Two important figures in history-an American president and a British naturalist-were born on the same day in 1809. The impact of each has been universal, profound and enduring.
Even so, when Feb. 12, the anniversary of their births, arrives each year in this country, Abraham Lincoln gets a lot more recognition than Charles Darwin.
In fact, it`s practically a total eclipse. The tributes to Lincoln are countless; Darwin has to settle for an occasional light-hearted birthday party in which some fellow dresses in an ape costume, like the one the Biology Club throws annually in his honor at the University of Illinois at Chicago.
Without getting into the reasons for this disparity, consider this proposition:
Darwin deserves better. Not equal time necessarily, but a brief nod now and then on the 12th day of the second month doesn`t seem too much to ask.
After all, while some people may think of Darwin merely as the guy who said monkeys are our ancestors, his notion about how life develops and sustains itself has become the fabled 800-pound gorilla, dominating the scene wherever it chooses to sit.
It doesn`t matter whether you agree or disagree with Darwin or never give him a thought.
Supporters and critics alike say he is reponsible for establishing evolution as a prevailing view in the modern world, not only in biology but in other areas as well, and that to a great degree most of us tend to see our place in the scheme of things through Darwin`s eyes whether we realize it or not.
``From science to literature to philosophy to psychology to religion, Darwin`s work completely restructured our way of thinking about ourselves,``
says Robert Richards, professor of history and philosophy of science at the University of Chicago and author of ``The Meaning of Evolution,`` published this year by the University of Chicago Press.
Whereas human beings once saw themselves as the product of divine intervention in the natural order, exalted and distinct from all other creatures, the reigning premise now is that we have evolved over millions of years from other primates and that we share common ancestors with all animal species.
The changes in our perceptions began with ``On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection.`` In this landmark book, Darwin introduced the notion of natural selection, by which organisms with characteristics that help them adapt to their environment tend to survive and pass on those characteristics.
``Theories about evolution had been around before Darwin,`` says Joel Craycraft, professor of biological sciences at UIC. ``Darwin`s contribution was to provide a mechanism that explained how it happened.``
The gradual, trial-and-error process of natural selection, Darwin wrote, leads to the creation of new species that are specially suited to a particular environment.
``Darwin laid to rest the idea that organisms were immutable, that you could have a catalog of all the species like you would an album of postage stamps,`` says Joel Brown, assistant professor of biology at UIC.
Darwin`s assertions initially provoked outcries from his contemporaries in science, but his research was impressive and, in the end, persuasive-at least with regard to evolution.
When ``Origin`` appeared in 1859, says Richards, ``no British scientist of any reputation could be described as an evolutionist. By the time Darwin died in 1882, many would dispute natural selection, but hardly any scientist could be found who wasn`t an evolutionist.``
On a personal level, Darwin`s evolution to scientific eminence seems as remarkable as Lincoln`s rise to chief executive.
Yet their origins could scarcely have been more different.
As every American schoolchild learns, Lincoln`s birthplace was a one-room, dirt-floor log cabin in rural Kentucky and his early life a struggle with poverty.
Darwin, born in a three-story brick mansion in Shrewsbury, England, was a child of privilege and wealth. His father and grandfather were prominent physicians, and his mother was the sister of Josiah Wedgwood, founder of the famous pottery company.
Finding the curriculum boring and the operations unsettling, young Charles dropped out of medical school in Edinburgh and entered Cambridge University to study to be a country parson, though he spent most of his time at parties and fox hunts.
After graduation he joined a commercial and scientific voyage that, in the words of paleontologist Stephen Jay Gould, ``bred the greatest revolution in the history of biology.``
He was 22 when he signed on the British ship Beagle as a naturalist. Because his credentials for this post were virtually nonexistent, it`s probable, historians say, that the captain chose him chiefly for his social skills as a dinner companion.
The voyage lasted five years, and Darwin, adapting to the demands of his new environment, developed into an accomplished naturalist.