Dying of Curiosity

Marie was a very curious kid.

According to her mother, she taught herself to read at the age of four by picking out the letters on signs and shop windows.

She had two teachers for parents, just like me. That meant her curiosity was encouraged from an early age, and it probably became natural for her to wonder about things.

Her father, a physics and mathematics teacher, instilled in her a love for science. My own father taught math in high school, and he instilled in me an early love for science.

Throughout her youth, Marie's curiosity served as a compass, guiding her through hardship and propelling her toward scientific breakthroughs.

It was this unwavering curiosity that led her to become one of the most brilliant and important scientists ever to live.

It was this curiosity that drove her work with radium, an element that turned out to give off dangerous fast-moving particles we now call radioactivity, and which ultimately killed Marie Curie.

Yesterday, I wrote about people who died because of their confidence.

Today, I want to share a few examples with you where setting out in the Sea of Troubles—of following one’s curiosity—led to death. Instead of sitting on their hands and watching the world go by, these folks let their curiosity lead the way, and they changed the world in doing so—and sealed their own fates.

I’m not sure Wan Hu’s story is one of curiosity or boldness, but it’s too good not to share. It’s also a tall tale, so maybe there’s as much as a grain of truth in the story, but probably not much more than that.

Wan Hu was obsessed with getting into space. As an important official in China’s Ming Dynasty (so one version of the story goes), he commanded a small cadre of assistants.

One day, Wan Hu set up a chair with kites on the bottom, and then he proceeded to attach 47 rockets to the chair. He then ordered his assistants to light the fuses and run away.

The story goes that the rockets exploded, and neither Wan Hu nor the chair were ever seen again.

This myth is really interesting because it’s often told as a cautionary tale against being too curious. The math really checks out!

Merriweather Lewis probably hadn’t heard of the myth of Wan Hu, and that might be considered tragic in retrospect.

When the Lewis and Clark expedition set out in 1804 (it was called the Corps of Discovery back then), Lewis was just about as prepared as he could be, gathering scientific equipment and studying various scientific disciplines.

Lewis was hand-picked by Thomas Jefferson: he had a military background, and Jefferson knew him well from the time when Lewis was his personal secretary. His experience in the military, particularly his skills in leadership, navigation, and survival in the wilderness, made him an ideal candidate for the rigors of an extended expedition into largely unknown territories.

Not only this, but Lewis and Jefferson shared a deep interest in natural science and exploration. Before the expedition, Jefferson arranged for Lewis to receive training in various scientific disciplines, including botany, natural history, medicine, and astronomy. This preparation was crucial for the expedition's goals of documenting new species of flora and fauna and mapping the geography of the West.

The expedition itself is another story for another day, but to summarize dramatically, it set out from St. Louis, moving up the Missouri River, across the Rocky Mountains, and eventually reaching the Pacific Ocean.

After the expedition, Lewis was appointed governor of the Louisiana Territory, but his tenure was marred by difficulties. The historical record suggests Lewis struggled with various issues, including possible mental health problems, financial difficulties, and the stresses of his administrative role.

The circumstances of Lewis's death in 1809 remain a subject of historical debate. While some suggest that the challenges and experiences he faced, including those from the expedition, might have impacted his mental health, the exact reasons remain unclear… but it’s hard for me to ignore the idea that PTSD probably continued to haunt him for the next few years after the expedition ended, right up until his death in 1809.

Lewis, Wan Hu, and Marie Curie all let curiosity take the wheel, and that cost them their lives. Much of the time, our best efforts fail spectacularly. Sometimes, the unintended consequences of our actions lead to tragedy affecting the world. Other times, it’s the person who is driven by curiosity to their very limits who ends up paying the ultimate price.

Hopefully the takeaway today isn’t to bury your curiosity, but instead to find the right balance of enthusiasm and caution. I always allow curiosity to be my own true north, and I write about something I’m curious about every single day. Then, I get to share that curiosity with you. That’s a really cool feeling!

However, I have to keep in mind that curiosity and that feeling of wonder won’t keep me safe. Instead of constant explosions, keep your curiosity kindling, and tap into that fire every day.

Can you think of anyone else who died of curiosity?