It is truly difficult to envision a coincidence more astounding than the beginning of Life. The number of sporadic and unrelated events that needed to have occurred sequentially in order for the primordial soup to have been concocted defies belief. Yet somehow, incredibly, amino acids have joined to form proteins, the fundamental building blocks of Life. Statistically impossible, but hey, here we are.
Some scientists have taken the question of Life’s origins out of the realm of our perception and argue that it must have begun elsewhere before hitching a ride to Earth. This only adds spice to the question because it presupposes the existence of Life in other places. Taking into account the sheer number of stars it would be improbable to assume that our planet is the only one on which Life had evolved. In fact, the Drake Equation – an educated guess that is based partly on observations and partly on estimates – tells us that there should be billions of life-supporting planetary systems in the Universe. Creationists cringed when they heard that.
Some of today’s scientists – astrophysicists, bioengineers, and evolutionary biologists – represent a school of thought that perceives faith and science to have a natural kinship with each other, and they tread this middle ground in their life and their work. Some say that it is impossible not to think of God when looking through the microscope at a minuscule living organism; when glancing at the computer screen displaying the geometrically perfect shape of the DNA string; or when studying the far-reaching corners of the universe through a telescope.
Our planet is extraordinary regardless of whether studying it on a macro or a micro level. The same sense of wonder and awe befalls the anthropologist who witnesses a ritual no outsider was ever allowed to see; the marine biologist who glances for the first time at the images of a unique ecosystem thriving miles beneath the surface of the ocean; and the astrophysicist who calculates the trajectory of a distant planet and discovers that the path it takes around its star is nearly identical to that of Earth.
And then, there are the simple things: the smell of freshly cut grass and the joy of having accomplished a task; the joy and the freedom embodied in dance; the laughter of a child unburdened by the problems that lay ahead; the long shades in the afternoon sun as it casts its last rays over a vineyard; the glass of wine shared by a fire. Such moments are countless and rare, we each cherish them and our lives are the sum of them all.
Our planet is extraordinary and we are her stewards. Our job is a difficult one, but the question is simple: will future generations of scientists experience the awe and the wonder that comes with discovery? Or will they be doomed to think of ways to reverse the damage done to our planet? Will our sons and daughters enjoy the same moments that we do today? Or will they look at the bleak stormy sky and the desert landscapes, and wonder where we had gone wrong?
Their future is being shaped today by us and the heavy footprint that we leave on our planet may be too difficult to overcome for our children. This is our life, our planet, and our future.
Our responsibility.
