Your Friendly Neighborhood Theoretical Physicists
Written by Saee Risbud
Illustrated by Hanming Li
I remember when I sat down at the theater with a bowl of popcorn and watched the Avengers travel through space and time. I remember when I saw Spiderman operate a suit made entirely from nanotechnology. What makes these moments so believable? Maybe it’s the ambient theater, full of adoring fans, tricking us into thinking, “but of course Thor and Loki would escape the evil Grandmaster through a giant wormhole. Makes perfect sense!” Maybe… but I think a few chosen scientists would disagree with that.
Science and Hollywood have long been rubbing elbows, but with increased demand for science fiction movies and the exposure of scientific ideas to audiences by the internet, filmmakers have to be extra careful that the movies they make are somewhat believable. This is the world of scientific advisors: they make the science in the Marvel Cinematic Universe just accurate enough for us to believe it. If it wasn’t for Sean Carroll, a physicist at CalTech, the frost giants in Thor would have defied all gravitational laws and fallen off the edge of a flat planet, turning an action packed fantasy into an ill-fated comedy. If it wasn't for Clifford Johnson, a theoretical physicist at USC, the time travel in Endgame might have remained inconsistent and confusing. We might not have figured out exactly what was wrong, but we would have definitely felt that something was off. The point of the science in these movies is not 100% accuracy, since the average movie-goer doesn’t recognize the difference. Otherwise, half the events in the story would be rendered impossible, making the Avengers just a bunch of guys running around in tights. The point is to create a universe that operates under a consistent set of laws and relates to how the average human being views the world. It's to make the characters in a story limited by whatever the laws of their universe are. If the characters could bend the universe to their will at whim, there wouldn’t be any conflict in the first place.
That’s not all scientific advisors do, though. Not only do they help make movies more believable, but they bring much-needed representation to films that are often youth-oriented. Clifford Johnson’s passion for representing women in STEM may have contributed to the brilliant Shuri from Black Panther, while Sean Carroll shapes Jane Foster into a pioneer in her field. These women were instrumental to their stories in a way that female scientists haven’t always been. Letita Wright, the actress who plays Shuri, champions this sentiment as well. When Black Panther came out, Wright received a “flood-load” of messages from young women and girls about how much they connected with Shuri. Shuri’s personality is rounded, determined, funny, brilliant, and cheeky. She’s a princess, a scientist, and someone that holds power in her society. She’s a hero figure and rightfully so. These young girls were able to see themselves in her character and began to think of science as something “cool.” They felt like they belonged in STEM, that they were doing what they were meant to do. Girls, especially those of underrepresented demographics, can open doors for themselves because of the inspiration a character like Shuri can provide for them. Science belongs to these young women just as much as anyone else, and the more role models there are that they can relate to, the better off they will be.
A franchise as massive as the Marvel Cinematic Universe bears a huge responsibility to show our youth that scientists don’t act or look the same. We need more characters like Shuri, because the millions of little girls around the world watching these movies deserve to see someone they relate to on-screen. These movies give future children a more open-minded outlook towards science and inspire them to become scientists themselves. At the very least, they’ll be able to appreciate science as something personal to them. They can learn to enjoy science before they’re forced to sit through an hour-long biology lecture three times a week.
All I’m trying to say is that when we finally unglue our eyes from a superhero movie, exhilarated but tired, legs sore from sitting for two hours, we won’t be questioning the physics involved in interdimensional wormhole travel. We’ll go home with a new found identity in characters like Shuri. As we exit the theater, we’ll walk right behind two little kids going on and on about how cool it was that Peter Parker, just a seventeen-year-old kid, cured interdimensional supervillains using handmade tools and serums. We’ll watch them go home inspired by new heroes that represent them as they are, especially the kids who haven’t received that kind of representation before. It all makes perfect sense!