The Unconscious Problem Solver

William James asks: ‘Why do we spend years straining after a certain sci-

entific or practical problem, but all in vain — thought refusing to evolve

the solution we desire? And why, some day, walking in the street with our

attention miles away from the quest, does the answer saunter into our

minds as carelessly as if it had never been called for — suggested possibly

by the flowers on the bonnet of the lady in front of us, or possibly by noth-

ing that we can discover? If reason can give us relief then, why did she not

do so sooner?

Henri Poincare, when talking about the creative process, says, ‘Often

when one works at a hard question, nothing good is accomplished at the

first attack. Then one takes a long rest and sits down anew to the work.

During the first half-hour, as before, nothing is found, and then all of a

sudden the decisive idea presents itself to the mind.’ This sequence of events

is not only evident in scientific quests — similar descriptions are found in

religious quests — for example, as described by (Saint) Theresa of Avila or

(Saint) John of the Cross. In religion, it may be described as ‘insight’; in sci-

entific circles it may be described as creativity.

Renowned physicist, Helmholtz, admitted that often his ideas ar-

rived suddenly, without any effort on his part, while taking easy walks over

wooded hills in sunny weather. Physicist Lord Kelvin reported receiving

inspiration in similar ways. He sometimes had to devise explanations for

deductions that came to him in a flash of intuition. Gauss described how a

solution came to him for an arithmetical theorem that he had spent years

trying to prove — like a sudden flash of lightning the riddle happened to be

solved. Henri Poincare, the famous mathematician, says that the appear-

ances of sudden illuminations are obvious indications of a long course of

previous unconscious work. Before and after, there had to be controlled

conscious work, but in between was some mysterious process. In a letter

to a French scientific journal in 1886, referring to an arithmetic theorem,

the proof of which eluded him for years, Gauss writes, ‘Two days ago, I suc-

ceeded, not on account of my painful efforts, but by the grace of God. Like

a sudden flash of lightning, the riddle happened to be solved.’2