Sorry for it being late.
If you know me, which, because you're reading this, I assume you do, you know that my scientific knowledge is firmly grounded in biology, attached happily but not quite as firmly to chemistry, and waves enthusiastically at physics as it stands behind the fuzzy-translucent and as yet unscaled wall of calculus. You also know that, on the other side of the academic table, I am deeply and somewhat perversely in love with words, and nothing makes me happier than a particularly enjoyable text, whether it be fiction or nonfiction, prose or poetry, accompanied by clever pictures of monsters or set in twelve-point Times New Roman double spaced indented at every paragraph with a seemingly unending bibliography. I also really enjoy accessible essays about science. This is what leads me to be talking about some really serious, intense, and completely-beyond-my-area-of-expertise (a tiny, tiny island) physics.
"Surfing the Universe" by Benjamin Wallace-Wells. The New Yorker recently talked about Garret Lisi's ongoing Theory of Everything via a sort of biographical sketch. I get the impression that Wallace-Wells is only mostly sure about what to make of Lisi. He paints a mostly sympathetic picture of him, but when string theory comes up, you find Lisi is more rigid and uncompromising, and unable to concede anything at all to the opposition. It seems, for the most part, that when string theorists criticize his theory, he is dismissive of their opinion. (Exceptions to that were mentioned, but they seemed much less frequent.) On the other side, though, many string theorists are dismissive of his theory not only because the math isn't fully explored yet, but also because he is not a string theorist. So, in addition to discussing Lisi's theory while discussing Lisi, the article also paints a picture of the string theory war.
My naive and idealistic vision of science, while it does involve bitter disputes, because that is certainly documented well throughout scientific history, still focuses on the idea that the discipline is ultimately a unifying force; that even if there is disagreement, cooperation will lead to something both scientifically sound and acceptable to everyone. I expect because I'm not fully immersed in the world of academia I forget how, instead of the quest for knowledge transcending the natural human inability to accept that one is wrong, it is the other way around.
If you are very very very exceptionally good in math, or have been studying it for a very long time,
here is Lisi's theory, and you may make sense of it. I myself need it explained to me; so far it is a fuzzy shape with 248 very disorienting sides.