This week:

Dec. 24, 2001

Cover

The 2001 Honour Roll
Canadians who made a difference

Nelly Furtado
'These creative things come together for me when they are supposed to'

Louis Lortie
'I worry about the future of seriousness. Everything today is fast and gimmicky.'

Carol Shields
'I felt bolder because this is my last novel, probably'

Steve Nash
'I am very skeptical about fame'

Frances Wright
'The power in women is palpable, if only we have the confidence to unleash it'

Robyn Bridgeo
'The destruction was so horrific, I prayed that I would remain focused and not become overcome with sorrow'

Christopher Plummer
'You have to terrify an audience as well as entertain them'

George Bures Miller and Janet Cardiff
'We've always been close artistically. Part of our dating process was collaborating on a film.'

Henry Friesen
'To actually see it happen is hugely gratifying'

Sajeev John
The silicon revolution was in its glory, 'But I wanted to chart my own course'

Carole Whiston
'It takes a lot of courage to throw yourself into another culture'

Lincoln Alexander
His mantra is, 'Life ain't fair. Stay in school. Get an education.'

Business

The big shrug
U.S. giants took over $35-billion worth of Canadian energy firms in 2001. So who cares?

Canada

Uncertain Times
The economy was always Paul Martin's ally. Now it has become the enemy.

World

'All we hoped for'
Washington releases a videotape of Osama bin Laden gloating over Sept. 11

The bin Laden tape

Technology

Let's get digital
A holiday primer for the brave new world

Trends

Toying with tradition
A retro theme runs through many of the season's most popular gifts for kids

Interview

The Canadian chameleon
Christopher Plummer on acting, drinking and that 'boring old Capt. Von Trapp'

Books

Fare for political junkies
Recent titles can fill the holiday-season gap

Best-sellers

Best-sellers

Entertainment Notes

When Ottawa became Experienced

From the Editor

The good, the bad and the news

Letters

The Canadian way

Over to You

A Merry Christmas for all
My Jewish friends and relatives took an interest in my yuletide angst

Overture

Over and Under Achievers
Benched by the budget

Columns

MARY JANIGAN
Bullies in the woods
Even if Canada finally gets a softwood lumber deal, we may never know who's right -- thanks to American tactics

DONALD COXE
Sept. 11's silver lining
Without bin Laden, the global economy would still be weakening. Instead, stocks are on a tear, optimism is strong.

FOTHERINGHAM
The next prime minister?

The silicon revolution was in its glory, 'But I wanted to chart my own course'

BY ROBERT SHEPPARD

Photo: Peter Bregg

A modest man with a great big idea, Sajeev John drives an old Pontiac and seems genuinely surprised that a visitor might find his office at the University of Toronto -- with its industrial-strength carpet and painted concrete walls -- just a little spare. Of course, John, 44, is a theoretical physicist, a numbers guy, someone who lives in a different realm than most. And, if his colleagues are right, he is about to usher in an entirely new world order altogether. Call it the Age of Light, photonics to the scientifically initiated. For John has created both the intellectual framework and a tiny sliver of manufactured silicon so pure, so opalescent, it can actually cage light, that quickest and most elusive of agents, and force it along a manmade path.

The potential is enormous: computers and telecommunications ripping along at the fastest speed science knows. "There is nothing in nature that captures light fully," he says, almost wistfully. The way he has done it -- by improving on the light-absorbing structure of crystals and butterfly wings, and by cajoling a far-flung team of international specialists to join the cause -- is nearly as audacious as the idea itself.

John's creed is that discovery means "exposing your ignorance." And his secret is to be so unassuming that he can broker his ideas among a diverse group of chemists, materials engineers and general disbelievers. The only child of a physics professor and a biochemist, John himself is a pretty smart cookie. As an undergrad, he topped his class at the prestigious Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The silicon revolution was in its glory. "But I wanted to chart my own course," he says, to make light do what electrons do naturally, follow a manmade path.

His eureka came early. In a paper he wrote in 1984, when he was just 27, John set out his theory for containing light. More important, how to do it. All of a sudden, scientific doors cranked open. Within a few years, the University of Toronto called him home, dangled research money and allowed him the freedom to travel the world explaining his theories. In early 1999, he met a group of Spanish scientists who were making tiny little balls of glass, a fraction the width of a human hair. That offered him the mould -- imagine a miniature crate of oranges barely touching each other.

And back home, at the U of T, John stumbled upon chemist Geoffrey Ozin who was willing to try, literally, to fill in the gaps. Ozin, at first, thought it couldn't be done. But John is persistent, a cajoler. In just over a year, his informal 14-member international team had their triumph. Big corporations came calling; this summer John won the $325,000 King Faisal International Prize for science, an auspicious award from a desert kingdom that should know something about light and revolutions.

John is proud but nonplussed by the attention -- photonic chips are still some years away from mainstream production. He is already turning his mind to light-reading medical tools -- "kind of like Star Trek" -- and he is almost as proud that young researchers from all over are flocking to his side: "I've probably made about a dozen new Canadian citizens," he chuckles.

Meanwhile, he has a toddler at home and now an intellectual one making its way in the scientific world. The thought makes him nostalgic. When he was 4, his family emigrated from a small village in southern India. He still remembers the canopy of coconut trees that shaded the sky and the almost magical light that filtered through, bouncing and shimmering as light will do. "Light like that remains with you forever," says John. Of course, if you squint your eyes and think real hard, you just might make it dance through hoops.