I love that science can help us understand our world and universe, and I appreciate that scientists endeavor to discover how things work. Their discoveries have obviously helped humanity a great deal, and I applaud them for continuing to dispel the myths that have kept so many people living fearfully rather than freely. Hooray for science (or SCIENCE! to all my trivia friends out there).
Yet the goals of scientists can make me a little sad at times, too. Do I really want to know the formula for everything? Do I want love and beauty to be reduced to equations? Do they become less transcendent that way?
Perhaps if I had the mind of a mathematician rather than a poet, the answers would be yes, yes and no.
And I wonder if science will one day find a way to externally switch my brain from one thinking preference to another.
But should it?
Is that how the dystopia so many authors have warned us of begins—by making everything controllable and orderly?
There's no way I want to return to the days when everything was clouded by dark superstitions. I just want at least a little bit of mystery to always be in the world, filling our hearts with curiosity and wonder. My one hope is that even if scientists one day, thousands of years from now, figure out how everything works, the reason why will always remain out of reach.
Opinions shared here are my own. They should not be seen as a representation of my employer's views.