Won it…by a nose

Why are arguments no longer solved by swordplay? Just imagine the time we could have saved over the last three months if Farage and Cameron simply rose aloft their claymores and went at it. Winner takes all, to hell with a vote. Could we suggest the same for scientific debate?

Yes, we could – because we have a new scientific pin-up. A scientist so eccentric that he shames our modern obsession with conformity and sends it scurrying into a dull, mundane corner. If you have yet to meet, let us introduce you to Tycho Ottesen Brahe – A moustachioed, intellectual titan of a 16th Century Danish nobleman. Scientifically you may know him for his accurate and comprehensive astronomical observations, or the fact that his data was used by a certain Johannes Kepler to develop his laws of planetary motion. Perhaps you know him as the Aristotle refuting, supernova spotting, lunar theorist who contributed to the scientific revolution towards the tail end of the Renaissance era. Reason enough, you might think, to consider him somewhat of a hero – but our idols need more to them than that. And more is exactly what you get with Tycho.

At this juncture we should point out that the reason we originally become aware of Tycho was some work carried out on his moustache. His death at the age of 54 in 1601 has been surrounded by controversy – one theory suggests he was poisoned, possibly even by his protégé Kepler. Two exhumations later however, it now seems as if the offending mercury levels in his hair which initially aroused suspicion are, in fact, not high enough to suggest foul play.

And so back to our original motion – swordplay, and its role in forming scientific consensus. One of our favourite things about him was his passion for the truth – and nothing illustrates this more than an incident in 1566 that ended up with him losing part of his nose. After several intellectual battles with a fellow Danish nobleman over the legitimacy of a mathematical formula, the pair – having no means to settle it otherwise – resolved the issue with a duel. In the dark. The outcome of which was that poor Tycho had the bridge of his nose sliced off. Which mathematical formula, and if he did enough to win his argument has been lost in the annals of history, but what is known is that he began to wear a prosthetic to cover his injury.

It is this passion that captures our interest, but it is all the little idiosyncratic cherries on the eccentric cake that really endear us to him. Tycho often held large social gatherings in his castle, where he regularly entertained visitors with a tame elk – a tame elk that having picked up a few too many of his fellow human traits met his end, as he did, by getting drunk and falling down the stairs. Tycho suddenly contracted a bladder ailment after attending a banquet in Prague, and died eleven days later. According to Kepler’s first-hand account, Tycho had refused to leave the banquet to relieve himself because it would have been a breach of etiquette.

Proving that the only thing more notable than his intellect or eccentricity was his unerring politeness. And so to Tycho Ottesen Brahe, we salute you. The god father of modern astronomy – yes. An intellectual spark that helped ignite a scientific revolution – definitely. But more importantly he did so with eccentric brilliance that still has people talking today.