When science examines romantic attraction

(In other words, love and affection)

It uses the methods that serve us so well

But hearts can’t survive a dissection.

We study, in science, by breaking up problems

And looking at pieces and bits

Assemble the puzzle to show the big picture—

Assuming each smaller piece fits!

In life, we see love as a powerful feeling

It’s typically shared (say, by two);

You wouldn’t find love by examining neurons

But that’s something science might do.

A chemical cocktail assaulting the cortex,

Anandamide flooding the brain

Endogenous opiates running amok

And you’re either in love, or insane

Neurochemistry surely is crucial, I know,

But something important is missing

I’ve never encountered a brain, on its own,

With an interest in hugging or kissing.

Your genes play a part, I’m reliably told

By geneticists (likely, they’d know)

Though environment, epigenetically, molds

How those characteristics might show.

My heartbeat will race at the thought of your face

And my stomach gets tied in a knot

My fingers may tremble; my brow may perspire,

And other parts start feeling hot.

But none of these pieces can claim to be love

They’re mere tiles, in a larger mosaic

This modern view separates love into pieces;

My view is a bit more archaic

When I tell you I love you, you know what I mean:

Not only with all of my heart

Not only my brain, as complex as it is,

But all of me—every last part.

Looking through my blog stats, I have noticed the beginnings of the February Bump–the google hits for “biology valentines poem” or “scientific valentine” or the like (including charming misspellings).   And so, I give you this year’s offering.   Funny thing is, it looks like it is an argument against a science of love, and that is not at all my view.  I am very much in favor of using the power of science to study love; I’ve even taught a senior seminar, half of which was on love (the other half, war. go figure.).  What I am opposed to is reductionism masquerading as explanation.  Love is something that whole organisms (usually people, but if you’ve watched my cat…) do, not something that parts of organisms do.  A proper explanation of love is not one which points to neurotransmitters or hormones; if anything, that is the how of love, but not the what or why.

For the one-stop-shopping ease of my readers, allow me to link to a couple of earlier valentines: the one that gets the most hits is the Evolutionary Biology Valentine’s Day Poem.  It did make it to The Open Laboratory–the collection of the best science blog posts of that year.  Oddly enough, the previous year, Much Ado About The Brain? was featured in that year’s Open Laboratory (and it is a love poem, which explains the link), and the following year, A Scientific Valentine made the collection.  One I don’t recommend you use is What Do Women Want? (A Valentine’s Day Poem), but hey, if that works for you, go for it.  Lastly, one of my favorites that I will not give you permission to use is An Uncommon Valentine Poem.  That was for a particular person, and it is hers, so you can’t have it.

You have my permission, as per this post, to use these valentine verses if you wish.  Frankly, if you are in the sort of relationship where these are appropriate, you are an incredibly lucky person, and who am I to stand in the way of such a force of nature?  No payment is required.  However, having just found out that CuttleDaughter has been approved for a semester overseas, I would be tremendously grateful if those who use these verses and can afford to, would notice the tip jar over there to the right.  And, not that I’m voyeuristic or anything, but I’d love to hear about any positive (or humorous negative) reactions to these verses, if you do use one!