Received: by alpheratz.cpm.aca.mmu.ac.uk id PAA07813 (8.6.9/5.3[ref pg@gmsl.co.uk] for cpm.aca.mmu.ac.uk from fmb-majordomo@mmu.ac.uk); Tue, 17 Apr 2001 15:00:30 +0100 Subject: Fwd: The word 'yet' hinges existential debate Date: Tue, 17 Apr 2001 09:56:17 -0400 x-sender: wsmith1@camail2.harvard.edu x-mailer: Claris Emailer 2.0v3, Claritas Est Veritas From: "Wade T.Smith" <wade_smith@harvard.edu> To: "memetics list" <memetics@mmu.ac.uk> Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-transfer-encoding: quoted-printable Message-ID: <20010417135634.AAA582@camailp.harvard.edu@[128.103.125.215]> Sender: fmb-majordomo@mmu.ac.uk Precedence: bulk Reply-To: memetics@mmu.ac.uk
And then I find this....
- Wade
**********
The word 'yet' hinges existential debate
By Chet Raymo, 4/17/2001
http://www.boston.com/dailyglobe2/107/science/The_word_yet_hinges_existenti
al_debateP.shtml
Yet.
Such a little word. Such a feisty little word.
I've been reading again those two fine books of recent times, Edward O. 
Wilson's ''Consilience,'' and Wendell Berry's ''Life Is a Miracle.'' When 
Wilson wrote ''Consilience,'' he surely knew that his call for the 
unification of all branches of knowledge (including art, morality and 
religion) under the flag of science would raise a few hackles. He 
couldn't have asked for a more exhilarating rejoinder than Berry's 
scrappy ''Life is a Miracle.''
Two brilliant men - one a Harvard biologist and world-famed founder of 
sociobiology, the other a Kentucky farmer and author of dozens of books 
of poetry, fiction and nonfiction - jabbing at each other with that 
little stiletto word, yet.
Two men who care passionately about the environment. Two champions of 
conservation with diametrically opposed views of what it is we mean to 
conserve and how we might conserve it, marching to the fray armed with 
the same little weapon, yet.
For Wilson, yet is humility. For Berry, yet is arrogance.
How can such a little word bear such a burden of meaning?
Wilson is profoundly impressed by the power of the scientific method to 
unravel the secrets of the world. Just look at what we have learned so 
far - the whirling maelstroms of the distant galaxies, the dervish dance 
of the DNA. Who can say of the reach of science, this far and no farther? 
We are products of our evolutionary history, biological and cultural. 
There are no gods, no spirits, no ghosts in the machine. The world is 
based on discoverable laws, and we are part of the world. Our lives and 
loves and hopes and dreams are part of this world, and, therefore, 
potentially knowable.
We just don't know them yet.
The word yet, for Wilson, is a hedge on overreaching, a confession of 
present ignorance, an expression of confidence in future understanding.
And, for Berry, the opposite.
Wilson's yet is a taunt, Berry states: ''He cannot bring himself to say 
that scientists do not know something; he must say that they do not know 
it yet.'' Yet is Wilson staking a claim on things he cannot know and will 
never know. Yet is a denial of limits, the squeak of hubris, the 
antithesis of humility.
The things that make us human - locality, particularity, our uniqueness - 
are beyond the reach of empirical science, Berry asserts. Life is a 
miracle, never, ever to be reduced to chemistry and physics. To 
experience life is not to ''figure it out'' but ''to suffer and rejoice 
in it as it is.'' There is simply no ''not yet'' about it.
Yet has consequences, Berry states.
A mystery scheduled for solution is no longer a mystery; it is a problem. 
And who can love a problem? Who can cherish an agenda? If life is just a 
biochemical machine, a conflation of nature's unalterable laws, then why 
bother saving it? People exploit machines. They defend what they love. 
And no one loves a machine.
Yes, indeed, yet has consequences, Wilson states.
Yet is the Enlightenment belief ''that entirely on our own we can know, 
and in knowing, understand, and in understanding, choose wisely,'' he 
insists. To say that history unfolds by processes too complex for 
rational analysis is a cop-out, a surrender of our human rationality, the 
lazy modern equivalent of ''it's the will of God.'' If we are going to 
save the environment, we better know everything we can about what it is 
we mean to save. If life is truly ''a miracle,'' then our best efforts 
will come to naught. Rationality and will are powerless in the face of 
miracles.
This much is certain. Without yet, science is impossible. Science works 
on the border between the known and the unknown, pushing back the tide of 
mystery. For the scientist, yet is a statement of faith that the game is 
not over yet, that more knowledge is yet to be gained, that the human 
rational enterprise has years - centuries, millennia, maybe forever - yet 
to run. In all of this, Wilson is on indisputable ground.
And yet, Berry is right, too. The greatest questions of art, literature 
and religion so far stand undiminished by the astonishing progress of 
science, and it's hard to imagine how and when it might be otherwise. Why 
is there something rather than nothing? Why do the innocent suffer and 
the wicked prosper? Why, when we look into the starry sky or the face of 
a beloved, are we struck dumb with wonder?
Why does one man die strong, hale and happy, while another dies in 
bitterness of soul and without riches? And yet - and yet - and yet they 
shall sleep together in the dust and worms shall cover them.
Even the most skeptical and secular Wilsonian might accede to Eliu's 
request in the Book of Job: ''Suffer me a little ... for I have somewhat 
yet to speak in God's behalf.''
Chet Raymo is a professor of physics at Stonehill College and the author 
of several books on science.
This story ran on page E04 of the Boston Globe on 4/17/2001. © Copyright 
2001 Globe Newspaper Company.
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