A Dialogue of the Deaf

Periodically I have a lively and entirely futile discussion with someone (she knows who she is) who is fascinated and impressed by such research fields as neuroscience and evolutionary psychology and what they have to tell us about 'human nature'. Our latest 'heated debate' was sparked by this review of Marilynne Robinson's new book (which, needless to say, I look forward to reading). The familiar dialogue of the deaf ensued, the details of which I shan't rehearse here, but it ended in the usual frustrated impasse. The trouble is that not only do I not believe many of the lofty claims made for both these sciences, I fundamentally don't care - whereas She manifestly does. For me, the stories told by science may well be strong and persuasive, but they strike me as stories that tell me nothing I especially need or want to hear, and their reductionist tendency is simply depressing. This means that these recurrent discussions are really the equivalent of any conversation between an enthusiast who can't see how anyone could fail to be fascinated by his/her enthusiasm, and a non-enthusiast who is equally incapable of seeing how anyone could be. Stalemate.