de somnium

I had just started attending university, and, having passed from the age of childhood, was deliberating what to study. The university offered courses in both the liberal arts and sciences, and both seemed to offer their own rewards. As I pondered which path to take, a vision came to me in a dream through the immortal night, just as described by the Homeric poets.

At a quiet and rustic crossroads appeared two women, towering over my own short stature, each grabbing hold of my arms and dragging me towards herself in such forceful competition that I felt close to being torn in half. And they were shouting at each other, both laying claim to my life. Their cries intermingled until it was no longer clear what was being said, nor by which, though I was able to pick out the phrases “enrollment numbers” and “tuition.”

Both were fair and well-dressed, but one was more austere and sober with dark hair, grey eyes and a shining white cloak. “I, dear child, am Science, whom you have already began to learn, related to you from both your parents, for they are both engineers and have reached success through me. If you are willing to keep away from her silliness and nonsense”—with a gesture toward the other—“and to follow me, you will learn how the world functions, from the forces of subatomic particles to the dynamics of whole ecosystems to the orbits of the planets. You will be respected by your neighbors and have the power to better the world with your work. Do not be discouraged by my humble clothing, for this is the way that Archimedes, Galen, Tesla, Oppenheimer and many others began under my tutelage.” Science said all this, and even more, with crisp diction and an even voice.

And when Science stopped, the other began. With rosy cheeks, a warm smile and brightly colored hair and mantle, she spoke in a more informal manner. “My child, I am Humanities, already familiar and known to you since you first began to read. Science may teach you how the world works, but with me you shall learn why the world works. Follow your passions in literature, history, art or linguistics and you may unravel the greatest mystery of all: human nature. Many doors will be open to you, for the skills you gain shall be broad and flexible. Even in the fields of science, technology and business you can find paths through me. For even Galen studied rhetoric and philosophy, and Oppenheimer poetry and linguistics.”

At this point, I was no more decided than when I started, equally drawn to both paths. Seeming to realize this, the two women devolved into a rapid exchange, each attempting to catch my attention. No sooner had Science called out “Through me you will learn logic and critical thinking,” Humanities followed up with “The same could be said of me, but you would also learn teamwork and collaboration.” Science soon rejoined with an indignant “Science does not exist in a vacuum! Follow me and you can work together with peers across the world.” Humanities laughed riotously and spoke, “As if my own children are not similarly spread throughout the continents!”

This exchange ensued for quite some time, until my head spun fiercely and I shouted in distemper, “Why, it seems as if you two have more similarities than differences!” The two stopped and stared at me intently, until I blushed under their scrutiny, but still I continued: “Both of you are interesting and offer enigmas to be solved, both of you teach ways to solve problems, and both of you can lead to a successful career. Why should I have to choose between you two, if both interest me?”

After a period of silence, each woman looking toward the other, Humanities shrugged. “I had not realized we could be considered so, and why should she have to choose?” Science then murmured a quiet agreement, “Perhaps I can teach her some knowledge you lack, and you can impart what I myself lack. Shall we cease such silly competition?” So saying, they shook hands and walked away together, each giving me a gentle smile of approval. As they departed and I felt the fingers of wakefulness begin to drag at me, I faintly heard Science ask Humanities, “What have you heard about that new round of budget cuts?”