Song of science

If I could identify a theme to my life and my story, it is a search for truth. Perhaps the most obvious is the fact that I chose to become an engineer. Science is the search for a particular kind of truth, that which we can feel and touch and manipulate. I probably would have become a scientist if there was more money in it. As an engineer, I get to both satiate my desire to understand the world and be financially comfortable. Both professionally and practically, one could easily describe engineering as the combination of science and money. I came to graduate school because I wanted to be a part of discovering real knowledge.

I came to graduate school on an ideology high. All I understood of the world was through science, and I wanted to weave myself into the fabric of this knowledge. The beauty of the university is that you get to learn from incredibly knowledgeable people, the best of which make you feel like you are just as smart as they are. And if you aren't careful, you might even think you're as smart. In this environment, it is easy to be enchanted with the surety of the basics. Newton's laws are so plainly obvious and simple that, given enough time, the rest of science must undoubtedly be within grasp. The siren's song of science.

But as you do science, you realize that it is dirty. Things are never so obvious. The piece of knowledge you carve out for yourself verges of meaninglessness, and, if you are lucky, one other person might be able to understand your ideas. That is, if you are lucky enough to actually have an idea. This is the work of science. Although I was disillusioned, I have never lost my faith that science accomplishes something. Knowledge progresses on, but I must be satisfied with my infinitesimal contribution.

However, as an undergraduate, I was enamored by the human spirit and its search for knowledge. I read the pop literature: Hawkings, Green, and Kaku. A particularly transformative book was Complexity, recommended by a friend who unwittingly changed my life. These books presented a beautiful world. The universe is simple enough to understand, yet complex enough to instill wonder. The laws of nature were obscure to the untrained eye, but could be made obvious if you read the right books. This is the world we lived in, and I knew the secret handshake: science.

It is within this world that I became an atheist. In such a world, what room is there for God?