In my last post, I talked about a resurgence of cabinets of curiosity, the Renaissance predecessor to modern day museums filled with unusual natural and artificial objects that the collector found inspiring, anomalous, or delightful.
For me, looking at the world as a cabinet of curiosity is a marvelous way to soak in the wonder that surrounds us and that we usually take for granted. Now, I wouldn't dare suggest that there's a Renaissance revival afoot, but I'm optimistic that the pendulum is swinging at least slightly back toward the hey-day of natural history, citizen science, backyard astronomy, and other spirited intellectual pursuits. Several recent museum exhibitions have explored the cabinets of curiosity as an organizational principle. Indeed, one was dedicated to the appropriately odd juxtaposition of art and cryptozoology, the study of "unknown animals" like Bigfoot and Mothman, a winged creature that in the late 1960s reportedly frequented Point Pleasant, West Virgina just across the Ohio river.
Many blogs, including the one I co-edit, have been described as virtual cabinets of curiosity - storehouses of unusual links, odd memes, fringe culture, and weird news. Nearly every major city has at least one carefully-curated "Olde Curiosity Shoppe" selling strange objets d'art and natural oddities packaged as Victorian chic. In fact, I was recently struck by the obviously wunderkammer-inspired display of mounted insects and red coral on sale at a mainstream home decor store in the mall. And in the ultimate evidence of a trend, at least two coffee table books on the subject have been published in the last few years.
Most of all though, I'm heartened by the unbridled curiosity fueling today's passionate DIY movement. A growing number of ingenious individuals are hacking Priuses to boost the gas mileage, installing Linux on iPods to record high-quality audio, and building backyard weather balloons. On one hand, these makers are dissatisfied with off-the-shelf products. At a deeper level though, they're driven by a daring inquisitiveness about what lies "under the hood" of today's technology and how they can better what they buy, or build it from scratch. For these makers - in the tradition of crafters, tinkers, scientists, engineers, artisans, and hot rodders who came before - the process is the product. The fun is in the fix. No user serviceable parts inside? Says who.
I'm optimistic that in the coming few years, the DIY movement will reach not only widespread awareness but widespread participation. I'm optimistic that smart companies, instead of criminalizing hackers, will encourage these user-innovators and solicit their feedback to design better products. I'm optimistic that science education in the United States can be saved if students are given the opportunity to learn by doing, not just by reading about what someone else has done.
When I watch a screwdriver-wielding maker eagerly voiding another warranty, I see a spark of the same childlike curiosity that fills a baby's eyes as he first explores his world, optimistic that something wonderful lies ahead.
David Pescovitz is co-editor of boingboing.net, research director at Institute for the Future and editor-at-large of MAKE. The above was excerpted from an essay that originally appeared on Edge.org and in the book What Are You Optimistic About?