Dr. Ivar Giaever

Dr. Ivar Giaever died in Schenectady, NY on June 20, 2025, at 96 years of age--a ridiculously long life as Ivar would often wryly say. Until the very end, Ivar was his usual snarky and charming self, regardless of the challenges of getting old and the loss of Inger, his beloved wife of 70 years whom he missed terribly. His daughters Anne and Trine were at his bedside, lovingly holding his hand when he passed.

Born on April 5, 1929, Ivar broke the mold time and time again throughout his long life. It is no surprise that his profound curiosity about the world, even as a child, prompted him to leave a tiny village in his native Norway with his small family and little money in 1954. He arrived in North America with a wife, baby, no job, and only $200 in his pocket. Even Ivar could not have imagined that he would become a renowned scientist and receive the Nobel Prize in Physics in 1973, only a short 20 years after he arrived in the United States. He was often asked about his storybook immigrant experience. He would always respond that life is random and unfair, but he had more than his share of good luck.

Luck surely went a long way in his achieving success, but it also helped that at an early age Ivar was a risk-taker, unafraid to ask questions about the world around him. A child with a technical bent, he loved taking apart old clocks, locks, farm machinery, and record players to figure out how they worked. Although not highly educated, his parents--his father John was a pharmacist, and his mother Gudrun was a homemaker--gave little Ivar a wide berth when it came to letting him discover things on his own. A born skeptic, Ivar never believed outright what he was told. He had to make sense of the world on his own. One Easter six-year-old Ivar refused to put his hat outside for the Easter bunny. (Norwegian children use their ski hats, not baskets as American children do.) Ivar had decided there was no Easter bunny and therefore putting out his hat would be absurd. His older brother decided to do so and ended up with lots of goodies. Skeptical Ivar got nothing! Thanks to his parents, he learned on that day that being “right” has consequences.

Ivar appreciated his rigorous upbringing and believed it contributed to his success as a scientist. He writes in his memoir, “In life and science it helps to know the rules so you can figure out when to obey them and when to try and break them.” Ivar grew up in a world where adults set the rules and children obeyed them. If Ivar and his siblings did not eat all the food they were served at dinner --even a fatty goose soup--it was served the next day for breakfast. The “potato vacation” children were sent on is another example of his rigid upbringing. For three weeks every fall, schools were closed owing to the seasonal potato harvest. Children were sent to the fields to pick up potatoes- a village staple. They would walk behind a spinning machine that would spray potatoes onto the churned-up soil. Adults had better things to do. Ivar became a voracious reader. Although not wealthy, Ivar’s parents loved to read and bought crates of books. Not surprisingly for someone with an adventurous spirit, young Ivar first found his joy of reading in the Tarzan books by Edgar Rice Burroughs. Books were no doubt a welcome escape from the hard work on the farm.

1 On April 9, 1940, life in Norway drastically changed for everyone. For the next five years, the Nazis occupied Norway using fear, violence, and extreme intimidation to suppress the Norwegian people. More than 90% of Norwegians at the time were against the Germans, Ivar’s family included. The occupation was especially incomprehensible to children. Complete blackouts were enforced, so that everybody had to have heavy black paper curtains covering all their windows. Owing to the increased darkness in the towns and villages, the Northern Lights and the stars were more visible than ever as children walked back and forth to school. But the darkness begat a frightening rumor about a ghost called the Black Lady. Many people claimed to have seen her. She wore black skirts and was a very fast cross-country skier, impossible to keep up with. Terrified children had to be on the look-out, especially Ivar who had a fear of the dark.

On May 8, 1945, the war ended and now Ivar needed to make big decisions about his life. After finishing high school early because he skipped a grade, in 1948 Ivar enrolled in Norwegian Technical University to study mechanical engineering. Ivar soon became frustrated with his studies; he simply was not interested in the subject! Instead, he became an eager guest at several gaming haunts to play billiards, bridge, and chess. Ivar ended up winning several university and city championships, and since he cared more about games than his schoolbooks, his grades were dismal. Ivar took much joy in competitive play throughout his life. He later joined a Thursday night bowling league at GE and even invested in his own bowling ball and shoes. Years later, Ivar became fascinated by an ancient Chinese game called Go, an extremely complex game. He swapped his weekly bowling outing to play Go with fellow enthusiasts. Games were also a big part of family life. Weekends for Ivar’s four children always involved an intense family card or board game--Monopoly would take up a whole Sunday afternoon. The snack of choice was black licorice--still a family favorite.

