“Laughter, Fear, and Freedom: Nobel, Ig Nobel, and a Bravery Drink”

“The wine of science can be aged and solemn… or sparkling, with laughter in the glass.”

Introduction

Awards, like wines, come in many varieties. Some are served ceremoniously in crystal goblets — with golden medals and millions of dollars. Others are poured into plain plastic cups — with cardboard trophies and half-joking applause. Yet in both cases they tell the same story: humanity’s attempts to understand itself and the world. Seriousness and irony sit side by side at the same table, and there’s always room between them for a glass and a conversation.

Thus was born the duet: the Nobel Prize — strict, academic, prestigious — and its “younger sister,” the Ig Nobel Prize — ironic and mischievous. Both speak about humankind, in its genius and in its paradoxes.

And let us begin with the man who first thought of turning his personal sense of guilt into a global award for humanity.

Chapter 1

🎬 …Alfred Nobel’s study, 1895

A dimly lit room. Autumn rain taps on the windows of Stockholm. On the heavy desk lie an inkwell, stacks of papers, and patent drawings of dynamite charges. In the fireplace, the fire burns low.

At the desk sits Alfred Nobel (1833–1896), Swedish chemist, inventor of dynamite, entrepreneur, and philanthropist.

Alfred (tiredly, to himself):
I believed that dynamite would rid humanity of wars. I thought: if every army possessed such a deadly weapon, no one would dare pull the trigger first. The horror of losses would outweigh the desire to fight…

He rises slowly, walks to the window, gazes at the rain-drenched streets.
But it turned out otherwise. People did not stop. They learned to kill faster, louder, more terribly. And now I bear the mark — “merchant of death.”

He returns to the desk, opens a thick notebook.
Perhaps I can atone for at least part of my guilt. Let my name remain not only in the history of wars and explosions… Let it be tied to those who bring true benefit to humankind. To those who heal, who write, who discover, who build peace.

He dips the pen into the inkwell and begins writing the first lines of his will, in which he bequeaths most of his considerable fortune to create a foundation that would annually reward those who brought “the greatest benefit to mankind.” Thus was born the famous Nobel Prize.

🎬 …Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1991

The editorial office of Annals of Improbable Research (AIR): an old wooden table buried under piles of manuscripts and journals. Half-finished coffee mugs, overflowing ashtrays. The air is thick with cigarette smoke, through which one can barely read the sign on the wall: “No smoking.”

Marc Abrahams (editor-in-chief) taps his pencil on the table:
Colleagues, science is a very serious business — you know that as well as I do. But next to great discoveries, there are always works that first make you laugh — in a bar, in a lecture hall, or here in our smoke-filled office — and make you pinch yourself: am I dreaming? And then you realize: they carry meaning too. Why not reward exactly such “strange” research?

Editor #1 (skeptic, flicking ash into the already full tray):
But there’s already the Nobel Prize. Won’t it look like we’re just feeding off its glory?

Abrahams (smirks):
Let it be! We’re not laughing at science — we’re laughing with it. When humanity laughs at itself, it becomes wiser.

Editor #2 (joker, coughing from the smoke):
So, we’ll hand out awards for “giggles,” for the mad fantasies of not-quite-normal people?

Abrahams:
No. For what makes you laugh first — and think afterwards.

Editor #3 (grumbling, pouring more lukewarm coffee and scattering cookie crumbs on his sweatshirt):
And what shall we call this “anti-award”?

Abrahams (scribbling in his notebook):
Nobel… ignoble… Ig Nobel. “The ignoble Nobel!” A wordplay: Nobel ↔ Ig Nobel (noble ↔ ignoble).

Laughter breaks through the smoke, coffee cups clink against the table — and in this half-serious, half-playful atmosphere is born an idea that will soon become a permanent fixture of the cultural calendar of science — and beyond.

Linguistic Acrobatics

The surname Nobel (Swed. Nobelius → Nobel) and the English word noble share the same Latin root: nobilis (“notable, renowned, noble”).

The Nobel family came from southern Sweden, and in the 17th century Alfred Nobel’s ancestors Latinized their name to Nobelius. Later it was shortened to its modern form, Nobel. In English, the word noble preserved the same origin. That is why the wordplay Nobel ↔ noble ↔ ignoble sounds so effective.

And what about other languages?

French: Prix Ig Nobel — a direct borrowing; the pun works through the word ignoble (“shameful”).

German: Ig-Nobelpreis — they kept the original form, playing with ignobel (“unworthy”).

Spanish: Premios Ig Nobel — also a direct borrowing, understood through innoble (“low, ignoble”).

