One of the more common greetings we hear in college is “what’s your major?” This question, asked as an icebreaker, is used to find common interests or classes. I answer that I’m a chemistry major, and nine times out of 10 I am met with a blank look, a question of my sanity, or the expression of disgust, as though I have just said something personally offensive.
I’ll concede that chemistry may not be the course of study for everyone (although every adult should have a basic understanding of this and other sciences) and that the math and concepts in chemistry can be difficult at times, even for a graduating senior. However, it is not the molecular structures, reactions or stoichiometry that is most enlightening about chemistry. Instead, it has subtly led me on a path to spirituality.
Chemistry identifies and studies matter through its interactions, compositions, and changes. I won’t get into the nitty-gritty of this, but for our purposes remember a few things: all matter is made of the same fundamental particles — neutrons, protons, and electrons; matter interacts and changes using or evolving energy in the process; and matter and its interaction make up everything, living and non-living.
What does all of this mean to the average person? Well, as special as one might think s/he is, this individual is fundamentally composed of the same stuff as a lamp or the sand on a beach. This connection is not, however, a negative — that is to say that life is meaningless because it is composed of the same stuff as the non-living is. Instead, a miraculous and highly improbable function of chemistry and physics yielded life, its massive diversity and the human consciousness.
While developing my knowledge of chemistry here at Binghamton, I made new friends with differing perspectives, found my passion for environmentalism, and looked for a way to live through my values. I struggled at first with the notion that all we as humans do is damaging to our home, the earth, but eventually realized that we must strive to do our best for the world and all of its inhabitants, even if the outcome may be ultimately hopeless.
With this realization, I began a path to self-actualization — I didn’t want to live contrary to my beliefs and values, as this would tear me apart. I began to educate myself on the facts of climate change and, with encouragement, was lead logically to boycotting the most environmentally destructive aspect of human activity: animal agriculture. In doing so, I became a vegan, and began to reach a higher sense of connectedness to the earth. Instead of being an exploitive human, I feel myself giving back, fighting for the rights of marginalized beings and growing more and more in line with my values.
People find themselves in college — their values, goals, and aspirations. My logical, curious mind led me on a tangential path to discover an aspect of myself, as an atheist, that I wouldn’t have considered just a few years ago: my spirituality. Through the lens of chemistry and environmentalism, I’ve come to see more clearly interconnectedness of everything on Earth. You and I, the deer in the Nature Preserve, the trees and grasses, the oceans and lakes and the soil and rocks are all interchanging matter and energy constantly. Taking a moment to consider this brings the dynamism of the natural world into focus and gives my actions purpose.
It can be difficult finding a reason for doing good as ultimately nothing matters. During sophomore and junior years, this idea seemed to underlie my outlook of the state of earth and the decline we are facing. I realize now, though, that this nihilistic perspective will not allow me to make the most of my life and to improve the lives of other people, animals, and the state of our planet. Instead, I realize, we must live through our values with a sense that each one of our individual actions has an outcome to some other being, human or otherwise.
John Babich is a senior majoring in chemistry.