Vai tas jums kādu atgādina? Interesanti. Es, kā jau jūs varat minēt, neesmu materiālists, esmu nemateriālists. Un esmu atradis jaunu un ļoti noderīgu vārdu, ignostiķis. Labi? Es esmu ignostiķis. Es atsakos atbidēt uz jautājumu vai Dievs ir, līdz kamēr jautātājs precīzi definē šo jēdzienu. (Smiekli)
Another thing we can't see is the human genome. And this is increasingly peculiar, because about 20 years ago, when they started delving into the genome, they thought it would probably contain around 100,000 genes. Geneticists will know this, but every year since, it's been revised downwards. We now think there are likely to be only just over 20,000 genes in the human genome.
Vēlviena lieta, ko neredzam, ir cilvēka genoms. Un tas ir ārkārtīgi īpašs. Jo pirms 20 gadiem, kad genoms tika sākts pētīt, domāja, ka tas varētu sastāvēt no apmēram 100 tūkstoš gēniem. Ģenētiķi to noteikti zinās, taču katru gadu kopš tā brīža, šis skaitlis tiek samazināts. Tagad mēs domājam, ka cilvēka genomā apmēram varētu būt mazliet vairāk par 20 tūkstoš gēnu.
This is extraordinary. Because rice -- get this -- rice is known to have 38 thousand genes. Potatoes, potatoes have 48 chromosomes. Do you know that? Two more than people, and the same as a gorilla. (Laughter) You can't see these things, but they are very strange. (Laughter)
Tas ir neparasti. Jo rīsiem, ieklausieties, rīsiem ir 38 tūkstoš gēnu. Kartupeļiem ir 48 hromosomas. Vai jūs to zinājāt? Par divām vairāk kā cilvēkam. Arī gorillai ir tikpat. (Smiekli) Jūs šis lietas neredzat. Taču tās ir ļoti dīvainas. (Smiekli)
The stars by day. I always think that's fascinating. The universe disappears. The more light there is, the less you can see.
Zvaignes dienā. Es vienmēr esmu domājis, ka tas ir fascinējoši. Visums izzūd. Jo vairāk gaismas, jo mazāk varam redzēt.
Time, nobody can see time. I don't know if you know this. Modern physics, there is a big movement in modern physics to decide that time doesn't really exist, because it's too inconvenient for the figures. It's much easier if it's not really there. You can't see the future, obviously. And you can't see the past, except in your memory.
Laiks, neviens neredz laiku. Es nezinu vai jūs to zināt. Mūsdienu fizikā; mūsdienu fizikā ir liela kustība, kas apgalvo, ka laika nemaz nav. Tādēļ, ka tas ir pārāk apgrūtinoši statistikas datiem. Ir daudz vieglāk, ja laika nav. Ir skaidrs, ka nevar redzēt nākotni. Un arī pagātni ne, tikai savās atmiņās.
One of the interesting things about the past is you particularly can't see. My son asked me this the other day, he said, "Dad, can you remember what I was like when I was two?" And I said, "Yes." And he said, "Why can't I?"
Interesanti par pagātni ir tas, ka jūs to neredzat. Kādu dienu mans dēls man vaicāja, viņš teica: "Tēt, vai tu atceries kāds es biju divu gadu vecumā?" Un es teicu: "Jā." Un tad viņš teica: "Kādēļ tad es neatceros?"
Isn't that extraordinary? You cannot remember what happened to you earlier than the age of two or three, which is great news for psychoanalysts, because otherwise they'd be out of a job. Because that's where all the stuff happens (Laughter) that makes you who you are.
Vai tas nav neparasti? Mēs neatceramies kas ar mums notika agrāk kā divu, trīs gadu vecumā. Kas ir lieliskas ziņas psihoanalītiķiem. Savādāk viņi būtu bez darba. Jo tas ir vecums, kad notiek viss interesantais (Smiekli) un tas tevi padara par to, kas esi.
