The Art of Nature and the Art of Man

Mathematics and science are the art of nature, the governor of the universe — with merely a formula of several letters written with a chalk, a scientist can demonstrate everything from the law of orbit of heavenly bodies to the rate at which microorganisms grow; every phenomena in reality — the blossoming of a flower, the scattering of the sunlight during sunset, the changing phases of the moon — all fall into the vast domain of science and mathematics, two faithful allies. So wondrous is the power of science that ever since the advent of human civilization, mankind has dedicated their intellect to the discovery thereof; the study of science alone is sufficient to trace the arch of human history. Whereas the grandeur of politicians, explorers, and emperors may be subject to contention, the greatness of scientists nobody disputes: this alone illustrates humanity’s shared reverence and aspiration for scientific truth.

Nature bred mankind; under the blessings offered by science — a perfect planet of mild temperature, an environment conducive to evolution, — came the advent of man. We are the heirs of nature, and, as a child wishes to be acquainted with his mother, we study science to examine our origins and are humbled with its greatness. Under the domain of nature, whose language is science and mathematics, we thrived: through agriculture, botany, and our increasing awareness of nature, we came to tame our planet and built our civilizations. Within merely millenia of existence, we humans are now the masters of our planet who are aware of the science behind atoms and molecules and planets and galaxies; science bred us, and, in turn, we study science, as though it is a form of gratitude and compensation.

Just as nature has its own art, and the universe has its own science, we humans, though still children of nature, are somewhat rebellious: we began to develop our own art and our own science. Our existence upon this planet is not only preoccupied with the study of the science of nature, but also we are absorbed with creating our own art — sciences unique to us and absent elsewhere in the universe, as though a child of a mother has his own offspring in the future. Language, literature, philosophy, culture, religion, morality, music, art, dance, theatre, fashion… These are the defining art of man, unique to us. Science bred us, but in turn, as if we are engaged in some rebellious creativity, we bred our own science and devised our own art. Though science gave birth to us and we remain under its vast domain, it no longer permeates every aspect in our lives. Physics is still the master over planets and stars, but now can only look at our literature and poetry with a pair of envious eyes; biology still reigns aloft above flowers and animals, but is humbled at our music, poetry, philosophy, and religion. Humans are born under science, but have transcended science, and built our own brilliance beyond the scope of science.

Mankind, then, is acquainted with two arts: he knows the art of nature — mathematics, physics, chemistry, biology… — and this knowledge is one of reverence and awe; he also knows the art of man — literature, philosophy, beauty, music… — and this knowledge is one of pride and contentment. Mankind, therefore, stands between the two arts, the two sciences, claiming one of them to be its sire, the other its son. Both of these in unison are forces of moderation: the art of nature humbles us and makes us bow under the greatness of the universe; the art of man elevates us and fills our hearts with pride above the beauty we created. The art of nature and the art of man are, thus, both indispensable, like two lobes in the same brain, in the shaping of man’s perception.