Imagine a young man stepping aboard a ship, eyes wide with wonder and a mind brimming with questions. The ocean stretches before him, vast and unknowable, promising discovery but also demanding courage. This is not the story of a bold conqueror but of someone driven by an insatiable curiosity—a quiet bravery fueled by the desire to understand the world.
The young man is not a warrior or a revolutionary in the usual sense. His tools are not swords or politics, but notebooks and specimens. And yet, his journey—a journey into the heart of nature itself—requires every bit as much fortitude as any battlefield. To embark on such a path is to embrace uncertainty, to accept that the answers might upend everything you’ve been taught to believe.
The true marvel of this story is not just the knowledge the young man uncovered, but the openness with which he approached it. This was a person who allowed the world to speak to him—through fossils, feathers, and finches. He listened. He learned. And he dared to be vulnerable, to admit that the world might be more intricate, more interconnected, than anyone had imagined.
The young man was born on February 12, 1809. Mail delivery is not suspended that day, and no one really exchanging gifts or sends cards to loved ones in commemoration. But for me, the annual celebration of Darwin Day (as in “Charles,” if you haven’t yet guessed) is worth sharing. As an anthropologist and professor at a regional university, I find myself deeply connected to this spirit of exploration and discovery. Every day, and especially in the middle of dark and dreary February, I step into the classroom with the same sense of wonder and curiosity that drove Darwin to the far corners of the earth. My students and I together navigate the vast ocean of human history and culture.
Darwin's journey resonates with me on a profound level. His voyage was metaphorical as well as famously literal. He was not a perfect person. He had doubts, sometimes crushing ones. He procrastinated. A lot. It is partly because I share his flaws that I find him so worthy of emulation. Full disclosure: I am so much a fanboy that I ignored many of the more tourist-friendly sites in the UK to instead track down the places he went in prepping for the Voyage of the Beagle, his brother’s flat where he stayed when attending lectures, and his residence while at university.
It is Darwin’s meticulous observations and willingness to challenge established norms that inspire my own work. In my lectures, I strive to instill in my students the same sense of curiosity and critical thinking. I encourage them to question, to explore, and to embrace the unknown. Just as Darwin's finches revealed the secrets of evolution, I hope to guide my students in uncovering the complexities of human societies.
But he can also motivate us to think beyond the classroom. Darwin was not a teacher (he dropped out of medical school and never completed his training as a clergyman). Education and inspiration can come from the wider world. Books, conversations at local eating establishments, listening to others sharing your car or bus or – like Darwin – your boat. Those are the places to celebrate Darwin Day year-round by keeping an open mind and asking probing questions. It’s this spirit of wonder, this blend of bravery and humility, that we should memorialize. A reminder that progress doesn’t come from certainty or rigidity, but from questions, from curiosity, and from the courage to follow where the evidence leads—even if it changes everything.
So let us honor not just the knowledge gained, but the audacious heart that sought it. For in every question we ask, in every mystery we ponder, we keep alive that same daring spirit. It’s a spirit that reminds us: the act of wondering is an act of hope, and the pursuit of truth is a journey worth taking.
Happy Darwin Day to all!
Music: "Ride Captain Ride" by Blues Image