
The Light of Understanding

Imagine a world where architects design and build extraordinary, soaring creations; where people have developed ways of producing energy from water, wind and the heat deep within the ground; where they can transform sea water into fresh water to drink; where advanced medicine means that people live long and healthy lives; where advanced agriculture means people have plenty of nutritious food to eat; where technology exists to allow visualisation of the most minute structures, and to see distant stars; where there are vehicles for flying in the air and moving under water; where communication is possible over vast distances; and all of this possible because of efforts to expand our knowledge of the world and ourselves – and share that knowledge freely.
It’s not too hard to imagine, because – in the 21st century – in some places at least, it seems we’re almost there. But, in fact, what I’ve just described is actually a vision of an advanced civilisation imagined by the English philosopher Francis Bacon in the early seventeenth century, in his unfinished utopian novel, New Atlantis.
In 1969, Sir Peter Medawar gave his presidential address to the British Society for the Advancement of Science – and he mused on how far humanity had come since Bacon’s New Atlantis. Medawar looked back, comparing the philosophical landscape of the 1960s with that of the seventeenth century. When Bacon was writing this story, in 1623, Europe was politically unstable, to put it mildly. The Thirty Years War was raging, with more and more states being drawn into this battle between Catholic and Protestant hegemony, claiming the lives of millions. Bacon was going against the grain.
Against a background of pervasive philosophical gloom, he spoke up for the potential of humans to understand nature and to use that knowledge, that ‘light of understanding’ to effect positive change in the world. A new spirit of enquiry was taking hold. Looking back from his vantage point in the late 1960s, Medawar felt that society was perhaps even less hopeful in his time, despite great advances in research of all kinds, and a stunning increase in life expectancy. But Medawar argued that we shouldn’t be despondent: that we should continue striving for knowledge, and for the application of that knowledge to make the world a better place.
In the 21st century, despite all the undeniable progress that has been made, our world feels politically fragile; our societies are vulnerable to famine, conflict and infectious diseases. And we now face huge ecological challenges in the form of climate change and loss of biodiversity.
We might not be able to picture the solutions yet, but that’s absolutely not a reason to give up, to stop trying. Surely it is our duty, just as Bacon and Medawar urged us, to push ourselves forwards, employing all sorts of knowledge – that light of understanding – to make the world a better place, to effect what is possible.
That mission is something that organisations like the University Âé¶¹¾«Ñ¡ should be leading. There are few organisations today better placed than universities like ours to offer that credible hope and a positive vision for the future. We need to grasp that potential. For the fruits of curiosity and enquiry to be translated into helping people and planet to make wise choices, we need to find synergy and consilience between different disciplines and we need to throw open the doors of the ivory tower. The University Âé¶¹¾«Ñ¡ is a great generator of knowledge – but the real potential for that knowledge to transform lives will only be met through the open exchange of ideas: real dialogue, discussion and debate. We need that conversation to be as wide as possible, bringing in as many different people and perspectives as we can. We need to make the effort to connect with communities across all parts of society and to engage people with our work in ways that move and mobilise them. And we need to be prepared to listen, respond and adapt.
We must dare to imagine that we will find solutions to the challenges facing us.