Max Han smiling with arms crossed, standing beside an enlarged replica of the Nobel Prize medal
I still remember my first sights, or rather feelings, of Stockholm coming alive with the buzz of Nobel Week: sharing a plane ride with the world’s most influential changemakers, watching colorful lights adorn the city, and spotting Einstein’s cheeky smile projected onto buildings.
Bright lights and grandeur aside, I could feel this collective celebration of intellect and change in the atmosphere as I traced the rubber seal beneath the window of my taxi, quietly anticipating my unforgettable week ahead.
A few months before arriving at Oxford, I had received an email congratulating me on becoming a Future Nobel Laureate Scholar – the first ever from Southeast Asia. Fast forward to December 2024, and I found myself ending the year with Nobel Week, one of the most surreal experiences of my life.
Looking back with the gift of retrospect, I've allowed the countless conversations and memorable moments from Nobel Week to crystallize into three key lessons that shape how I now see my path forward. Perhaps you might find some grain of truth in them too.
Lesson 1: Love in the dichotomy between means and ends
Every year, the Nobel Prize Foundation gathers Nobel Laureates and experts from diverse fields to discuss global issues at the Nobel Week Dialogue. One of my favourite panels featured Paralympian Anna Begg, Olympian Anna Haag, and Michael Rosbash, 2017 Nobel Laureate in Physiology or Medicine discussing how to prepare for success.
Listening to these elite athletes describe their intense regimens, I realized what distinguishes the Nobel Prize from an Olympic medal, is that it cannot be pursued through linear, structured preparation alone.
As Michael Rosbash pinpointed, it wasn’t about setting an explicit goal in mind but the shared “love of craft” that connected him and the athletes. That’s where everything truly begins. Focusing too narrowly on outcomes can lead to disappointment, as only a select few will ever achieve these lofty goals.
Nobel Laureate in Physiology or Medicine (2017), Michael Rosbash, speaking expressively with both hands raised during a panel discussion
He mused, “We love the laboratory; we love the fellowship of our people and students…I think it's a mistake to choose a profession with the goal in mind. You really have to love what you do and to a large extent, let the ends just determine that it's not in your control to where the journey is going to end, but you can really find something that you love and make the journey a pleasure…that this is a terrific way to spend your time, and if you don’t share that, you’re in the wrong business.”
It came as no surprise when the Nobel Foundation staff I informally chatted with later shared that most Laureates they meet never expected to win a Nobel Prize. Behind the prestige lie decades of grueling rejection, persistent skepticism, and for some, even imprisonment. Despite being accustomed to the vague advice of “follow your passion,” I felt moved by Michael’s intention to pass this ‘love of craft’ to the next generation of scientists. What a gift to witness these Laureates receive their long-deserve recognition.
I walked away that day re-asking myself: what do I really love?
Love, as in an idea I can’t stop talking about in spite of my introversion, or rather a spark that makes my eyes twinkle; love, as in a craft that is not merely definitional, but what I feel deeply in the fibre of my being.
Lesson 2: Sharpen your axe
Two people were each trying to split a large piece of wood with an axe. The first worked tirelessly without stopping, while the second paused periodically to rest. Surprisingly, the second person finished first. Confused, the first asked, "How did you finish before me with all those breaks you took?”
The second person replied, "Each time I paused, I was sharpening my axe."
Sharpening one’s axe appears to be a common trait among Nobel Laureates. When Laureates win their prize, they each donate a personal item to the Nobel Prize Museum. Interestingly, certain themes emerge among these items relating to sports, music, writing, or simply the beauty of mundane routines. Nobel-winning economists Guido Imbens and Joshua Angrist donated a bottle of laundry detergent as an ode to their inspiring conversations on labor markets while doing laundry together at a laundromat.
I particularly loved the handwritten note in Korean alongside a personal cup from Han Kang, the 2024 Nobel Prize Winner for Literature. In her note, she describes her ritual of rising as early as 5 am, going on long walks, and brewing tea with a poetic reflection on how her life quietly resides within the greenish blue circles of this cup.
A handwritten note in Korean by Han Kang, 2024 Nobel Laureate in Literature, displayed alongside her personal cup with greenish blue circles
I relish this idea of sharpening my axe, and research on polymathy amongst Nobel Laureates suggests I’m not alone. In a world that constantly demands we hustle endlessly, we can easily lose sight of the pursuits that truly make us feel alive – nurturing relationships and hobbies without the pressure nor pursuit of productivity.
There is meaning in rest and boredom. And here rests my case for it.
Recently, I've been taking long walks through University Parks, pausing to spot and smell the first signs of spring in Oxford. I may not stumble upon a Nobel Prize-winning idea, but I certainly cherish the simple joy of just being human.
I now understand Abraham Lincoln better when he said, “Give me six hours to chop down a tree, and I will spend the first four sharpening the axe.”
Lesson 3: Remember the story of ‘us’
One of my key highlights was presenting our work on environmental democracy and rights with my fellow Future Nobel Laureate Scholars, Melissa Okeke from Ecuador and Stefanie Karayoff from the USA, to the international community in Stockholm – an output that will be displayed at the Nobel Prize Museum in 2025! Check it out when you’re there.
Max Han holding a microphone while speaking, alongside Melissa Okeke and Stefanie Karayoff presenting on environmental rights during Nobel Week
I spoke about my experience drafting the ASEAN Environmental Rights Declaration in my home context of Southeast Asia and the urgent need to protect human rights defenders globally. Despite coming from different backgrounds, we all share this passion towards environmental democracy, shaped by our lived experiences with advocacy in our countries.
Among those in attendance was the ambassador of El Salvador to Sweden, whom we later spoke with. She shared how our communities live on through the work and values we uphold and champion, reminding us to stay rooted in them. When my fellow Malaysians welcomed me warmly at the Malaysian embassy later on, I remembered her words, “When you are living abroad, you are a bridge to your country, and there are so many ways for you to contribute.”
Max Han standing beside the First Secretary at the Malaysian embassy in front of the Swedish and Malaysian flag
Reiterating Lesson One’s theme of love for craft, the craft I feel most deeply within me is environmental justice and how we can operationalize it. But my craft is not solitary — it is intertwined with the story of myself, my ancestral roots and elders, my communities back in Malaysia, and the solidarity I share with others across the world.
To remember the story of ‘us’ is to understand that our struggles, our victories, and our dreams are part of something much larger than ourselves.
I felt this in a sense of representation as an Asian, sharing in the Koreans' immense pride over Han Kang’s victory. I saw it in the Korean scientist I met telling me about her traditional Hanbok she’ll wear to the ceremony so Han Kang would see her, and in the Polish volunteer who beamed with pride at Polish author Olga Tokarczuk, the 2018 Nobel Laureate in Literature.
Max Han standing in front of a sign displaying the words "The Nobel Prize"
Today, I sit with the gratitude and responsibility of being the first Southeast Asian Future Nobel Laureate Scholar, while knowing I stand on the shoulders of countless activists before me.
Nobel Week reminded me that the pursuit of knowledge and justice is never a solitary endeavor. It is carried forward by those who dare to love their craft deeply, who sharpen their axes even when no one is watching, and who understand that their work is never just their own. It is rooted in the stories of our ancestors, the struggles of our communities, and the quiet, persistent hope that the world can be better. .
I left Stockholm with a rekindled sense of childlike intellectual curiosity, my heart full of these lessons as guideposts for my journey. The road ahead is uncertain, but I walk it with purpose knowing that the work we do, the causes we fight for, and the truths we seek are part of something far greater than ourselves.
And perhaps, that is the most humbling and powerful lesson beyond any prize.