College wasn’t all games for Ivar. Carefree Ivar also spent time dating girls, going to the movies, and partying. Just as games were an important thread in Ivar’s life, so was “cutting a rug” and having a good time with friends. Blessed with movie-star good looks and a twinkle in both eyes, Ivar had game. As a young man he was often photographed with a cigarette dangling from a roguish yet engaging smile, looking “cool” like he had just told someone a good joke.

Socializing and letting loose always remained important to Ivar. After they were married, Saturday nights for Inger and Ivar typically meant either attending or hosting dinner parties. Their kids would be trotted out to the living room to say a polite “hello” to the guests. The air would be thick with perfume and cigarette smoke (in those days cigarettes couldn’t kill you and no one worried about cancer). There would be yelps of laughter, the crackle of a roaring fire, and the tinkle of a busy martini shaker. On ski vacations in Utah over the years, Inger and Ivar would meet up with Ivar’s equally fun-loving Norwegian college buddies. Friends were forever for Ivar. There would be plenty of good food, strong drink, and a wheezing accordion for exuberant singing and dancing.

Like Tarzan, Ivar was eager for adventures during his university years, which included travel across Europe with his pals, and courting his soulmate, Inger, whom he married in 1952. After graduation, he was required to complete one year of compulsory military service. Army training is rarely a pleasant experience, but it was ironically not the worst time of Ivar’s life. That would instead be when he first set foot on Canadian soil. Faced with a housing crisis in Norway (the waiting list for an apartment was 8 years long) and the unlikely chance of promotion in the patent 2 office where he was employed, Ivar, the adventurous risk-taker, decided to try his luck in Toronto, Canada where Inger’s sister lived. And why not? Ivar had the essential characteristic all immigrants need--grit. It was a hard-knock life in Toronto, pounding the pavement looking for work, speaking poor English. What made it worse was his terrible shoes. He had bought new artificial leather shoes before leaving Norway. Unfortunately, they did not stretch at all and were too small. So, one day he decided to cut slits in the toe of the shoes with a pocketknife so that his feet could have more room. He hoped no one would notice. The young family could only stay with Inger’s sister for so long in Toronto. Apartment hunting there was no picnic, but at least unlike in Norway, they were able to find one, albeit they had to share a bathroom with 8 women. But it was their apartment and had real windows. A basement apartment they almost rented had only a painting of a “window” on the wall. Inger and Ivar often recounted that hilarious experience.

In Canada, Ivar ended up studying at the Canadian General Electric’s Advanced Engineering program. He aced the rigorous course of study and wanted to continue learning about engineering. However, that meant Ivar would have had to move to Schenectady, NY, the corporate research hub of General Electric. Since he had a good job in Canada at the time, looking back it seems almost foolish that he and Inger decided to pull up stakes once again and emigrate to the United States. They left Canada not for a job, but for an educational opportunity. Another risk! More good luck came his way, because after he completed the engineering courses at GE in 1958, he was asked to interview for a position at the GE Research and Development Center. Before being hired, Ivar was, of course, interviewed by people in human resources. They understandably wanted to see his examination papers from Norway. Ivar’s magnificent luck struck yet again! In the USA, a 4.0 is the very best grade given at university. In Norway, a grade of 4.0 is the very worst. When the personnel director saw Ivar’s grades he said, “I see you have 4.0 in both physics and mathematics! You must have been a very good student!” Ivar just smiled and kept quiet. However, he learned later that his recommendations from the GE training program in the US were stellar and likely contributed to his being hired.

Remarkably, Ivar was the only scientific researcher working at the GE Research and Development Laboratory without a Ph.D. Even more astounding was that in 1958 Ivar started conducting his groundbreaking investigations of electron tunneling, the research that became foundational for studies of superconductivity. It was this work that ultimately led him to sharing the Nobel Prize for Physics. Incredibly, that same year he also began pursuing his doctorate in theoretical physics from Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. As a part-time student with a full-time job and three little kids constantly under foot, it took 6 years for Ivar to complete his Ph.D. He took classes at night, and when he would try to study at home at a small wooden desk, he could count on three rowdy kids in pajamas busting in. Ivar completed his degree in 1964.