Japanese: イグノーベル賞 (Igunōberu-shō) — a phonetic transcription of the English sound, without additional wordplay.

Chinese: 搞笑诺贝尔奖 (Gǎoxiào Nuòbèi’ěr Jiǎng) — literally “Funny Nobel Prize.” Here they moved away from the Latin roots and put the accent on humor.

And in Russian, translators — true to tradition — went their “special way”: they played on the similarity of nobelevskaya and the slang word shnobel (from Yiddish: “big nose”).

That’s how the Шнобелевская премия (“Snobel Prize”) came to be — having nothing in common with the original English name, but catching on as a household joke that stuck in Russian speech.

Charles de Gaulle in a friendly caricature — a playful exaggeration of his legendary profile with a prominent nose (no portrait likeness intended).”

The Nobel Prize

First ceremony.
The inaugural awards were presented in 1901 in Stockholm (and in Oslo for the Peace Prize). Since then, the Nobel Prizes have been awarded every year, with the exception of a few wartime interruptions.

Purpose

To support and encourage achievements in the five fields defined by Alfred Nobel himself: physics, chemistry, medicine/physiology, literature, and peace. Later, in 1968, the Bank of Sweden added the Prize in Economic Sciences “in memory of Alfred Nobel,” which has since become fully equal in status to the original categories.

Why so prestigious?

It was the first truly international award with a significant endowment, untied to any one country. Laureates are chosen by leading Swedish and Norwegian institutions, with input from other Nobel laureates worldwide. Over time, the prize has acquired immense symbolic capital: the Nobel Prize = “the pinnacle of human recognition.”

Financial side

The amount of the award depends on the year’s income from the Nobel Foundation. In recent years it has been around 11 million Swedish kronor (≈ 1 million USD). That sum is allocated to each of the five categories, and if there are multiple laureates in one field, it is shared among them. The Economics Prize carries the same monetary value, though it is funded separately by the Bank of Sweden.

Taxes

The payouts come from Sweden or Norway, and for foreigners they are not taxed at source. But laureates must pay taxes in their own country of residence.

United States: for American laureates, the award counts as income and is taxed federally (rates up to 37%). Many donate their prize money to charities to claim deductions.

France, Germany, and other European countries: the prize is taxed like ordinary income, often under high progressive rates.

 → Exceptions: in some countries, part of the sum may be exempt if donated to scientific or cultural institutions.

What a laureate actually receives

Besides the check and a gold medal, the Nobel transforms the winner into a global brand. That guarantees:

• An academic and professional boost — higher demand from universities and research centers.

• Invitations to leadership and advisory roles in international projects.

• Lucrative contracts and lecture tours worldwide, with honoraria running into tens of thousands per talk.

• Publishing deals — autobiographies, popular science, even fiction, eagerly contracted by publishers (“Nobel laureate” is a powerful marketing label).

• Media exposure — interviews with major outlets, appearances on TV, in documentaries, podcasts, public debates (from climate change to global politics).

• Social and symbolic capital — influence over policy and public discourse (notably Nobel Peace Prize laureates).

• Honorary doctorates, invitations to juries, academies, and international committees.

📌 In short: the Nobel Prize opens a “second life” for its laureates. For many, the money matters less than the passport into a global stage where the phrase “Nobel Prize winner” becomes an entry ticket to influence, recognition, and opportunity.

The Ig Nobel Prize

► Motto.
“First make people laugh, and then make them think.”

As noted above, the idea of a counter-Nobel came from Marc Abrahams, editor-in-chief of the journal Annals of Improbable Research. He first proposed it in 1990, and by the next year the first Ig Nobel laureates were announced at Harvard.

► What was the purpose?
Organizers described it this way:

• Laughter draws attention to unusual, sometimes absurd research — work that is “hard to reproduce,” sometimes impossible to explain, often seeming silly at first glance.

• Then reflection begins: could there be hidden scientific value or a fresh perspective behind the absurdity? Could such “strange” studies evolve into something more serious or practical? No one knows at the start.

• In this way, the Ig Nobel balances satire with science communication: it doesn’t belittle research, it makes it visible and approachable.

Where do the ideas come from?

Scientific sources: Real articles from peer-reviewed journals (PubMed, Scopus, Web of Science, university repositories).

Media sensations: Studies already making quirky headlines in Nature News, Science, New Scientist, etc.

Conferences: Occasionally, papers that broke out of narrow academic circles.

Nominations: Readers can submit tips; even scientists themselves often send in their own work — because being an Ig Nobel laureate is both fun and oddly prestigious.

