Why Should I Care?


Dear Eugene,

Last night I was reading science.  I've been doing quite a bit of that lately.

My son asked me, "Dad, is that, like, science science that you are reading?"

I knew what he meant.  As compared to "Christian" science.  Sunday-School science.  Young-Earth science.  Noah's-Ark science.  Jonah-in-a-whale science.

"Oh, no worries, this is real science," I told him.  "I've already worked through that whale thing you are talking about before you were a sperm."

Much of "Christian" science gives Jesus a very fishy name.  And whales are not fish, even a kindergartener knows.

Anyway, this is not the can of sardines I am opening today.

Science is fascinating, isn't it?

But do you know what is just as fascinating?  That I would call science fascinating, as if it is a person, a beautiful, intelligent woman, a visionary man.  Who am I to put such value on...her?

When I was reading science, a question kept rising to the forefront, a question not mine but one that I imagine, say, my son, would ask:  Why should I care?  (And it was, of course, Diana Krall's sultry voice asking.)

True enough.  Science is complicated stuff.  With lots of math.  And it feels like we are always moving towards the apex of a cylindrical cone, knowledge and concern ever more specialized, and with that, the marginal utility of ecstasy I could derive out of the pursuit rapidly declines.  (Of course, this is just me.  Many others feel the exact opposite.)

But still: Why should one care? 

Life is stressful, messy, often devoid of apparent meaning.  Why should I mess it up further?  It is good to pursue science if my profession demands it, and with that aspiration my pursuit should probably stop at the demand's reach.

Think of it this way: If I am a caveman, that there is only me and me alone as far as Homo sapiens goes, would I still find science just as fascinating?

Of course, one would say there are so many sensible answers to this question.  To begin with, the question is not fair, as Alex is not the only Homo sapiens.  He is just making up a self-serving scenario to say what he wants to say next.  Valid.

Second, survival of course.  Learn about science, increase your chance to survive.  Don't get burned.  Don't get Flintstoned.  Enough said.

Third, making sense of the world.  Yes, if a T-Rex is chasing you, try not to think too much and just run.  But eventually you will start to want to make sense of your past experience, gain knowledge to face the future, and build community as you build a more sober and reasonable worldview.  True too.

But that's not what my "made-up" scenario is getting at.  And I did not make it up either.

The cavemen is...say, a teenager.

Anyone who has ever parented a teenager would know what I mean.  Not all teenagers are like that, but I do know some.  One.  His bedroom close enough to mine.

Yes, to this particular teenager, he is the only Home sapiens in this world.  He does not need to care about survival as he is surviving just fine.  And, no, it is the other way around, that the world needs to make sense of him, not him making sense of the world.

So, Why should he care? 

This is not a scientific question, but it seems like the future of science does depend on human's answering to it.

If my answer is, Cos my parents told me to, so that I can get a good job and live a comfortable life, then I can imaging myself one day doing self-serving science, short-sighted science, profit-driven science, exploitative science, gas-and-dash science, cut-things-open-for-my-good-and-let-others-worry-about-putting-things-back-together-if-they-can science.

In my book (I mean the Bible), this is way worse than Sunday-School science.

Scientifically Jesus', Alex

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