Another thing you can't see is the grid on which we hang. This is fascinating. You probably know, some of you, that cells are continually renewed. You can see it in skin and this kind of stuff. Skin flakes off, hairs grow, nails, that kind of stuff. But every cell in your body is replaced at some point. Taste buds, every 10 days or so. Livers and internal organs sort of take a bit longer. A spine takes several years. But at the end of seven years, not one cell in your body remains from what was there seven years ago. The question is, who, then, are we? What are we? What is this thing that we hang on, that is actually us?
Vēlviena lieta, ko īsti nevar redzēt ir rāmis, pie kā mēs turamies. Tas ir fascinējoši. Daži no jums noteikti zin, ka šunas tiek nemitīgi atjaunotas. Jūs to varat novērot ar savu ādu un tādām lietām. Āda nolobās, aug mati, nagi un tā tālāk. Bet katra jūsu organisma šūna kādā brīdi tiek aizvietota. Garšas kārpiņas - apmēram katru 10. dienu. Tas notiek ilgāk ar aknām un iekšējiem orgāniem. Mugurkaulam vajadzīgi vairāki gadi. Taču pēc septiņiem gadiem, neviena šūna jūsu ķermenī nebūs tā pati, kas pirms septiņiem gadiem. Tad kas īsti mēs esam? Kas mēs esam? Kas ir tā lieta, pie kā mēs turamies, kas esam mēs?
Okay. Atoms, you can't see them. Nobody ever will. They're smaller than the wavelength of light. Gas, you can't see that. Interesting. Somebody mentioned 1600 recently. Gas was invented in 1600 by a Dutch chemist called Van Helmont. It's said to be the most successful ever invention of a word by a known individual. Quite good. He also invented a word called "blas," meaning astral radiation. Didn't catch on, unfortunately. (Laughter) But well done, him. (Laughter)
Labi. Atomi, tos nevar redzēt. Un neviens nekad neredzēs. Tie ir mazāki par gaismas viļņa garumu. Arī gāzi nevar redzēt. Interesanti. Kāds nesen minēja 1600. gadu. Šajā gadā tika izgudrots vārds 'gāze', to izdarīja holandiešu zinātnieks Van Helmonts. Šis vārds tiek uzskatīts par labāko zināma individuāļa atklājumu. Diezgan labi. Viņš arī izgudroja kādu vārdu, kas nozīmēja 'astrālā radiācija'. Diemžēl, šis vārds laikam nebija pārāk lipīgs. (Smiekli) Bet viņš labi pastrādāja. (Smiekli)
There is so many things that -- Light. You can't see light. When it's dark, in a vacuum, if a person shines a beam of light straight across your eyes, you won't see it. Slightly technical, some physicists will disagree with this. But it's odd that you can't see the beam of light, you can only see what it hits. I find that extraordinary, not to be able to see light, not to be able to see darkness.
Ir tik daudz lietu, ko -- Gaisma. Mēs nevaram redzēt gaismu. Vakuumā, kad ir tumšs, un kāds jums tieši acīs spīdina gaismas staru, jūs to neredzēsiet. Mazliet tehniski, daži fiziķi šim faktam nepiekritīs. Taču ir dīvaini, ka gaismas staru nevar redzēt, mēs redzam tikai to, ko tas atstaro. Manuprāt, tas ir neparasti, ka gaismu nevar redzēt, un arī tumsu nevar.
Electricity, you can't see that. Don't let anyone tell you they understand electricity. They don't. Nobody knows what it is. (Laughter) You probably think the electrons in an electric wire move instantaneously down a wire, don't you, at the speed of light when you turn the light on. They don't. Electrons bumble down the wire, about the speed of spreading honey, they say. (Laughter)
Mēs neredzam elektrību. Neļaujiet sev iestāstīt, ka kāds izprot elektrību. Viņi nesaprot. Neviens nezin kas tas ir. (Smiekli) Jūs droši vien domājat, ka tad, kad jūs ieslēdzat gaismu, pa elektrības vadiem gaismas ātrumā nemitīgi brāžas elektroni. Tā nav. Saka, ka elektroni pa vadiem virzās ar tekoša medus ātrumu. (Smiekli)
Galaxies, 100 billion of them estimated in the universe. 100 billion. How many can we see? Five. Five out of the 100 billion galaxies, with the naked eye, and one of them is quite difficult to see unless you've got very good eyesight.