Ivar’s newfound dedication to academics in his thirties reflects how much he valued the power of education. Perhaps his biggest source of pride in life was being a great teacher. He recognized that some of the world’s greatest scientists did not understand how important it is to clearly explain their work. Early on, Ivar took a class in public speaking, which likely explains in part why he held both scientific and popular audiences and students of all ages spellbound. Telling good jokes and humorous anecdotes did not hurt either. Nobel Laureates get a lot of invitations to travel to scientific conferences and give speeches and commencement addresses, and Ivar was very generous about saying yes and taking the time to teach and talk about science all over the world.

He even visited a fifth-grade science class in rural Georgia and spoke to a lacrosse team in a New York City school about the “physics” involved in using their sticks. Closer to home, one of his daughters is certain that there was no way she would have passed any of her math and science classes without his patient help with homework. For years, Ivar was an engaging panelist for the NPR monthly radio talk show called the “Science Forum.” Never one to intimidate listeners, according to Ivar there were no dumb questions; he had a knack not only for showmanship, but also for putting people at ease answering any questions about science in refreshingly simple language that anyone could understand. Then in 1988, this dynamic teacher and acclaimed scientist left GE to spend more time in the classroom. He became an Institute Professor Emeritus in Physics at RPI. Concurrently, he was a professor at large at the University of Oslo teaching and supervising graduate students in his lab. Wherever he taught, students would flock to Ivar like bears to honey before and after class. Ivar’s “cool factor” always seemed to kick in. There is a priceless photo taken of Ivar, the consummate poker player, shuffling a deck of cards while a group of students in Oslo giddily look on.

Besides sharing the Nobel Prize in Physics in 1973 with Leo Esaki and Brian Josephson, Ivar’s many accolades are too numerous to list. Ivar would be the first to request that his accomplishments not be broadcasted when he was introduced at an event. That said, they include over 30 patents, publications, honorary degrees, memberships to prestigious international committees, and even a key to the city of Schenectady! A few highlights are the Oliver E. Buckley Prize from the American Physical Society in 1965, the Golden Plate Award of the American Academy of Achievement in 1966, a Coolidge Fellow at GE in 1973, and the Zworykin Award from the National Academy of Engineering in 1975. Additionally, he was awarded Honorary Membership in ASME in 1977 and an honorary degree from his alma mater—the Norwegian Institute of Technology in 1985. He was a member of the Institute of Electrical and Electronic Engineers, the Biophysical Society, the National Academy of Science, and a fellow of the American Physical Society.

Like so many immigrants, Inger and Ivar traveled many bumpy roads in pursuit of a joyful, fulfilling life. Once comfortably settled, most immigrants would be content to sit back and enjoy their good fortune. This was not the case with Ivar. After working successfully at the GE Research Lab for about 10 years, Ivar got restless again. Or perhaps he became even more curious. Ivar sought a new challenge and took yet another risk when he applied for a Guggenheim Fellowship to study a subject of his choice at Cambridge University, England for one year. Ivar chose to study biology during his sabbatical year. He wanted to try to apply biological principles to physics. Packing up and moving a family across the ocean in 1968 was trying to say the least. (This was almost as difficult as the moon landing the following year.) For some strange reason, Inger and Ivar decided to take their blue Chevrolet station wagon with them, which stuck out like a sore thumb across Europe. At the time, Ivar was told by many of his peers that there really was no such thing as “biophysics.” Regardless, Ivar blocked out the noise of his critics and turned to biology, focusing on the behavior of organic molecules at solid surfaces. This ultimately led Ivar and biologist Dr. Charles Keese, a colleague from the GE Research Lab, to start their own company in 1991. This business venture marked the beginning of a long and endearing friendship between the two men.

Applied Biophysics, Inc. (https://www.biophysics.com/) was a “start-up” company before the term became fashionable. Today the company continues to manufacture instruments and arrays for monitoring the behavior of cells in tissue culture. Ivar was now essentially a pitchman for a research product called ECIS (Electric Cell-substrate Impedance Sensing). Once again, Ivar was carving a new path for himself. He left the research labs and classrooms behind for trade shows, sales pitches, customer satisfaction, and the stress of personnel and financial management. Drs. Giaever and Keese’s company continues to be a highly successful scientific venture.

Today, people struggle to balance work life with personal time. Not so with Ivar. He was absolutely devoted to his wife and children. It was second nature to him, as he moved seamlessly between the work/life continuum. He came home for dinner on time, spent time with his kids (this included plenty of homework helper time, of course), relaxed in front of sit-coms with an ice cream cone (the household’s favorite show was “The Flintstones” and years later “Seinfeld” a program that Ivar quoted assiduously). Then it would be time for bed-time stories to the kids nestled in their bunk beds. Ivar often said that “The Outstanding Father Award” he received in 1974 from his daughter Anne was the award that meant the most to him.

