On World Microbiome Day 2025
Posted:
I celebrate with microbiome scientists, workers, and enthusiasts across the world, and the breathtaking work they do every day. At this day and age, microbiome science continues to push the boundaries of what it means to do science. In health, food, environment, and climate. But to work in this field is to live with complexity every day. Studying it requires humility before nature's complexity. As I worked through my own thesis, I finally understood where the shortage in interest often comes from: the scale of it all can be overwhelming. We've come a long way but it's still a looooong way to go.
Microbes receive far little appreciation; less than plants, less than animals, less than fungi. And perhaps I understand why: we don't see them. It's difficult to love what we don't usually encounter with our eyes. Microbes require a kind of faith, a conscious effort to reach out and understand. It takes patience and curiosity to connect with them, to commune, to truly appreciate their quiet presence. After working with them for years, I've come to admire their beauty, and I wish more people could, too. To appreciate the smallest things. The micro things.
I really love this a quote from astrobiologist Betül Kaçar;
"I like to think that if you don't like microbes, this planet is not for you."
It makes sense. The whole show is run by microbes here. Their entire existence is to govern Earth itself. They're literally the ones who shake the Earth, more than plants, more than animals... more than us. To understand them is to understand how Earth works and to learn, perhaps, how better to care for it.
But to talk to them, it requires a bit of work. You need to do this stuff [points to a Linux terminal on the PC]. You need to talk in a different language. Something more binary. Moving from wet lab to dry lab work was a different game. It required a different skillset. Handling hundreds of gigabytes of computational data, writing code from scratch, reading countless papers just to produce one working script, wrestling with logic-all were not a walk in the park. Success in getting an answer from my tiny friends rarely comes quickly. It demands patience, intuition, and a tolerance for uncertainty. Despite it all, I consider myself fortunate to be part of a supportive lab that encourages the kind of research I've always wanted to do. The kind that feels more like a passion more than work...
In a country where computational resources are scarce and local talents even rarer, such a task is equivalent to diving into an uncharted territory. The Philippines has yet to know what it means to be involved in microbiome research. There's so few of us here. And to be given an opportunity to work on this obscure field, has become more than just a privilege; it's a luxury, it's a labor of love and it's duty. And though at times it feels lonely, with only a handful of us working on a rapidly evolving field that gives more questions more than answers, the truth is: no one really does this alone.
They say that "it takes a village to raise a scientist.”
And I am proud to call this my village. It may be small, but a village nonetheless.
Luv u, TOX! You were the complete opposite of the word.
(Q.C., 06/2025)
Microbes receive far little appreciation; less than plants, less than animals, less than fungi. And perhaps I understand why: we don't see them. It's difficult to love what we don't usually encounter with our eyes. Microbes require a kind of faith, a conscious effort to reach out and understand. It takes patience and curiosity to connect with them, to commune, to truly appreciate their quiet presence. After working with them for years, I've come to admire their beauty, and I wish more people could, too. To appreciate the smallest things. The micro things.
I really love this a quote from astrobiologist Betül Kaçar;
"I like to think that if you don't like microbes, this planet is not for you."
It makes sense. The whole show is run by microbes here. Their entire existence is to govern Earth itself. They're literally the ones who shake the Earth, more than plants, more than animals... more than us. To understand them is to understand how Earth works and to learn, perhaps, how better to care for it.
But to talk to them, it requires a bit of work. You need to do this stuff [points to a Linux terminal on the PC]. You need to talk in a different language. Something more binary. Moving from wet lab to dry lab work was a different game. It required a different skillset. Handling hundreds of gigabytes of computational data, writing code from scratch, reading countless papers just to produce one working script, wrestling with logic-all were not a walk in the park. Success in getting an answer from my tiny friends rarely comes quickly. It demands patience, intuition, and a tolerance for uncertainty. Despite it all, I consider myself fortunate to be part of a supportive lab that encourages the kind of research I've always wanted to do. The kind that feels more like a passion more than work...
In a country where computational resources are scarce and local talents even rarer, such a task is equivalent to diving into an uncharted territory. The Philippines has yet to know what it means to be involved in microbiome research. There's so few of us here. And to be given an opportunity to work on this obscure field, has become more than just a privilege; it's a luxury, it's a labor of love and it's duty. And though at times it feels lonely, with only a handful of us working on a rapidly evolving field that gives more questions more than answers, the truth is: no one really does this alone.
They say that "it takes a village to raise a scientist.”
And I am proud to call this my village. It may be small, but a village nonetheless.
Luv u, TOX! You were the complete opposite of the word.
(Q.C., 06/2025)
Leave a Comment