It's very simple, actually. I don't have fancy reasons to share on this; I can't talk with authority about his propositions or his studies.
I have this thing called Dyscalculia. You've probably never heard of it because we're massively underdiagnosed. Most of us spend our lives thinking that we're broken or something because we can't seem to comprehend basic concepts that are pretty simple for most people. Spacing. Time. Numbers in general aren't my best friends.
There's a lot about the world I simply can't understand.
But the first time I listened to a talk by Richard Feynman he made me feel like I could get it.
My whole life I had thought that wasn't possible, but he made me feel like I could actually grasp very intricate concepts of physics, and theorems about molecular systems. He spoke about Quantum Electrodynamics with such ease.
He breezed through the concepts if you will. Concepts I thought I would never be able to relate to at all.
For most "normal" people it's clear that numbers and quantities are everywhere - But they don't need to think about them actively. It's almost an automatic process. Identifying the patterns that allow them to put a puzzle together, giving and receiving money, calculating the time it takes to get places, those are almost mindless tasks that come by default with the package of being a human. Or so it seems for some people, but certainly not for me.
For us, people with Dyscalculia, the world runs at a vastly different pace. We need to actively try and process these things all.the.time. It's exhausting, even when you eventually find your way around it. The long hours I’ve spent feeling like an ignorant idiot because of my lack of understanding are countless. There's nothing I hate more than feeling like an ignorant idiot.
And then there was Feynman.
He compared complicated wave theory to birds and bees, and flowers, and it all somehow made sense. Kinda?
I didn't understand the numbers or what they meant, and I will probably never be able to perform complex calculations but hearing the man speak felt like hope. It felt like for the first time I could relate those concepts to my observable universe. It felt like understanding. There's nothing I like more than understanding.
I had never felt excited about physics, or maths, or geometrical reflections or particle interactions or even light. But he made me feel it. And it changed everything for me. That's why I like him.