Part 3: The Stories We Don't See

We tend to remember Nobel Laureates for what they achieved: the discovery, the theory, the book, the medical breakthrough or the act of courage that earned them one of the world's most famous prizes. But the Nobel Prize Museum in Stockholm offers us a rather different way of looking at these extraordinary people.

Nobel Laureates are invited to donate a personal object to the museum. It might be connected to their research, childhood, family or simply something that has meant something to them. The museum has collected more than 250 such objects, creating an unusual portrait of the people behind the prizes.

And what makes the collection so fascinating is that the objects are often completely ordinary.

Tech & AI Editor, BBC News Zoe Kleinman recently highlighted some wonderful examples.

Randy Schekman who won the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine, was saving for a microscope at the age of 12. His parents had taken money from his piggy bank and forgotten to replace it. Convinced that they had stolen it, he called the police. His parents eventually bought him the microscope.

Andrea Ghez, the Nobel-winning astrophysicist, offers a completely different glimpse into discovery. Looking at early observations of the supermassive black hole at the centre of our galaxy, she scribbled “holy shit!” near the top of a page of data. Before the scientific explanation came the sheer astonishment of seeing something extraordinary.

Carolyn Bertozzi, the 2022 Chemistry Laureate, chose a jar of peanut butter because she says it helps her think. And Albert Einstein's story is even more personal. He had promised his family that if he ever won the Nobel Prize, they would receive the prize money. By the time he did, he was divorced, but he kept his promise, and a letter to one of his sons about the money remains part of the story.

Some objects carry much heavier histories. Nadia Murad's black beaded dress was intended for a wedding on the day ISIS attacked her village. She was captured, the wedding never happened, and her village was eventually destroyed. When she returned, she found the dress still almost perfectly preserved.

But the museum's stories go far beyond these examples.

Andrew Fire, who shared the 2006 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine, donated his old public library card. His choice was a reminder of access to knowledge and the opportunity to explore ideas, a fitting object for someone whose own journey was shaped by learning.

Demis Hassabis, awarded the 2024 Nobel Prize in Chemistry, donated chess pieces, bringing to mind the childhood fascination with chess that became one thread in his extraordinary journey towards artificial intelligence.

And Makoto Kobayashi, who received the 2008 Nobel Prize in Physics, chose a book that had influenced his interest in physics. It is a simple reminder that sometimes a single book can open a door to an entirely new world.

Guido Imbens, who shared the 2021 Nobel Memorial Prize in Economics donated a Laundry Detergent. He and fellow economist Joshua Angrist discussed ideas while doing laundry at a laundromat. Imbens donates the detergent powder as a reminder of where the conversations happened.

Then there are objects that tell us something about the everyday lives of people whose achievements seem anything but ordinary: a favourite cup, a well-used dictionary, a childhood notebook or even an object that has nothing obvious to do with science or literature.

That may be what makes this collection so compelling.

We often imagine that extraordinary people were always extraordinary. But these objects take us backwards, to the childhood interests, books, friendships, habits, family relationships and small moments that existed before the breakthrough.

We don't know which of our seemingly small interests will matter twenty years from now. A book might change how we think. A hobby might become a career. A strange fascination might become a life's work. Or something we consider completely ordinary today might eventually become part of our story.

The breakthrough comes at the end of the journey.

The interesting part is everything that happens before it.

So, if you ever visit the Nobel Prize Museum in Stockholm, don't just look at the medals and prize citations. Look at the objects. They tell a much more personal story about achievement and remind us that behind every extraordinary prize is an extraordinarily human journey.

And now, a question for our students:

If you won a Nobel Prize one day, what would you leave behind?

It doesn't have to be impressive. It could be a book, a toy, a school notebook, your first computer, something your parents gave you or something you made yourself.

What would you choose, and what would it tell people about the person you were before the world knew your name?