London Letter:Nearly 200 years ago, Michael Faraday, who discovered electromagnetism, enthralled young children in the Royal Institution on Albemarle Street near London's Green Park, when he spoke on the chemical history of the candle.
The institution was set up in 1799 by a group led by Joseph Banks and Henry Cavendish, who each contributed 50 guineas, to apply science, in their words, to “the common purposes of life”.
Ten chemical elements, including sodium, were discovered there, as was the electrical generator and the atomic structure of crystals, while 15 of the scientists who called the institution home have won Nobel prizes.
Faraday, a brilliant communicator, delighted and frightened his audiences with the first demonstrations of the power of electricity, in an age when people feared the natural elements.
In all, he gave 19 Christmas lectures and they have been given every year since, bar three – attracting the likes of Carl Sagan and others who gave papers such as The Cosmic Onion and Journey to the Centre of the Brain.
His role as explainer of science to the general public is today best captured, perhaps, by the ever-popular David Attenborough or the effervescent Brian Cox, both of whom followed Faraday’s path. For over 30 years, the lectures were a staple of the Christmas TV diet on the BBC, although they have followed a wayward path in the years after, flitting from Channel 4 to Channel 5 to More 4.
For the last two, the lectures – for some a central element in the fight to persuade the young of the benefits of science, for others a very middle-class indulgence – have featured on the highly regarded, if not mainstream, BBC4. If the relevance of the institution’s most public offering has been questioned, so too has the institution, after a renovation of its Mayfair headquarters went disastrously over budget.
By 2010, the institution’s annual losses were running at £2.6 million a year, though heavy cost-cutting has brought this figure down to £600,000 annually.
Nevertheless, an overhanging debt of £5 million led to its trustees last year considering selling all, or most, of the iconic Albemarle Street property, or sub-letting it – sacrilegious acts, in the eyes of detractors.
Even former friends considered their allegiance: the scientific journal Nature opined that the institution’s belief that “science lives here” is questionable in an age when so much has moved to the internet.
The institution, naturally, disagrees, pointing out that access to its riches comes from as little as £40 a year, while its YouTube channel has been viewed a million times.
Blessed with a letter to the Daily Telegraph signed by Attenborough and others, the institution has drawn in grandees such as Robert Winston and the aforementioned Cox to draw up a future path.
A deadline for the findings of the group – which includes Jim Al Khalili, best known for his recent TV series on the periodic table – has yet to be set, while even the ground to be travelled is as yet unclear.
“This is our opportunity to create a national strategy for science communication, advocacy and public engagement if we want Britain to be the best place in the world to do science,” said institution chairman Richard Sykes.
The refurbishment of Albemarle Street had been planned as a rebirth, making the grade I-listed building less intimidating to the uninitiated, along with adding a fine restaurant.
However, the economic crisis has depressed visitor numbers, while properties elsewhere in London that had long produced steady incomes had to be sold off to pay for the escalating construction bill.
If sold, Albemarle Street would, given its prime location, yield up to £60 mil- lion, while insiders say that there has been no shortage of interested buyers inspecting the corridors once walked by Faraday and other giants.
Appalled by the prospect, University College London’s professor of renaissance studies Lisa Jardine says: “We’re going to lose the equivalent of Shakespeare’s Globe theatre.”
Not everyone agrees. In a blog, Adam Smith of the Rationalist Association mused that science could be applied anywhere, “in a university, in your garden or even in your mind, but rarely in a posh and centuries-old Mecca in Mayfair”.
Today’s woes for the institution are nothing new, judging by a letter from its first treasurer, John Hippisley, who recollected “with pain” the difficulties to the Earl of Hardwicke.
“Our capital was exhausted and the corporation was £3,000 in debt, insomuch that a proposal was then made at the board to shut up the house of the institution and to bring all the effects to a sale for a discharge of its debts,” he wrote.
“Fortunately a better determination prevailed. A liberal subscription among the members immediately took place. The debt was paid off and near £3,000 was invested for a time in the public funds.”
Its best discoveries were made in the years immediately afterwards, points out Richard Sykes, who insists that the institution’s ability to adapt “is testament to its enduring relevance”.
Its supporters must hope that others agree.
