Stribor Marković is currently an Associate Professor at the University of Rijeka Faculty of Biotechnology and Drug Development, where he teaches several courses. He was born on March 23, 1974. He graduated in Medical Biochemistry and Pharmacy in 1998 and earned his PhD in Pharmaceutical Sciences in 2005.
Throughout his career, he has held positions as a researcher at PLIVA, Director of a research program within the same company, Laboratory Manager at GlaxoSmithKline, and Quality Manager at the Imunološki zavod. For many years, he has also collaborated with Atlantic Farmacia as a consultant.
Most people know him for his interest in plants and herbal medicines, and he accepts that identification, although he is aware that it conceals many of his other experiences and areas of expertise. He is also deeply passionate about writing, the popularization of science, and the history of medicine.
Honorary lecture: Biochemistry and the Philosophy of Man
The idea of Vis vitalis had roots as deep as human mysticism itself, woven into the fear and incomprehension of the enormous forces that shaped the environment of our ancestors at the edge of the cave. Even the great Claude Bernard did not always resist its allure. The world rejected René Descartes’ idea of the human being as a well-oiled machine, only for the nineteenth century to usher in the beginning of the deconstruction of man into molecules that we can now literally produce in a test tube. Never had human vanity been shattered so forcefully—so much so that, even today, we have not fully admitted it.
Yet, in the deconstruction of human essence, a great deal of soul emerged. The fear that dismantling Vis vitalis would reduce man to the notion of an organic-chemical machine proved unnecessary. Layer by layer, biochemistry revealed the many faces of humanity: the one that comprehends, marvels, and understands complexity. Without biochemistry there is no medicine, no new drugs, no new therapeutic directions, no uncovering of ancient molecular paleontology, and no transformation in our perception of what life is and how it should be defined.
Paradoxically, the destruction of Vis vitalis made us more sensitive—some would even say more spiritual. I will not be quite so bold. All I want is to tell the story of the profession I chose while studying beneath the sound of thousands of shells exploding. For me, biochemistry is introspection. At seventeen, I was reading the Sarajevo textbook Biohemija by Professor Winterhalter-Jadrić, while my late Aunt Vava watched and said, “That madness too shall pass.” She used to say that after the Second World War, people emerged from the camps carrying knowledge of chemistry, medicine, and French—so that they could rebuild a world shattered into pieces.