Ir izmērīts, ka visumā ir 100 biljonu galaktiku. 100 biljonu. Cik mēs varam redzēt? Piecas. Piecas no 100 biljoniem galaktiku. Ar neapbruņotu aci. Un vienu no tām ir diezgan grūti redzēt, ja jums nav laba redze.
Radio waves. There's another thing. Heinrich Hertz, when he discovered radio waves in 1887, he called them radio waves because they radiated. And somebody said to him, "Well what's the point of these, Heinrich? What's the point of these radio waves that you've found?" And he said, "Well, I've no idea. But I guess somebody will find a use for them someday." And that's what they do, radio. That's what they discovered.
Radioviļņi. Tā ir vēlviena no lietām. Kad 1887. gadā Heinrihs Hercs atklāja radioviļņus, viņš tos tā nosauca tādēļ, ka tie staroja. Un kāds viņam jautāja: "Heinrih, kāda tiem jēga? Kāda jēga no šiem viļņiem, kurus esi atklājis?" Un viņš atbildēja: "Nu man tas nav skaidrs. Bet laikam jau kādu dienu kāds tiem atradīs jēgu." Un tas ir tas, ko tie dara, radio. Tas ir tas, ko viņi atklāja.
Anyway, so the biggest thing that's invisible to us is what we don't know. It is incredible how little we know. Thomas Edison once said, "We don't know one percent of one millionth about anything."
Lai nu kā, lielākā lieta kas mums ir neredzama ir viss tas, ko mēs nezinām. Ir pārsteidzoši, cik maz mēs zinām. Tomass Edisons reiz teica: "Mēs nezinām ne procentu no vienas miljonās daļas par kādu lietu."
And I've come to the conclusion -- because you've asked this other question, "What's another thing you can't see?" The point, most of us. What's the point? (Laughter) (Applause) You can't see a point. It's by definition dimensionless, like an electron, oddly enough.
Un es esmu nonācis pie secinājuma jo jūs pajautājāt vēl šo: "Kas vēl ir tas, ko mēs neredzam?" Lielākā daļa no mums - jēgu. Kāda jēga? (Smiekli) (Aplausi) Jūs nevarat redzēt punktu. Diezgan dīvaini, ka pēc definīcijas tas ir bezdimensionāls, gluži tāpat kā elektrons.
But the point, what I've got it down to, is there are only two questions really worth asking. "Why are we here?" and "What should we do about it while we are? And to help you, I've got two things to leave you with, from two great philosophers, perhaps two of the greatest philosopher thinkers of the 20th century, one a mathematician and an engineer, and the other a poet.
Bet pats svarīgākais līdz kam esmu nonācis ir tas, ka ir tikai viens jautājums, ko patiešām vērts uzdot. "Kādēļ mēs esam šeit?" un "Ko mums darīt kamēr šeit esam?" Un lai jums palīdzētu, man ir vēl divas lietas ko jums pateikt, divu lielisku filosofu vārdiem, iespējams, divu lieliskāko 20. gadsimta filosofu domas. Viens bija matemātiķis-inženieris un otrs bija dzejnieks.
The first is Ludwig Wittgenstein who said, "I don't know why we are here. But I'm pretty sure it's not in order to enjoy ourselves." (Laughter) He was a cheerful bastard wasn't he? (Laughter)
Pirmais ir Ludvigs Vitgenšteins, kurš teica: "Es nezinu, kādēļ mēs esam šeit. Bet tas noteikti nav tādēļ, lai izklaidētos." (Smiekli) Viņš bija jautrs nelietis, ne tā? (Smiekli)
And secondly and lastly, W.H. Auden, one of my favorite poets, who said, "We are here on earth to help others. What the others are here for, I've no idea." (Laughter) (Applause)
Otkārt, un visbeidzot, V.H. Audens, viens no maniem mīļākajiem dzejniekiem, sacīja: "Mēs esam šeit uz zemes lai palīdzētu citiem. Kādēļ šeit ir arī citi, es nezinu." (Smiekli) (Aplausi)