Editorial selection: Abrahams and his team review hundreds of candidates yearly. Their rule: the work must make you laugh first, and think later. One condition is non-negotiable: the research must be real and published.

The award ceremony
Finalists are chosen by AIR’s editors together with a council of Nobel laureates who agree to participate. That is the charm: on the stage of Harvard’s Sanders Theatre, real Nobel Prize winners (in physics, chemistry, medicine, economics, etc.) present the trophies and diplomas to Ig Nobel recipients. The sight of world-class scientists handing out spoof awards creates an ironic contrast — solemnity meets silliness.

The prizes themselves

A diploma — deliberately comic in design.

A medal or trophy — usually cardboard, plywood, or made of scrap materials; each year’s design is different but always absurd.

Money — none. At most, recipients get symbolic sums in fictional or devalued currencies (e.g., “10 trillion Zimbabwean dollars,” worth only a few U.S. bucks).

📌 The effect: no cash or gold, but massive publicity. Ig Nobel winners land in newspapers, on TV, in memes — an explosion of attention.

Symbolism

Prestige or anti-prestige?

Most scientists take the award with good humor. Many attend in person, lecture, laugh. In academia, it’s now a kind of “paradoxical prestige”: proof your work was noticed — even if ironically.

Media exposure

Coverage in Nature, Science, The Guardian, NY Times, online forums. Sometimes the Ig Nobel even helps a project get funding or recognition it never would have otherwise. A few prefer to distance themselves, feeling mocked.

Does it “parasitize” on the Nobel Prize?

Debated since its inception in 1991.

Arguments for:

The very name Ig Nobel riffs on Nobel.

The ceremony mimics the grandeur of the real Nobel (speeches, diplomas, medals).

Media interest is fueled by that echo.

Arguments against:

It’s satire, not brand theft — organizers stress it’s about laughing with science.

• Over the years, it’s become a phenomenon in its own right, with its own traditions.

Educational value — thanks to the Ig Nobels, many laypeople first learn about obscure but fascinating research.

📌 Conclusion: The Ig Nobel began as a “parasite” on the Nobel’s fame, but has grown into its own cultural institution. It shows that science can be serious and funny at the same time — and that research which seems silly may hide real insight.

From Ig Nobel to Nobel — and Beyond

The “Flying Frog” (2000, Physics)

In 2000, Russian-born physicist Andre Geim (b. 1958) received an Ig Nobel Prize in Physics for studying how a frog behaves in a strong magnetic field. Like humans, frogs are mostly made of water. And water is diamagnetic — meaning that when exposed to an extremely strong magnetic field, the water molecules generate tiny currents that create their own opposing magnetic field. As a result, water (and anything composed of it) is repelled — like a cork bobbing out of water.

Geim and his team placed a live frog inside a powerful electromagnet. The field was so strong it pushed back against the water molecules inside the frog’s body. The upward force equaled gravity — and the frog levitated, suspended in midair as if weightless.

The frog wasn’t floating because it was in love, but because its body is 70% water — and water is a stubborn diamagnet that dislikes foreign magnets.

Ten years later, in 2010, Geim together with Konstantin Novoselov (b. 1974) received the real Nobel Prize in Physics for pioneering experiments with graphene, a two-dimensional material. That frog experiment had been a key step in exploring diamagnetism.

The path from Ig Nobel to Nobel was direct and dazzling: first a levitating frog that made the world laugh — then graphene that lifted its discoverers to the summit of modern science.

“Dandruff as Allergy Protection” (2006, Biology/Medicine)

In 2006, a group of Japanese researchers earned an Ig Nobel in Medicine for studying why people who live with cats and dogs suffer less from allergies.

One factor: constant exposure to flakes of skin, fur, and animal dandruff. These microparticles act like a form of “vaccination” — training the immune system to recognize and tolerate allergens.

At first, the research sparked jokes: headlines read “Scientists Prove Cat Dandruff Is Good for You.” The scientific value seemed buried under humor.

Practical outcome: the finding opened new avenues in allergology. It later inspired the development of treatments based on animal dander — and even human scalp dandruff. What began as a punchline became a contribution to medical science.

It didn’t win a Nobel, but it did help doctors treat serious conditions. A curiosity remained a curiosity — yet one that enriched science.

In the second chapter, we’ll uncork the “latest catch” of the Ig Nobel 2025 — all things spirited and spirited-away. Can a single glass of wine untie the tongue faster than fear can knot it?

mbabinskiy@gmail.com

To be continued…

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