His memoir published in 2016 by World Scientific Press, entitled very tongue in cheek, I Am the Smartest Man I Know, A Nobel Laureate’s Difficult Journey captures his dedication to work and family, but also to sports. Harking back to his youthful days in rural Norway, Ivar simply loved spending time in nature. Being Norwegian, romance was, of course, best celebrated outdoors if you were Inger or Ivar. The happy couple would hike in the Adirondacks even in the dead of winter and sleep on the snow. Wherever Ivar happened to land in life, he made time for sports. As a child, it was ski-jumping; in California while a Coolidge fellow at the University of San Diego and The Salk Institute, it was surfing and hang-gliding, which he saw happening outside his office window one day. A marathon runner, avid skier and tennis player, Ivar eventually fell hard for windsurfing that he first witnessed while visiting Lindau, Germany. In fact, it became his favorite sport--no crowds, equipment that was easy to transport--just Ivar, the wind, and the water. Always the teacher, Ivar naturally shared his new sports passion with his whole family. He spent countless hours treading in cold water while teaching his children how to climb back onto the board and pull up the heavy sail into the wind. He would turn blue, the family fearing for his safety!

One of Ivar’s uncompromising principles of life was his belief that people who are truthful are “honest.” Yet, he also understood that those same people can be called “big mouths.” Throughout his life, Ivar prided himself on speaking up and saying what he believed to be the truth. Early in the 1960s, he was against American involvement in the Vietnamese War when most people supported it. The very discerning Inger would sometimes try to soften the blunt delivery of his opinions, but it was difficult to change Ivar on this score. He “told it like it is” and stood up for what he believed regardless of the repercussions and fallout. It didn’t matter to Ivar one iota what most people thought, or what they would think of him for sharing a controversial view.

In the last decade of his life, Ivar did hold some controversial opinions, most notably about global warming and climate change. In 2011, Ivar made headlines when he resigned from the American Physical Society over their official statement on climate change. He objected specifically to the assertion that the evidence in favor of man-made climate change is “incontrovertible.” This did not sit well with Ivar since in his and others’ opinion this is a word contrary to the very nature of scientific investigation and exploration. Ivar was not the only dissident. Other scientists at the time dismissed global warming theories as pseudoscience and, like Ivar, criticized it as a political project that wasted money that could be much better spent helping the poor and hungry. It is now over 10 years later, and although the concerns about the dangers of climate change have intensified and the dissenters are in the minority, until the end Ivar remained stalwart about the nature of scientific inquiry and the search for truth.

Father Time caught up with Ivar Giaever as it will with everyone. Sadly, Ivar had to spend the last few years of his life in an assisted living facility owing to failing health and limited mobility. A difficult transition to be sure, given his essentially charmed life and the fact that he was sharp as a proverbial tack -- and then some! He adapted to the indignity of aging with grace and courage. His immigrant experience must have played a part in his declining years.

As the end of his life approached, Ivar faced it calmly with great dignity: He was an inspiration to his children. When Ivar was a child, he was intrigued by his father’s globe. He was especially drawn to the “white” sections that marked unexplored territory. He recalled thinking at the time, “Maybe I can discover wonderful, magical things.” It’s a perfect metaphor for the life of Dr. Ivar Giaever, beloved husband, father, grandfather, and great grandfather. And explorer extraordinaire.

Dr. Ivar Giaever is survived by his sister Mette Giaever; his brother John Giaever†; his children John Giaever, Anne Kari Giaever, Guri Nina Giaever, and Trine Lisa Giaever; his grandchildren Walter Meyer, Allegra Meyer†, Evie Meyer Pennington, Bianca Giaever, Magnus Giaever, Kai Canoll, Mia Giaever, and Hela Giaever; and his great grandson Carmelo Pennington.

Ivar’s and Inger’s ashes will be interred in the Giaever family cemetery plot at the twelfth-century Hoff Church in Østre Toten, their childhood home.

Ivar Giaever’s papers are housed at the Institute Archives and Special Collections at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. The collection, spanning from the 1950s to the 2010s, includes awards, laboratory notebooks, experimental data, research reports, administrative records, drafts and reprints of publications, patent documentation, as well as such personal items as photographs, newspaper clippings, scrapbooks, and detailed correspondence with other leading scientists around the world.

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