Science has been pretty good to us, don't you think? Granted, there have been some abominable developments thrust upon us, like nuclear weapons and Windows Vista, but let's face it: we like our iPods and televisions far too much to give them all up and start churning butter. This is why I'm shocked that our society has an existential crisis every single time a scientific discovery is made -- it's an odd reaction for one of the most technologically developed countries in the world.
I'm talking about comments like those made by Emily Johnson '12, in her recent column, ("The Love Doctor," Jan. 27). In the column, Johnson laments, and even goes so far as to scold, scientific progress. Researchers are discovering the workings of the chemicals that govern love, and Johnson's response is, "I believe that we will continue to rise to the challenge, defining our lives for ourselves as science strips away external sources of meaning."
Sure, it's disappointing to hear that your "chemistry" with Sam or Suzie was nothing more than, well, actual chemistry -- but is this really a reason to reevaluate our lives over? The feeling of attraction is still there, unaltered by the fact that we have names for a couple of newly discovered chemicals in our heads. So why pretend like that attraction doesn't exist when we discover why we feel it? The love we feel is not any less love-y; the only thing that's changed is that we've become more aware of how the world works, which is the entire purpose of science.
Allow me to provide you with another example of science's apparent imposition upon our minds. Science tells us that everything that happens results from prior events, which in turn result from events still prior, establishing a causal chain dating all the way back to the beginning of the universe. If this chain includes everything, then it certainly includes the chemical events that occur in our brains. If our brains aren't supplemented by some foreign, animating force like a spirit or soul, then it seems that everything we do, and all that we are, is caused not by ourselves, but by the state of the universe right at the Big Bang.
But you know what? If it's true that we're not ultimately responsible for our everyday actions, then we've never been responsible for any of our actions, despite the fact that I can remember making difficult "choices" in my life. The illusion of choice can still be real and valued by society, even if we know that the universe decides things for us. Again, save our awareness of the illusion, nothing has changed. Life does not have to make any accommodative adjustments.
Brain chemistry isn't the only example. Movie graphics, when done well, aren't any less spectacular once we find out that they've all been created on a computer. A geek's cherished $600 replica of the lightsaber Luke Skywalker originally received from Obi-Wan Kenobi on Tatooine isn't any less adored because it can't even cut through drywall (much less a two-foot steel bulkhead). Science, despite having explained away the magic, doesn't seem to have stripped meaning from any of these things.
We can't start treating science as something we have to cope with, because that's the first step to rejecting science outright. Science does not naggingly force us to readjust our very way of being every couple of years; it merely tries to explain the world around us. Besides, science has limits. It will never guide us morally as religion can, or tell us how to govern a nation properly. Sure, sometimes science does allow for technology that shouldn't be trusted -- particularly in the weaponry department -- but every human action goes awry sometimes: I don't think the Church is particularly proud of the violent, forced baptisms of Jews that occurred upon the coronation of Richard the Lionhearted, and anyone who thinks that all governments are good should spend a week in Zimbabwe.
Instead of preaching omens of doomsday and instigating social upheaval every time science rationalizes another emotion of ours, can't we simply embrace knowledge? Life isn't some chintzy parlor trick that becomes groaningly terrible when we know the secret behind it. We ought not be afraid of the unknown, even if it lies within.
