I guest post by Brian Smith:
The farmer, athlete, and
soldier…now there are three admirable vocations. Everyone looks up to them. The
apostle Paul used them as examples of nobility and faithfulness that is as true
today as it was two millennia ago when he wrote his young protégé Timothy. We
today add to that pantheon doctors, astronauts, police and firemen, and cowboys
(not Dallas). Dare I say it: we vocationally idolize them. We also get movies
and TV shows that uphold that adulation.
But I’m a chemist…I get the media
image of Breaking Bad and its anti-hero
Walter White.
With the rare exception of praise
that comes from creating some wonder drug (but betcha can’t name the inventor
of penicillin), my vocation has a public image that ranks a little above
politicians, pimps, prostitutes, and tax collectors- abject sinners, the lot of
them. But even lawyers get Atticus Finch in To
Kill a Mocking Bird to buck up the heart of every sleazy ambulance chaser.
My positive movie example comes from Lorenzo’s
Oil (1992) where a chemist prepares and distills a natural oil to help a
boy in dire medical condition. Even then he only shuffles in, does his lab
work, and shuffles out…not an awe inspiring portrayal. Otherwise, I get the
stock evil scientist working for the big evil villain in James Bond movies. But
then came Walter White on the scene, a character I can’t so easily dismiss or
ignore.
Breaking Bad chronicles the life of an overqualified high school
chemistry teacher after he gets a medical death sentence from cancer. He turns
to use his skills to make only enough illegal drugs to build a nest egg for his
family after his demise. But his best laid initial plans go awry as he gets
consumed by his new career and his cancer goes into remission. The bitter fruit
piles up as he is tailed by the Feds, encounters workplace violence in ways we
can’t imagine, and family dissolution. But he’s hooked and eventually proclaims
“I’m in the empire business.” And guess who the emperor is?
Despite seeing only the final few
episodes of the series, I see some vocational lessons and cautionary tales
beyond the obvious (don’t make illicit drugs). I don’t make meth, or even
wonder drugs. I make chemicals that go into cleaners for things as different as
fabrics, metal ores, automobiles, and glass. It is fun and I enjoy it; no, I
really enjoy it.
I must admit, part of my lament on
the non-appreciation for my vocation stems from it being once on a lofty perch
of admiration. DuPont’s slogan was “Better Living through Chemistry” and people
believed it. Nat Geo even did a 40 page article on the wonders of chemistry
(way back in 1938, “Chemists Make a New World”). Like Stinky Pete in Toy Story 2 who sums up the decline of
cowboy toys due to the two evil words “Sput Nik”, kids also haven’t gotten
chemistry sets for Christmas since the days of The Lone Ranger and, er, Woody’s
Roundup. Irresponsible dumping of chemical waste gave my industry a black eye
that has yet to fade. I’m reminded of that when we give lab tours to school
kids and I ask them the question, “What’s a chemical?” the answers invariably
revolve around the words, “poison, dangerous, it’ll kill you”. I then try to
reset their thoughts by saying that everything
in the universe is a chemical but then I destroy that point by later melting a
penny with nitric acid (a poisonous, dangerous chemical that’ll kill you).
So, being vocationally love-lost,
I found the anti-hero Walter White oddly enthralling (I admit that not seeing
all five seasons of his decent into hell aided the allure). As justice requires
of a life overflowing with evil, lies, greed, judgment, and death, in the end, he
gets wounded as he exacts revenge on his enemies while showing a surprising act
of grace. His life sinks apace as he draws his last strength to go to the lab. O,
how my vocational heart soared as he lovingly touches and pats his “special
love”, his bright and shiny stainless steel reactor, the source of his Empire
of Dirt. I begin to think of my “special love”, my half-gallon titanium
reactor. His final act is his bloody hand sliding off the reactor as his empire
slips from his grasp, lubricated by his own blood. Strains of Badfinger begin
to play…”I guess I got what I deserved…”
Wow, what an end. But as I
reveled in the attention garnered by a character who I could generally identify
with and who “got it” regarding the technical affection for the trade I ply and
enjoy, I caught myself and wondered how I got hooked by someone who actually
“lost it” in every other way imaginable.
So from where and how did this
absurd idol surge forward?
It starts when I put my
self-affirmation eggs in my vocation basket. Our work should provide a positive
source of pride by knowing we serve the needs of others through vocation. But
going overboard, I say to others (not out loud), “Just try living without what
I provide for you, buddy” (in my case, the stuff you need to clean your stuff).
You do it too. But don’t forget that Adam Smith’s profound Division of Labor concept
gets out of balance when we devalue what we enjoy at the hand of others. In
math terms, when viewed as a simple fraction, if my life contributions are the
numerator and is huge in my mind, and
your contributions are the denominator and is so tiny in my mind that it may as well be zero, then the term is by
definition undefined…because you can’t divide by zero…there is no answer…you
can’t get there from here…and life doesn’t work since such a life-calculation
doesn’t work. The apostle Paul made the same point to 1st century
Christians in Corinth by challenging them to comparing their roles to parts of
the body that need each other, regardless of perceived value, to live and thrive.
Life gets non-functional and really ugly otherwise.
We can also over-extend our
vocational strengths and capabilities so they become our weakness and downfall.
And you don’t have to go from high school chemistry teacher to meth maker to
make the point. Engineers are great manipulators of nature’s laws to design,
build, and run things. But it is interesting that two of the least successful
presidents of the 20th century were engineers: Hoover and Carter.
They couldn’t design a well-engineered America since the hearts of men aren’t
as easily manipulated as nature’s laws to desired ends. Many failures in the
1930’s and ‘70’s resulted because their pride led them to extrapolate well
beyond their useful data. God laughs at those who like to play “social
engineer”, I think.
He also laughs at scientists who
extrapolate their prowess to the dangerous philosophy of Scientism (all of life
is governed and explained by nature’s laws. It is the high-priestly pursuit of
the scientist to discover and explain and use truths to the betterment of the
masses, unwashed and ignorant sheep that they are). Real danger ensues when
they cozy up with politicians. Scientists can be arrogant in a way and it leads
to lofty thoughts of self-importance and superiority because of supposed
brain-power.
We are not wrong to want some validation
from how we spend most of our lives’ waking hours. But it must not be our
ultimate validation. Reminders are there to prod us to avoid life-validation
from our work. For instance, most people don’t take or have the time to
consider the intricate and subtle benefits we bring to each other. So don’t
spend your time grousing about the foolish blindness of others to your
contributions to their lives (chances are you don’t fully appreciate them
either). It’s a self-assuring but isolating idol to self. No wonder the evil,
maniacal scientist is such a persistent stereotype…”Fools, I’ll destroy you
all!”
But more than that, the search
for significance can cause our heart to reach and claw for it through even the
most unsavory vicarious hero in their moment of reaping what they have sown. This
we do just to build an idol- one manufactured in our heart, for self-image, for
self-assurance, for self-identity; “I did it for me, because I enjoyed it” (as
Walt admits to his wife). You see Walt’s bloody hand sliding off that reactor
and may think it a compelling dramatic effect, but I know that could be my
hand.
God save me from bloody
vocational-idol hands and redeem them for others’ good and Your glory.
(Alexander Fleming invented penicillin)
by Brian Smith
