Opinion
Tyson makes push for science literacy
By Maddy Maher ’18
April 14, 2016
Tags opinion
“You have to be young to think like no one has before.”
After hearing Neil Degrasse Tyson speak those words, I was sold. As an Environmental Studies major, I feigned interest in attending Tuesday’s Great Names lecture. I know that listening to these talks is a Hamilton rite of passage, and I did not want my lack of enthusiasm to curb that of my Hamilton peers, so I did my best to keep my disinterest to myself. In reality, however, I had no desire to attend whatsoever—I was tired, had a cold and, frankly, felt intimidated by discussions of the enormity of outer space. After the first few minutes of his presentation, I was still not convinced. He prefaced his slideshow with a suggestion—get comfortable, you are going to be here for a while—to which I responded with an eye roll and a heavy sigh.
What I expected was a two-hour discussion of the mysteries of the cosmos, one that I could have easily experienced by watching Tyson’s television series from my bed, but I was pleasantly surprised once he starting flipping through his first few slides. He began his presentation with pictures of global currency, each depicting a famous scientist. With great wit, humor and undeniable intelligence, Tyson wove his seemingly disjointed musings on the various bills into a discussion of the ways in which different cultures either promote scientific discovery or crush the intellectual curiosity of their people. From there, his message only became clearer and more compelling.
As his discussion on various cultures and their approach to science progressed, he took no prisoners. Avoiding adherence to “politically correct” standards, he openly discussed the ways in which religious cultures—Islam, Judaism, Christianity—and other national cultures, including our own American social climate, approach scientific discourse. At first, I felt as though he was “calling out” these cultures and I was nearly ready to leave due to discomfort, but I came to realize that he was merely criticizing the equal opportunity of knowledge and exploration for all races, genders and ethnicities. That is when I jumped on board. He was not calling out specific cultures and nations to single out their individual shortcomings, but rather to unite them by calling attention to the global need for scientific literacy. By the time he declared that “if 50 percent of the population [women] doesn’t have access to the frontier of discovery, we cannot expect to live in a civilized world,” I was enthusiastically applauding along with the thousands of other audience members.
A cause of great discomfort for me, and for others, was when Tyson called out specific religions. Though clearly once again challenging the “politically correct,” Tyson brought up sensitive points. Religion, for hundreds of years, has been the mortal enemy of science. It is almost impossible for the two fields to work together simultaneously without conflict. The idea of God creating earth in seven days works directly against the Big Bang Theory, something that is just that, a verifiable theory. Tyson reminded us, however, that religion and science do not always have to be at odds with each other. I believe that the two can coexist if and when humankind undergoes a much needed cultural shift in ideals.
In the end, Tyson’s call for scientific literacy proved thought provoking and strangely empowering. As Hamilton students, we are incredibly lucky to live in an environment that fosters intellectual curiosity and interdisciplinary exploration. But what about the rest of the U.S.? Or the rest of the world? The majority of our nation, and billions of people around the world today, lack the basic cultural support that is necessary to carry out intelligent scientific discourse. Furthermore, this cultural—and specifically religious—shortcoming has dulled the national support necessary for the technological revolution our country desperately needs if we hope to reduce our dependency on fossil fuels. Frankly, our scientific illiteracy is unfair to ourselves and to the rest of the world.
As I reflected on my undeniable privilege as a liberal arts student, I decided that this shift in cultural ideals starts with us. We are in a unique position from which we can passionately discuss the science that matters. We can take that passion into the world beyond Hamilton and help galvanize the movement for scientific literacy. We have the tools to be the future communicators of and ambassadors to the “frontier of discovery,” as Tyson was for us. Why shouldn’t we strive to bring religious people, women, children, impoverished nations, etc. the tools that they deserve to be succesfully innovative. If we cannot help others, they cannot help themselves.
Tyson’s talk also reminded me that oftentimes it what you are communicating is oftentimes less important than the educational environment that you create. Tyson’s humor, personal anecdotes and casual style illustrated that you can educate and inform without preaching, and that you can communicate intelligently without boasting. Effective communicators such as Tyson, and soon, college students like us, will lead the ever so necessary charge towards global scientific literacy.