Whitman's Learned Astronomer

WHEN I heard the learn’d astronomer;
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me;
When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them;
When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick;
Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.

So wrote Walt Whitman, the self-proclaimed "American bard".  And I can certainly sympathize with him.  Those in scientific professions can all too often get caught up in the technical details of their craft- so full of meaning and portent to a fellow scientist, but so impenetrable to the layperson.  Even I, a student of and passionate advocate for the sciences, often find myself bewildered.

But there is one important detail that Whitman overlooks here, and that anyone who interacts with the sciences would do well to remind themselves of.  The "charts and diagrams" that Whitman finds so stifling may be one of the results of the astronomer's scientific endeavor, but they are not its overall purpose.  The purpose of science is, quite simply, to learn what we humans can about the natural world.  And the motivation that drives one to pursue a career in science is often a far cry from a desire to "lecture with much applause in the lecture-room."  The scientist is motivated by the same force that drove Whitman to write his poetry: a deep-seated awe at the beauty and intricacy of nature.  No doubt the learn'd astronomer himself was inspired to take up his telescope after a night when he "wander'd off by himself in the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time look'd up in perfect silence at the stars."

An Introduction

Publishing a blog in this day and age feels like almost a futile effort.  The internet is already cluttered with so many blogs that this one is just a drop in the ocean.  It's highly unlikely that very many people will actually find it, and even more unlikely that they'll take the time to read it.  The odds of them being affected by it in any significant way are probably even more slim.  But nonetheless, I've decided to do it anyway, so it only seems fair to let you know what I intend for this blog to be.

This is not meant to be a blog about my personal life.  While I'm not a terribly private person, I don't understand the seemingly universal impulse to document and publicize one's every experience.  Blogging about my day-to-day life doesn't seem to me like a good use of my time or yours.  I have a very limited amount of free time, and I would prefer to spend it having experiences than describing them.  This is meant to be primarily a blog about ideas.  While sharing the details of one's personal life seems pointless to me, sharing one's ideas and beliefs- bringing them into the public sphere for others to discuss, debate, and potentially make use of- seems incredibly worthwhile.  Although I may bring up anecdotes from my own life from time to time, I only intend to do so when they are directly relevant to the ideas I am presenting.

I chose to title this blog "Starting From the Soil" for multiple reasons.  For one thing, I wanted a title that would suggest starting from the raw basics and building up.  I believe very strongly in developing one's own beliefs, values, and practices based on one's reason and experience, and wanted to convey that.  Also, the title suggests the interconnectedness of everything on Earth, another concept I find deeply meaningful.  Soil is made up of formerly living matter that has died and decayed, but this decaying matter provides nourishment for new life.  It is both life's source and its ultimate destination.