Is there an essence to being human that transcends a scientific description?

There is a nice Biologos podcast about the wonderful novel Transcendent Kingdom by Yaa Gyasi. In the format of a book club three women reflect on the book. Lynette Strickland recently finished a PhD in biology, Rachel Wahlberg is a neuroscience graduate student, and Christina Bieber Lake is a literature professor. Each begins by reading one of their favourite passages from the book. Their discussion increased my appreciation of the book, wanting me to read it again and I am now suggesting it be read in a couple of the book clubs that I am part of.

This podcast made me aware of where the title of the book first appears in the narrative, besides. Below the main character, Gifty, a neuroscience graduate student, reflects on her work in the lab.

“Though I had done this millions of times, it still awed me to see a brain. To know that if I could only understand this little organ inside this one tiny mouse, that understanding still wouldn't speak to the full intricacy of the comparable organ inside my own head. And yet I had to try to understand, to extrapolate from that limited understanding in order to apply it to those of us who made up the species Homo Sapiens, the most complex animal, the only animal who believed he had transcended his Kingdom, as one of my high school biology teachers used to say. That belief, that transcendence, was held within the organ itself. Infinite, unknowable, soulful, perhaps even magical. I had traded the Pentecostalism of my childhood for this new religion, this new quest, knowing that I would never fully know.”

Later Gifty reflects more about the mysteries of human consciousness and the struggle to use science to answer our deepest questions.

“a neuroscientist who has at times given herself over to equating the essence that psychologists call the mind, that Christians call the soul, with the workings of the brain. I have indeed given that organ a kind of supremacy, believing and hoping that all of the answers to all of the questions that I have can and must be contained therein. But the truth is I haven’t much changed. I still have so many of the same questions, like “Do we have control over our thoughts?,” but I am looking for a different way to answer them. I am looking for new names for old feelings. My soul is still my soul, even if I rarely call it that.”