On Nature Rewritten
This piece explores humanity’s enduring tension between reverence and reason, and the impulse to shape life itself. Drawing on Aristotle, Spinoza, and the Romantics, it argues that creation is not a trespass against nature but the highest expression of our rational and divine curiosity.
"I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed"
— Mary Shelley, Frankenstein (1818)[1]
Is creation itself a trespass against nature, as Mary Shelley warned,[1:1] or is it the highest expression of our rational divinity? What is the limit to our insatiable hunger to discover and to meddle with the very foundations that construct life itself? These anxieties clash with the passions of discovery, stirring within us as science drives beyond what any previous age could imagine. Should we then seek to repress this innate wonder under the shadows of our own fear?
…
As children, we are intoxicated with the wonder of learning, discovery and dreams. The enchantment lies not only in grasping the world that surrounds us, but in the creations of our imaginations — a fire that remains even after innocence fades. This is to be known as the affect of thaumazein — or complete wonder — which awakens our astonishment before philosophy or science.[2] Aristotle regarded this capacity as that which most distinguishes us from the animals; the innate spark that drives the pursuit of knowledge itself. Creation, then, is not a trespass against nature, but a dialogue between intellect and reverence - an act through which reason seeks to understand nature's motions and express itself through forms shaped by purpose.
This passion drives us to create the very technologies which we now consider integral to our flourishing. But when do we play God — when does creation itself become an act of desecration? The exponential expansion of technology, described by Moore's Law,[3] is a profound phenomenon deeply vital through the evolution of civilization. The continual reconstruction and reimagination of the tools that allow us to prosper has long given rise to fear for their apparent inexorability. Romantic authors such as William Blake and Mary Shelley warned of the dangers of unrestrained rationalist pursuit, driven by a fear of losing the sacredness of the human spirit. In Frankenstein (1818),[1:2] Shelley does not critique science itself, but the abandonment of our personhood in the blind pursuit of creation. In The Book of Urizen (1794),[4] Blake personifies reason as a tyrannical force that constrains divine imagination, suppressing our sanctity as creative beings and leading to the destruction of the soul. His work serves as a critique of the mechanistic rationalism of the Enlightenment, and a reflection of the enduring anxiety toward technological advancement. Despite their fears, both authors reveal that it is not reason itself but its separation from imagination and self-expression that threatens the sacredness of nature.
Humanity has always feared its own curiosity, seeking comfort in the certainty of stillness. From the discovery of combustion to the reconstruction of the foundations of life itself through genetic engineering,[^a] countless minds have fallen to the irrationality of neo-luddism — opposition to the march of modern scientific advancement. Technologies such as AI, deepfakes, and nuclear power seem to threaten our humanity by automating expression and eroding the beauty found in subjectivity. We learn to fear creation itself and mistake reverence for rationality as hubris. Yet, it is only through the courage to create that we have been able to ask these questions at all. To create is not to defy the order of life, but to revere through reason and curiosity, which lies within the telos of our being. From the intellect arises the sacred beauty of our species, where curiosity carries this power further. The manipulation of all that forms life — our genetic makeup — is not an affront to nature or to God, but an expression of our nature itself. Through our divine capacity to wonder and reason, we participate in the order of nature rather than remain passive observers. These faculties fulfill our sanctity, rather than violate it through the advancement of technology.
Curiosity and reason are therefore not sins but virtues, and to deny them is to deny our very telos. Aristotle held that the highest function of man was rational activity in accordance with virtue[5] — and, therefore, the pursuit of knowledge, including that which supposedly threatens divinity, is natural to our species. Aristotle's framework on the ethics of creation recognises the moral goodness that necessarily follows from fulfilling the function of nature, which is reason guided by virtue. Curiosity and creation then, are expressions of our rational and natural faculties, embodying the moral essence of our nature. Spinoza established that God and Nature are one, or Deus sive Natura,[6] thus, by exploring nature through science which may provoke — such as genetic engineering — is an act of understanding His essence, rather than a contradiction of Him. Isaac Asimov later observed the tension in modern settings, “The saddest aspect of life right now is that science gathers knowledge faster than society gathers wisdom”.[7] His reflection illustrates that reason, when divorced from virtue, risks the same abandonment of creation that Shelley warns against.
Life is sacred and the human form is to be respected. But sacredness is not fragility.
To explore the possibilities of our biological form is to recognise arete [5:1] — excellence by Aristotle — and to live at our highest virtuous function. To deny our own sense of curiosity is to deny our very nature and value as a species. The dignity of life is not violated by editing our own genes anymore than it was by the first domestication of livestock, or by the development of medicine and vaccines. To rewrite our own biological script is to sail further into the excellence of our inevitable stewardship. Those who embrace biotechnologies and the advance of our biological foundations will flourish, whilst those who resist shall stagnate — in a cowardly denial of their own humanity. In recognising their own excellence, the courageous will lead through their increased power to act having dared to embrace the unknown.
The beauty of humanity's rational curiosity is sacred, giving us the agency to seek to understand the motions of the world which we find ourselves in. I urge all to rekindle the flame we once carried as children — a wonder which has been integral to our development as a species. The divine conversation between our intellect and the construction of life itself is one to be pursued with an openness and curiosity. Take the intellectual courage of our predecessors and embrace our very nature and intellect, as “all men by nature desire to know”.[2:1]
“The more we understand particular things, the more do we understand God.”
— Baruch Spinoza, Ethics (1677).[5:2]
Notes:
[^a] By genetic engineering, I refer to the contemporary methods used in biotechnology such as CRISPR-Cas9, synthetic and recombinant technology — applications that enable us to edit the very text directing nature. For current developments, please see Nature’s ‘Genetic Engineering’ 7 portfolio: https://www.nature.com/subjects/genetic-engineering.
References
Shelley M. Frankenstein. London: Lackington, Hughes, Harding, Mavor & Jones; 1818. ↩︎ ↩︎ ↩︎
Aristotle. Metaphysics. Mineola, New York: Dover Publications, Inc; 2018. ↩︎ ↩︎
Britannica. Moore’s law | computer science. In: Encyclopædia Britannica [Internet]. 2019. Available from: https://www.britannica.com/technology/Moores-law. ↩︎
Blake W. The Book of Urizen. 1794. ↩︎
Aristotle. The Nicomachean Ethics. London, Oxford University Press; 1959. ↩︎ ↩︎ ↩︎
Benedictus De Spinoza, Boyle A. Ethics (of) Spinoza. London, J.M. Dent And Sons; New York, E.P. Dutton & Co; 1948. ↩︎
Asimov I, Shulman J. Isaac Asimov’s book of science and nature quotations. New York: Weidenfeld & Nicolson; 1988. ↩︎