In an age defined by massive waves such as environmental crises and artificial intelligence, what questions should we be asking as we live our lives? Climate change has already become part of our daily reality, and technology is reshaping the very way humans think. In this time of uncertainty, we sat down with ecologist Professor Choe Jae-cheon (Professor Emeritus at Ewha Womans University / Board Member of the POSCO TJ Park Foundation / Recipient of the POSCO TJ Park Prize in Education) to ask what we must protect and how we can continue to live together.

 

1. Mr. Choe. Thank you for taking the time to speak with us today. Could you start by sharing how you’ve been doing lately with our readers?

It’s wonderful to see you again—it’s been quite a while. After spending my life teaching students at various institutions, from Harvard University to Ewha Womans University, I officially retired in the summer of 2025. These days, I run a small space called “Choe Jae-cheon’s Jagyeon Geulbang,” a nature-themed writing space in Paju Book City, where I live as its “keeper.” I’ve spent my life studying biodiversity and observing the social behaviors of animals, and now I’m deeply enjoying sharing those insights through writing and lectures with a broader audience.

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2. We’ve heard that a fateful encounter shaped your path. How did you first come across sociobiology?

In my youth, I was very much a “literary young man.” (Laughs) Then one day, I happened to read Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s essay “The Campfire and the Ants.” The image of worker ants throwing themselves into flames for the sake of the colony stayed with me. That question led me to study abroad in the United States, where I took a class on sociobiology. At that moment, I realized: This is exactly what I’ve been searching for. I immediately sought out Professor Edward O. Wilson, the founder of the field. I was fortunate enough to become his student, and that marked the beginning of my life as a sociobiologist.

 

 

3. What research topics or issues occupy your mind the most these days?

Since my mentor, Professor Wilson, was a leading authority on biodiversity, I naturally followed that path. But today, the climate crisis has become overwhelmingly severe. Seeing young people struggle with what’s now called “climate anxiety” breaks my heart. What we need most right now is hope. Analyzing how nature is destroyed is important, but it has become equally vital to scientifically document how nature heals and restores itself. Although I’ve stepped away from active research, I continue urging the next generation of scholars to carry on this “record of hope.”

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4. You’ve long emphasized the importance of biodiversity. Many people understand its importance but feel unsure how to practice it in daily life. What would you suggest?

There’s a phrase I repeat often: “Once you know, you begin to love.” It starts with understanding why even a nameless roadside plant or an insignificant-looking insect deserves to coexist with us. Simply chanting slogans like “Let’s protect nature!” can quickly lead to burnout. Instead, take an interest in how living things survive. Study them. Once you know them, you begin to care—and when you care, you naturally want to protect them without being told. In that sense, learning is the very beginning of conservation.

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5. You often emphasize “consilience” in the age of AI and say that the humanities are becoming more important. Why is that?

Many people mistakenly believe that surviving the AI era means everyone must become an AI expert. In reality, those who develop new technologies will always be a small minority. Most people will work in fields that apply those technologies to everyday life. While a basic understanding of AI is essential, what most people truly need is the ability to ask good questions—how to use AI wisely and meaningfully. That ability belongs not to technology, but to philosophy and the humanities. That’s why I believe the AI era may finally usher in the long-awaited age of the humanities, making the integration of natural sciences and humanities more important than ever.

 

 

6. You’ve criticized excessive competition in Korea’s education system. What would you like to say to young people struggling within this structure?

Competition is inevitable. But winning doesn’t always require destroying others. That’s why I talk about “coopetition”—competing through cooperation. “Survival of the fittest” does not mean “survival of the single best.” When environments grow harsh, it’s not one perfect individual who survives alone. Rather, those who fail to adapt fall away, while many survive together. In nature, those who join hands often outlast lone wolves. Winning alone is short-lived. Winning together lasts longer. Nature has already proven this truth. The path of mutual support and shared success is clearly open to us.

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7. Your comment at last year’s Seoul National University commencement—“Life is longer than you think”—resonated with many. Any further words for impatient young people?

Life really is longer than you imagine. Failing once or twice doesn’t mean the world has ended. Over a long journey, opportunities for dramatic reversals appear more than once.

Don’t rush just because others seem ahead. Instead, figure out what you truly want and prepare steadily. If you do that, opportunities will come—and when they do, that’s when you run.

 

 

8. Finally, do you have a message for the Foundation’s scholarship recipients and young researchers?

I don’t want to prescribe any single experience. You will almost certainly live to 100. According to futurists, people will change careers five or six times over their lives. In such a world, digging only one well is no longer a wise strategy. When you’re young, don’t calculate experiences based on cost-effectiveness. Instead of asking, “Will this make money later?” follow what excites you and try many things wholeheartedly. Those fragments of experience will eventually become the solid foundation that supports your 100-year life.