"One could write a history of science in reverse by assembling the solemn pronouncements of highest authority about what could not be done and could never happen"
About this Quote
Science doesn’t just advance on experiments; it advances on the spectacular half-life of certainty. Heinlein’s line is engineered as a quiet demolition job on “highest authority,” those gatekeepers whose confidence hardens into dogma precisely when they should be most provisional. The joke lands because it’s not really about science at all. It’s about status: who gets to declare the borders of the possible, and how often those borders turn out to be administrative, psychological, or political rather than factual.
The phrase “solemn pronouncements” does heavy lifting. “Solemn” evokes clergy and statecraft, not tinkering and trial-and-error. Heinlein frames expert opinion as a performance of seriousness, a social ritual that converts uncertainty into a public stance. The subtext is acidic: institutions reward defensible pessimism more than imaginative risk. Saying “it can’t be done” is safer than betting your reputation on “watch this.” When the future arrives and proves you wrong, the costs are dispersed; when you’re wrong too early, they’re personal.
“He could never happen” is also a tell. It’s not an empirical claim but a metaphysical one, the kind that smuggles prejudice in as realism. In Heinlein’s era, that carried Cold War undertones: rocket science, nuclear power, space travel, and the bureaucracies built around them. The intent isn’t to sneer at expertise; it’s to puncture its pretensions. By proposing a “history in reverse,” he flips progress into a catalog of elite misreadings, reminding us that the boundary between “impossible” and “not yet” is often just someone’s career talking.
The phrase “solemn pronouncements” does heavy lifting. “Solemn” evokes clergy and statecraft, not tinkering and trial-and-error. Heinlein frames expert opinion as a performance of seriousness, a social ritual that converts uncertainty into a public stance. The subtext is acidic: institutions reward defensible pessimism more than imaginative risk. Saying “it can’t be done” is safer than betting your reputation on “watch this.” When the future arrives and proves you wrong, the costs are dispersed; when you’re wrong too early, they’re personal.
“He could never happen” is also a tell. It’s not an empirical claim but a metaphysical one, the kind that smuggles prejudice in as realism. In Heinlein’s era, that carried Cold War undertones: rocket science, nuclear power, space travel, and the bureaucracies built around them. The intent isn’t to sneer at expertise; it’s to puncture its pretensions. By proposing a “history in reverse,” he flips progress into a catalog of elite misreadings, reminding us that the boundary between “impossible” and “not yet” is often just someone’s career talking.
Quote Details
| Topic | Science |
|---|---|
| Source | Time Enough for Love (1973) — aphorism from "The Notebooks of Lazarus Long" section, attributed to Robert A. Heinlein. |
More Quotes by Robert
Add to List






