Throughout history, brave men and women of science have been willing to risk scorn and ridicule to defend unpopular beliefs. For almost twenty-five years Professor Lawrence Kimball worked alone on a secret project in a dingy basement laboratory at the Institute of Human Studies. When he was not there, his lab was locked and no one, not even maintenance, was permitted entry. He never discussed his project with his colleagues, hinting only that he was on the verge of a discovery that might someday earn him recognition in the annals of science.
Finally, at the annual symposium, he asked to be recognized. Striding to the podium, his glasses falling down his nose, his wild hair flowing in a slight breeze, he cleared his throat and said, "I am pleased to be able to report the results of the study of my lifetime. Ladies and gentlemen, I have found irrefutable evidence that there is a direct relationship between breast size and intelligence!"
The room erupted. Angry voices shouted at him. The director of the institute stood up and said, "I can tell you, Professor Kimball, that that is about the dumbest thing I have ever heard."
Professor Kimball did not back down in the face of ridicule. As men of science have done for hundreds of years, he defended his research. "Not only that," he shouted above the din, "my research shows that results are the same whether the subject has breast implants or natural breasts!"
"This is absurd," the director said, "this is ridiculous."
"You're wrong," the professor insisted, holding up his thick report. "I have proof. It is right here. There can no longer be any doubt, the larger the breasts, the dumber the man."