Nearly 2100 years ago—a generation or two before Jesus was
born—a Roman poet created an astounding work of art and science. Although it
was regarded at the time as an achingly beautiful poem, it was also a prescient
description of the workings of this universe—literally a scientific treatise
that would require nearly 2000 years to prove its veracity. The Roman author of the
work was Titus Lucretius, and he titled it De
rerum natura in Latin, which translates to On the Nature of Things. It’s an extensive work, running some 7400
lines of verse, grouped into six books.
Lucretius based his insights on earlier Greek schools of
thought, some of which taught that everything in the universe is made of invisible
building blocks, which they called atoms,
from the Greek word atomos, which
means “indivisible.” The notion of the existence of atoms had originated over 400
years before Lucretius came along. It began with ancient Greeks such as
Leucippus, Democritus, and Epicurus. These atomistic ideas competed with
several other theories of matter, but eventually faded; losing out to the Greek
schools headed by more wealthy and aristocratic scholars—particularly
Aristotle. In addition, the concepts promulgated by Aristotle and his cohorts fit
more comfortably with religious teachings of the time, and then were embraced
by the Christian Church, after it came to power.
Lucretius expanded upon the teachings of the early Greek
atomists and incorporated several other ideas, laying out an astoundingly
accurate description of the physical world, long before humans had the
scientific instruments to prove the truth of his writings.
Science has historically developed its understanding of how
the universe behaves in two contrasting ways: via intuition and by
experimentation (as well as by some combination of the two). Those who made
intuitive discoveries usually puzzled over some natural phenomenon for a
lengthy period, before an insight suddenly came to them. Einstein brooded about
relativity for years—nearly losing his mundane job because of his
daydreaming—and then the elegant answers suddenly came to him, almost like in a
dream. Isaac Newton had escaped London’s black plague and for months sat
scribbling safely at his country desk, before realizations came to him of the
nature of forces and their effects on bodies.
Both of these men’s insights were expressed through elegant
descriptions and mathematics. It was many years before other scientists could
conduct the necessary experiments that could verify their theories—either
because the necessary instruments had not yet been invented or no one had even
conceived of such experiments.
The second principle way of scientific exploration is by
experimentation. With instruments in hand, an experiment is conducted, that
explores some aspect of the natural world, and often leads to some new
understanding of how nature works.
What is astounding about Lucretius’ On the Nature of Things is that he was two millennia ahead of his
time—rather than just a couple of decades, as in Einstein’s case. It fascinates
me that, strictly through mental effort, Lucretius and his cohorts could have
had such profound insight, so far ahead of their time. How could they have
anticipated that everything in the universe is composed of endless combinations
of tiny building blocks that were far beyond their ability to see or touch? Not
only that, but Lucretius also anticipated evolution (1800 years before Darwin!)
and expounded a philosophy that touched on spiritual matters. His thoughts in
these areas are amazingly modern in tone.
A just-published book by Stephan Greenblatt (The Swerve) describes how Lucretius’
book barely escaped being lost to history; it was remarkably discovered in a
German monastery some 1500 years after he had penned it. His insights had lain
dormant until the 15th century, and, when rediscovered, played a
major role in fueling the scientific achievements of the Renaissance, and
giving modern science its kick-start.
Why had Lucretius’ prescient ideas not become the foundation
of scientific understanding during his time? Primarily because they clashed
with the philosophical and religious beliefs that came to prominence in the
centuries after the early flourishing Greek culture. For centuries—up to and throughout
the so-called dark ages—the Western world based its views of the natural world
on dogma that stifled scientific discovery.
More on Lucretius’ insights next time…
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