Johannes Diderik van der Waals

The carpenter's son who revealed the hidden forces holding our world together

Most people think of molecules as tiny, perfectly behaving spheres bouncing around like billiard balls. Johannes van der Waals knew better. This Dutch physicist understood that molecules were messy, sticky, and beautifully imperfect—and that their imperfections were what made life itself possible. His insights into the weak forces between molecules would eventually help explain everything from why geckos can walk on ceilings to how proteins fold in our bodies.

Timeline of Key Moments

• 1837 - Born in Leiden, Netherlands, to a carpenter father and housewife mother
• 1862 - Becomes a primary school teacher despite lacking formal higher education credentials
• 1865 - Begins teaching at a secondary school in Deventer while studying part-time
• 1873 - Completes his doctoral dissertation "On the Continuity of the Gaseous and Liquid States" at age 36
• 1877 - Appointed professor of physics at the newly established University of Amsterdam
• 1881 - Publishes his law of corresponding states, extending his molecular theory
• 1890s - Develops theory of binary mixtures and capillarity
• 1910 - Awarded the Nobel Prize in Physics "for his work on the equation of state for gases and liquids"
• 1912 - Retires from University of Amsterdam but continues research
• 1923 - Dies in Amsterdam at age 85, having lived to see his theories confirmed by emerging atomic physics

The Human Story

Johannes van der Waals grew up in a world where education was a luxury his family couldn't afford. His father built furniture with his hands; Johannes would build theories with his mind. But first, he had to overcome a system designed to keep working-class children in their place. Without the classical languages required for university admission, he became a primary school teacher—a respectable but limiting career for someone whose curiosity burned far brighter than his circumstances suggested.

For years, van der Waals taught children during the day and taught himself advanced mathematics and physics at night. He was already 28 when new education laws finally allowed him to attend university lectures without the classical prerequisites. Even then, he continued teaching to support his family while pursuing his studies part-time. This wasn't the typical path of a future Nobel laureate, but it gave him something invaluable: patience and the ability to see complex problems from first principles.

The breakthrough that would define his legacy came from questioning something everyone else took for granted. The ideal gas law worked beautifully for gases under normal conditions, but van der Waals noticed it failed spectacularly when gases were compressed or cooled. Instead of dismissing these failures as exceptions, he saw them as clues to a deeper truth about the nature of matter itself.

Working in his modest study, van der Waals imagined molecules not as mathematical points but as real objects with actual size that took up space and attracted each other with weak forces. This seems obvious now, but in 1873, it was revolutionary. His famous equation—which modified the ideal gas law to account for molecular size and intermolecular attractions—didn't just fix the mathematical problems. It revealed that there was no fundamental difference between gases and liquids, just different manifestations of the same underlying molecular reality.

When van der Waals defended his doctoral thesis at age 36, he was already a middle-aged teacher with a family to support. The academic establishment initially received his work with skepticism. How could someone without a traditional academic pedigree make such bold claims about the fundamental nature of matter? But the mathematics was undeniable, and the predictions his equation made about the behavior of real gases proved remarkably accurate.

The Nobel moment came in 1910, nearly four decades after his groundbreaking work. Van der Waals was 73 years old, long retired, and had watched his theories gradually gain acceptance as experimental techniques improved. When the telegram arrived announcing his Nobel Prize, he was reportedly more surprised than elated. "I had given up hope of receiving such recognition," he told his family. The prize money allowed him to live comfortably in his final years, but more importantly, it validated a lifetime of patient, methodical work that had often been overlooked by flashier discoveries.

The Nobel Committee specifically honored his equation of state, but van der Waals's deeper contribution was showing that the messy, imperfect behavior of real matter—the very deviations that others dismissed as inconvenient—contained the keys to understanding the physical world. His "van der Waals forces," the weak attractions between molecules, would later be recognized as fundamental to everything from the structure of DNA to the properties of materials.

Van der Waals never sought fame or dramatic breakthroughs. He was methodical, thorough, and deeply committed to understanding rather than impressing. His approach reflected his working-class origins: he valued substance over style, persistence over brilliance, and practical understanding over theoretical elegance. When younger physicists began exploring atomic structure in the early 1900s, van der Waals watched with satisfaction as their discoveries confirmed his intuitions about molecular behavior.

The human cost of his dedication was significant. His wife died relatively young, and he raised their children largely as a single father while maintaining his research and teaching. He was known to work late into the night, filling notebook after notebook with calculations, driven by an almost compulsive need to understand the hidden mechanisms of nature. Colleagues described him as kind but intensely focused, someone who could become so absorbed in a problem that he forgot to eat.

What made van der Waals extraordinary wasn't just his scientific insight but his persistence in the face of institutional barriers and personal hardships. He proved that revolutionary science could come from patient observation and careful thinking, not just from well-funded laboratories or prestigious positions. His work bridged the gap between the abstract mathematical physics of his era and the emerging atomic reality that would define the next century.

Revealing Quotes

On the nature of his discovery: "The path of science is not always straight. Sometimes we must follow the deviations to find the truth." This reflected his approach of studying the "failures" of existing theories rather than dismissing them.

From his Nobel acceptance speech: "I have always believed that the apparent irregularities in nature's behavior are not flaws to be ignored, but messages to be decoded." This captured his fundamental philosophy that exceptions reveal deeper truths.

On his unconventional background: "Perhaps it was an advantage that I came to physics through teaching rather than through the traditional academic route. I learned to explain things simply before I learned to make them complicated." He said this late in life, reflecting on how his teaching experience shaped his scientific approach.

On persistence: "The molecule does not care about our theories. It simply behaves as it must. Our job is to watch carefully and think clearly until we understand." This quote, from a letter to a colleague, exemplified his patient, observational approach to science.

Near the end of his life: "I am grateful to have lived long enough to see that the forces I proposed between molecules are real. It is a privilege to witness one's ideas take root in the minds of others." This showed his deep satisfaction at seeing his work validated and extended by later generations.

Legacy and Lessons

Van der Waals's story teaches us that transformative insights often come from questioning the assumptions everyone else accepts without thinking. His willingness to take seriously the "imperfections" in existing theories—the very deviations that others dismissed—led to a deeper understanding of reality itself. The weak intermolecular forces that bear his name are now known to be crucial for life: they help proteins fold correctly, allow DNA strands to separate and recombine, and enable the complex chemistry that makes biological systems possible.

His journey from carpenter's son to Nobel laureate demonstrates that scientific excellence can emerge from unexpected places and unconventional paths. Van der Waals succeeded not despite his working-class background and late start, but partly because of them. His teaching experience gave him clarity of thought, his practical upbringing gave him respect for observable reality over abstract theory, and his struggles gave him the persistence to pursue difficult problems for decades.

Perhaps most importantly, van der Waals showed that science advances through patient accumulation of understanding, not just dramatic breakthroughs. His Nobel Prize came nearly four decades after his key discovery, a reminder that the most important scientific work often takes time to be fully appreciated. In our age of rapid publication and instant recognition, his example suggests that some truths are worth waiting for—and that the scientist who can sustain curiosity and rigor over a lifetime may ultimately contribute more than those who burn bright and brief.