Why We Should Remember E.O. Wilson
A scientist's emotion-filled account
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I became acquainted with renowned evolutionary biologist E.O. Wilson just over 6 weeks ago when his 1998 book, Consilience, was selected for my book club. I had heard of him, but only because I dabbled in academic neuroscience. I had grown quite fond of his work, on this, the last week of our discussions, when I read this in our group chat:
For the record, I reacted with a shocked face emoji. My cohorts are not as couth, claiming that because we (a bunch of idiots) started reading one of his seminal works, he decided to kick the bucket. I get it, though; it’s hard to understand why we should care about someone we don’t know. This is exactly the type of thing Wilson studied.
I have gotten to know Wilson through his publications, interviews, and lectures, reading dozens of articles about his vast accomplishments. To someone who didn’t know of him or why they should care, these articles are a lifeless laundry list. Wilson would probably claim that we need a social-emotional connection to really understand a thing, and given my instantaneous affinity for him, it seemed fitting for me to explain why I found E.O. Wilson to be a remarkable human and biologist.
E.O. Wilson may have looked like the standard-issue caricature of a scientist, but he showed me that a scientist can be many things. Scientists are often portrayed as rigid, focused, and impermeable to failure, leaving me feeling as though my intensely emotional nature disqualified me from being a good one. When I heard Wilson say that “the scientist is a mess of emotions”, I felt seen. He believed that “the ideal scientist thinks like a poet, works like a bookkeeper, and writes like a journalist”. Wilson’s way with words helped me connect with him and showed me that most of all, he was a storyteller.
Wilson was also deemed a trespasser by his friend, Thomas Eisner, the “father of chemical ecology”. I can relate to this, as I’ve veered out of my career lane on many occasions. In the context of Wilson, I can’t imagine searching for unifying principles that tie together the humanities and sciences without “trespassing” in either domain. In Consilience, Wilson edges into the final frontier: the irreconcilable differences between the objective and subjective, the physical and metaphysical.
Wilson’s out-of-bounds attitude and relentless pursuit of understanding led him into a great deal of trouble - even straight into a bucket of ice water. His ideas had political implications that left him famous and infamous. Called racist, arrogant, and a proponent of scientism, he was outcast by some of the world's most famous scientists for his ideas about genetic influence over behavior. He stuck with his ideas despite all of this - until the evidence mounted against them.
Two weeks before Wilson’s passing fellow Pulitzer prize winner Richard Rhodes recalled how “someone said once ‘Ed Wilson’s a bit of a bomb thrower’” in explaining how Wilson had changed his mind on the topic of kin selection. It may seem silly, but changing your mind as a public intellectual is a big deal. Scientists change their minds all the time in private, but when public opinion is concerned, changing your mind has career-killing implications. Wilson had little concern for the fickle nature of the public. If he thought the evidence warranted, he followed. As someone who often flies in the face of what is popular, I find Wilson’s irreverence inspiring.
Wilson also rejected the position of atheist, claiming ‘I’m a scientist. Wilson had the truest nature of a scientist: respect for the unknown and the audacity to believe we might understand everything with science. He pursued this understanding well into his final years, establishing a biodiversity laboratory in Mozambique at 85. Like the fictitious Jurassic skeptic Ian Malcolm, I personally wonder if in the future we might be saying “scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could that they didn’t stop to think if they should”.
I’d like to imagine Wilson smiling reading this because apart from his passion and conviction, he had a lovely sense of humor. It was subtle and selfish, the kind of humor we don’t see often enough. Befitting his saucy attitude, he seemed to make jokes because he thought they were funny, regardless of their reception. He was shady and nerdy, my favorite combination, calling himself eo- Wilson as in “a primitive Wilson" and clapping back at one of the most famous detractors of his work, Richard Dawkins, calling him a ‘journalist’. When asked about their disagreement he said “The arguments I’ve had have actually been with scientists doing research.” In a lecture on genes and culture, Wilson gives a commencement from the perspective of an evolved termitic species, drawing a few chuckles from the crowd. In the same lecture, he describes the pleasure of being cannibalized by your ant tribe with laughs and memes only from me.
Despite the purported pleasure of self-sacrifice and his studies on eusocial behaviors, Wilson considered that our gorilla grip on tribalism might be the downfall of our species. While I agree that there are aspects of tribal society that are dangerous, my tribe is how I came to find Wilson. We found him the way we found each other: through our insatiable thirst for understanding, connection, and of course laughter. Wilson believed that the reason for human existence is our advanced social predilection. We form groups to survive, but now the implication of those groups might be our demise. As stone-age-brained humans, we haven’t evolved past the need for connection, and sorry Eo, I hope we never do. Connection with Wilson’s work has brought me immense joy, wonder, and so many laughs. I hope that if we fall from this particular edge of chaos, we will recrystallize as an improved species that reaps all the benefits of social connection.
Natasha Mott, Ph.D. is a neuroscientist and author. You can find her as theory_gang on most platforms and on her new podcast, Syllojism.