In 1955, someone secretly stole Einstein’s brain and stored it in mayonnaise jars. That was just the beginning

Seven hours after Albert Einstein’s death, Thomas Harvey was preparing to perform an autopsy on the body at the Priceton Hospital morgue. It was April 18, 1955 and Otto Nathan, friend and executor of the famous physicist, was present: old Albert had become in the “greatest rock star of the 20th century”but he wanted the cult of his person to end there.

The pathologist would perform the autopsy, the family would collect the body and secretly cremate it before scattering its ashes in the Delaware River. And so it was. Or, well, that’s what the family believed.

Not in my lair. Because inadvertently, without prior documented permission and as quickly as he could, Thomas Harvey removed Einstein’s brain and kept it (in a jar full of formaldehyde). At first he kept it a secret, but no one steals the brain of the great genius of the 20th century to keep it a secret. The news, in a matter of hours, spread like wildfire.

And, in fact, on the 20th the New York Times posted that something was happening with the brain. The family panicked, but shortly before publication (and following a fait accompli policy) Harvey managed to convince Hans Albert Einstein, the eldest son, to give him retrospective permission.

I imagine Hans didn’t have much room for maneuver: Harvey had the brain in his possession. It was ‘give him permission’ or, perhaps, lose him forever. Einstein’s son set conditions, of course: the main one is that the organ be used for scientific purposes.

It wasn’t going to be possible either. Especially because Harvey ‘fell in love’ with the brain and, despite Princeton Hospital’s efforts to have him deposit it, the pathologist repeatedly refused. To the point where, at the end of the year, he is fired. That’s when he took the brain to the University of Pennsylvania and, in a friend’s lab, divided it into about 240 pieces and created 12 sets of slides.

Fired and sidelined, Harvey sent 42 of the samples to different forensic experts and neurologists for investigation. That was their plan to return through the front door: the majority did not respond and those who did did not find anything notable.

So things really started to go wrong. As a result of his stubbornness, his marriage breaks down. At some point in the 1960s, divorce forces him to take the glass jars containing his brain out of the basement and go to the Midwest. And, deep down, he was lucky.

On the one hand, none of the affected institutions wanted to speak publicly about this so as not to compromise their prestige. On the other hand, the courts were not as involved in American life, nor did information flow with the same ease. So found a job in Wichita and he kept the brain in the same refrigerator where he had the beer.

Until someone finds it. That someone is Steven Levy, a journalist for New Jersey Monthly. In August 1978, Levy told your brain search of the physical. When she found him in Kansas, Harvey didn’t want to talk, but he quickly loosened his tongue.

And, of course, it was a scandal.

Throughout the 1980s, he sent samples to some researchers (a Marian Diamond, Berkeley neuroanatomistsent him four samples in a mayonnaise jar), but his ambition was to study it himself in his free time.

Things get complicated. Because at the end of the 80s, Harvey lost his license and moved to Lawrence, Kansas, to work in a plastic extrusion factory. He spends his nights getting drunk with William S. Burroughs and welcoming those who come to see him. Convinced by journalists, he did a lot of strange things: from cutting pieces on a cheese board to taking, now in his eighties, a trip to California to talk to Einstein’s granddaughter.

Finally, between 1998 and 2007 (when Harvey died), was donating parts from the brain to Princeton Hospital. However, that is the most interesting thing we have been able to get out of this organ of contention: its delirious history is more interesting than what scientists have been able to get out of it.

Something that reminds us of a phrase normally attributed to Richard Feynman: “it’s worth having an open mind, but not so much that your brain falls out” (or has it stolen).

Image | Taton Moise

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