Humans are selfish as to their place in the universe, but it may not be their fault. The life cycle of a star similar to our sun is over 10 billion years, while the time it takes a single neuron, a type of cell in the brain that sends electrical signals, to fire is far less than a second. Given that our lives deal on such a middle ground time-wise, it is no wonder we have no perspective until we allow science to shape our conception of reality.
Perhaps the most important result of scientific literacy is an understanding of the scope of time; a broad range of knowledge of the scientific disciplines that demonstrates the arbitrary nature of our own lives. For example, comprehension of basic biological evolutionary theory depends on grasping the gradualism that millions of years of mutation and natural selection afford. This is something that many people struggle with simply because our brains are wired to comprehend time spans of a far shorter range.
On the other side of our conception of time, significant scientific events happen on scales far smaller than we can imagine. For example, an enormous amount of essential, complex biochemical activities occur in our bodies in times on the order of millionths of a second. Even more fundamentally mind-blowing is the new understanding of time formed in the wake of Einstein's theories of relativity. These theories basically show that the way we perceive time is merely a convention that does not represent "absolute" time.
So what perspective does an understanding of time and its abstractness give someone outside of pure scientific pursuits? First, it allows us to recognize our insignificance when placed on the grand scales in which the universe deals. The PBS series "Cosmos" features a scene with a large calendar encapsulating the history of the Earth into just one year. Life, in the form of bacteria and other micro-organisms, is shown relatively early on the calendar. More powerfully, however, humanity is but a flicker of light at the end of Dec. 31.
This explanation of life should not promote feelings of irrelevance and nihilism. In fact, there is beauty in this view, not to mention an ennobling sense of responsibility. We are a coincidental result of the probabilistic nature of the universe, not the reason the universe exists. As such, we must re-evaluate our view of the Earth and our obligation to causes greater than ourselves. This includes committing to contributing to society, human knowledge and the preservation of the planet for the sake of the planet itself.
More specifically, there cannot be a more compelling case for taking care of our environment. We ignorantly act as if the earth began when humans arrived on the scene. We have become addicted to fossil fuels and other "natural" products that are obliterating our little corner of the galaxy. If man is going to overcome this period of great environmental indifference, not to mention its other huge problems, science is the best and only tool.
When used properly, science adds to knowledge and serves to inform our decisions. For example, attempts to explain behavior in terms of evolution may have great consequences for our future. Understanding evolution does not make us slaves to the evolutionary forces that shaped us, but rather it informs our behavior and allows us to develop into a harmonious, compassionate, intelligent species. Evolutionary science has shown the value of altruism and social communities, something fairly unique to human beings. We can embrace this part of our evolutionary history while growing beyond less desirable behaviors such as infanticide and hunger for power.
Scientific progress is a result of extremely hard work, selfless collaboration, and intellectual effort. Scientific literacy, on the other hand, can have direct positive influence on our world as it spreads through society on all levels. Carl Sagan said, "If we long for our planet to be important, there is something we can do about it. We make our world significant by the courage of our questions and the depth of our answers."
Josh Levitz is a junior in the College of Arts and Sciences and a science
columnist for The Eagle.
