Albert Eschenmoser (1925–2023) Autobiography Chapter 6: Other Activities and Honors

My life as an ETH professor was multi-pronged; research and teaching were central, memberships in committees of ETH and of Abt. IV and Abt. X were not to be avoided, lecture tours and participation in symposia were part of the professional routine, endowed lectureships an honor, and visiting professorships a kind of academic vacation. Consulting with industrial research groups was interesting from a personal, scientific, and financial point of view. Memberships in scientific academies were true privileges, and honors, such as medals, prizes, or honorary degrees, were “the salt in the soup.” These were collaterals of my job as a researcher and teacher. A professor is his own entrepreneur, a free man in his research. But the freedom to do what one wants to do is coupled with the challenge to lead it to success. Success in research is crucial; success in teaching is desirable; actively serving on boards calls for authority. Consulting opens the view to the practical relevance of one’s science — and leads to the ownership of a house. I avoided membership in committees as far as possible and declined presidencies — be it of the ETH, the Bürgenstock Conference, or the Scientific Board of TSRI. The reasons for these refusals lie in my personality. The presidency of the SCS (1988 – 1990) could, however, not be avoided. The rules about the rotating chairmanship of the LOC left no choice either, but the regulations of the Departmental Board did; I was never head of department. On the other hand, I served the ETH as a member of the Permanent Commission of Professors from 1966 to 1975 and the Research Commission from 1982 to 1985. I served my country — though not enthusiastically — through my military service well into middle age, first as a lieutenant in the fortress artillery (Grimsel Fortress) and finally as a captain. The ominous Dienst­büchlein records a total of 931 days of service: recruit school, officer school, earning the rank of lieutenant, uncounted “dry” and actual firing courses in various places, and, finally, annual three-week refresher courses. The experience of comradeship and the austere mountain landscape around the Grimsel Pass compensated to some extent for the discomfort of having to enlist again and again. How many and what kind of chemical research ideas were lost as a result of these 931 days devoted to the army is “written in the stars.” [...] Note: This is the opening passage of the chapter.