Rocket Science, Parenting and Beyond

Every now and then one hears the catchphrases “It doesn’t require a degree in rocket science to figure out that….” Or “I may not be a rocket scientist but I know that…”

Rocket Science on Wikipedia leads us to a tiny article, 80% of which is:

Due to the complexity and depth of this area of engineering (requiring mastery in subjects including mechanics (fluid mechanics, structural mechanics, orbital mechanics, flight dynamics), mathematics, control engineering, materials science, aeroelasticity, avionics, reliability engineering, noise control and flight test), it is also informally used as a term to describe an endeavor requiring great intelligence or technical ability. More often, the term is used to describe an endeavor that is simple and straightforward by stating that the aforementioned endeavor "is not rocket science".

This is amusing.

I think that as such the courses one does in aerospace engineering (aka Rocket Science for the layman) do require a high amount of intellect, but then so does training at Langley or John Hopkins. I think it’s the whole feel of having thousands of buttons around you and being responsible for manning something which is so colossal and worth so many billions of dollars (with minimum scope for error) that enables Rocket Science to be revered as the final frontier in terms of intellect. As specialization increases, we perceive the task to become monumental because we start to dissociate from the field . It just happens that compared to other engineering branches, probably aerospace has a very high percentage of people going into specialization (for I don't think NASA really wants a jack o all trades).

Speaking of specialization, medicine also requires it, but then I guess, there are just too many doctors around.

I remember asking my mother, one of the best retina consultants in India today, about what she thought was the toughest job on the planet. True, I did expect a standardized answer. I placed my money on Rocket Science. I will never forget what happened next. She looked at me, and gently whispered

"Parenting"