Quiet experts in shaping this world

In this age of chest-thumping on social media, it’s easy to mistake fleeting attention for lasting influence. As the son of two pioneering researchers in mental health, I’ve learned that true impact comes from those who work quietly, diligently, and against the prevailing narrative.

My father, dopamine scientist Philip Seeman who died in 2021, devoted his life to understanding the biological basis of schizophrenia. His groundbreaking work on dopamine receptors laid the foundation for modern neuropsychiatry. At the time, his ideas were considered contrarian and counter to the prevailing scientific narrative. Despite deep skepticism from his peers, he persisted tirelessly in his belief that dopamine pathways were crucial to understanding schizophrenia.

This persistence paid off. Just last week, the FDA approved KarXT (xanomeline-trospium), a new drug for schizophrenia that acts on a  mechanism involving muscarinic receptors. It’s the first new class of medication for schizophrenia in more than 30 years, with the power to mitigate symptoms and harmful side effects associated with current antipsychotic medications.

While KarXT represents a new approach that doesn’t directly target dopamine receptors, it still builds upon decades of research into the neurobiology of schizophrenia, including my father’s foundational discoveries about the importance of investigating new pathways in biological psychiatry. This new drug, Cobenfy by Bristol Myers Squibb, offers a novel treatment strategy, targeting muscarinic receptors to modulate brain circuits involved in schizophrenia symptoms.

My father didn’t do it alone. In 2000, the Nobel Prize in Medicine was awarded to scientists Arvid Carlsson, Paul Greengard, and Eric Kandel “for their discoveries concerning signal transduction in the nervous system.” These brain researchers and many other lesser-known scientists transformed our understanding of schizophrenia, enabling the development of more effective treatment today for a condition affecting approximately one percent of the world’s population. Astonishing.

Meanwhile, my mother and women’s mental health researcher, Mary Seeman, challenged societal norms by treating women with schizophrenia as full, equal human beings capable of benefiting from group therapy. She died in April of this year. In the 1970s, hers was a radical notion. Her work quietly revolutionized treatment approaches, emphasizing dignity and potential where others saw only illness—or even blamed mothers for their children suffering from this debilitating brain disease.

Neither of my parents wrote newspaper columns or cultivated social media followings. Yet their influence continues to shape lives everywhere, decades later. This stands in stark contrast to the often ephemeral impact of even the most widely-read opinion pieces or viral posts.

My father taught his students, me, and my two older brothers how “Slow is fast.” This seemingly paradoxical statement embodies a profound truth: lasting change often requires time, patience, and persistence. It’s a concept that resonates deeply with Jewish thought. The Pirkei Avot asks and then answers: “Who is wise? One who learns from every person… Who is strong? One who overpowers their inclinations… Who is rich? One who is satisfied with their lot” (4:1). These qualities – continuous learning, humility, self-discipline, and contentment – are the hallmarks of those who make lasting contributions. We all know such people. We need to empower them.

The Talmudic sages spent their lives in quiet study, yet their words continue to shape Jewish life millennia later. Similarly, scientific discoveries made in hushed laboratories ripple through generations, influencing countless lives.

In our rush to be heard in the cacophony of modern media, we often forget the power of scientific papers, of heavily researched non-fiction books, and of contrarian ideas to change narratives and shape the flow of human knowledge in perpetuity. While a viral post might reach thousands instantly, a seminal discovery—or the mentorship and kindness shown toward someone who breaks new ground in any field—can positively influence millions over decades or centuries.

True expertise is built slowly, through years of dedicated study, self-questioning, and experimentation. The quiet experts – the researchers, the scholars, the investigative journalists, the innovators working diligently out of the spotlight – are often the ones who truly shape our world.

In honoring the legacy of quiet experts like my parents and others, we recognize that lasting influence isn’t measured in likes or shares, but in lives improved and knowledge advanced. Their work reminds us that oftentimes to move fast, we must be willing to go slow. Or hurry – slowly.