Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes.
We've heard it at funerals, read it in ancient texts. But here's the thing: it's not poetry. It's chemistry.
We're temporary configurations of reactive matter. Borrowed atoms arranged in patterns complex enough to perpetuate themselves for a while. Then the reactions slow, organization breaks down, and we return to simpler shades of reactivity.
Dust on a brief detour through complexity. Then dust again.
So what happens during that detour? What's the difference between a rock and a tree and us?
We can't define life. Ask a biologist and you'll get a checklist that immediately breaks down: viruses don't metabolize, mules can't reproduce, seeds show no activity for decades. Yet we've built legal systems, moral frameworks, and entire religions around this undefined concept.
Let's try something different. Forget "life"—it's too loaded. Let's talk about what we can observe: a spectrum of reactivity.
Matter reacts. Some barely at all, some in staggeringly complex ways.
At one end: A rock. A chunk of iron. Noble gases in space. Minimal reactivity—they respond to gravity and temperature, but nothing's happening internally.
Moving along: Ice melts. Rust forms. Combustion releases energy. Chemical reactions flow toward equilibrium.
Getting interesting: Oscillating reactions that cycle and create patterns (Belousov-Zhabotinsky). Self-organizing systems—crystals growing, hurricanes maintaining structure. Chemistry that looks organized but still follows predictable rules.
Further still: Self-sustaining chemical networks. Autocatalytic sets. RNA that copies itself. Prions replicating their misfolded shape. Chemistry that perpetuates itself.
And then...
Adaptive reactivity.
A bacterium encounters a toxin. It detects the chemical, processes that information through internal signaling, and responds by producing proteins to pump the toxin out or by moving away.
The bacterium—no brain, no nervous system, no awareness—senses a condition and adjusts its behavior in a way that helps it persist.
This isn't just reacting. This is conditional logic. IF this THEN that. Chemistry implementing decision trees.
How does matter develop conditional logic?
We can map every molecule. Sequence every gene. Watch proteins fold in real-time. It's all particles following physics. But the emergent behavior is a system that modifies itself to keep going.
That's the gap in our understanding.
Evolution explains the history: random variations, natural selection, billions of years favoring persistent patterns. That tells us how we got here.
But does it explain the programming? Does it explain how, right now, chemistry implements "sense and respond appropriately"?
I'm asking. I don't know.
This is where humans get creative.
Life force. Souls. Divine spark. Intelligent design. Panpsychism.
Every culture looks at adaptive reactivity and concludes: something else must be involved. Because chemistry behaving purposefully without any purpose breaks our pattern-recognition brains.
The bacterium acts like it wants to survive. The tree acts like it's reaching for light. Our bodies act like they're defending themselves.
Maybe it's just what chemistry does at certain complexity thresholds. Maybe there's something qualitatively different about adaptive systems we haven't grasped yet.
We don't know. Not yet.
We call it "life" because we need a word for chemistry that works to perpetuate itself. We invented gods and souls because adaptive behavior looks so much like purpose.
What does the universe actually deal in? We observe gradients of reactivity—from rocks to hurricanes to bacteria to us. But our current understanding of these shades is surely just a fragment of a much larger picture we haven't seen yet.
Where exactly does the transition happen in that spectrum? We're still figuring that out.
The gap matters because we make massive decisions based on undefined terms.
When does "life" begin? End? What deserves protection? What can we use, kill, consume? Laws. Wars. Control over bodies and autonomy—all built on a concept we can't fully define.
Because sitting with "we don't know" is uncomfortable, we reach for stories. Simple answers. Certainty where none exists.
The gap between self-replicating chemistry and adaptive behavior might be the most important thing we need to keep discussing. In that gap lives every assumption we make about what matters.
Here's what concerns me: Are we wasting our brief flash of reactivity clinging to made-up answers, fighting over undefined terms, building moral certainties on conceptual quicksand?
We're organized chemistry asking questions about how chemistry organizes itself. We're navigating shades of reactivity we've barely begun to map, trying to understand a gradient that extends far beyond what we can currently perceive.
We're dust that learned to wonder. Let's make it count.