Month: November 2023

Consider your hand: dozens of small precisely aligned bones and the muscles that animate them. More than a hundred ligaments and tendons, not to mention all the nerves and blood vessels that need to be woven together and threaded through the wrist and up the arm. And all of this bound up in one felicitous, functional, compact package. It’s an architectural masterpiece. Where is the blueprint?

Your first guess might be “in the DNA.” Because that’s about the only place we know about where biology stores explicit plans. But you will search in vain to find the blueprint for a hand in your DNA. But if it’s not in our genes, then where is it? Here is the astonishing answer: We have no idea. Ain’t that a hoot? Seems like kind of a big lapse, eh?

You can, of course, zoom into any part of the body and ask the same questions. Everywhere you look, there is incredibly specific and robustly reproduced three-dimensional detail, and yet there is nowhere we can point and say “this is where the plan is kept.” That’s not to say that there is no such place. There must be. But we are, for now, largely ignorant of whole systems of cellular organization and direction.

In the name of exposition, I overstated our ignorance a little. We’re starting to have some inkling of how growth is modulated, thanks to the work of people like Dr. Michael Levin of Tufts University. Levin has been an energetic spokesperson for the idea of bioelectricity as a basis for what might be called cellular cognition. What is bioelectricity? It sounds kind of woo-woo at first, but the notion is straightforward. We all understand that our brain function is based on a network of neurons connected by synapses. It turns out that all cells, not just neurons, have the ability to communicate with each other via electric potentials and gradients. And they’ve been at it for a long time. In a sense, your entire body is a big brain with the ability to manage growth.

It’s not controversial that your brain can use electricity to maintain and reason about a vast set of complex topics. It’s not controversial because you’re doing it right now by reading this sentence. And well done, you! By analogy, it’s not unreasonable that networks of electrically-connected cells can reason on the problem of three-dimensional assembly. And Levin’s lab is starting to turn up evidence that this is the case. For instance, experiments with flatworms (we’re a long way from doing these things with humans) have shown that the same DNA can lead to very different body plans. There is some kind of as-yet poorly understood software layer that mediates physiological assembly. We will eventually understand it, and when we do, Levin predicts that we’ll be in a position to build what he calls an “anatomical compiler.” Dial in how many legs and eyes you want, press the GROW button, and stand back.

The big lesson here is that cognition is old, older than brains. It exists in some form wherever there is life, and it exists at many levels in many systems even in the same organism. It’s fun to watch this research unfold in real time. We’re witnessing the birth of an entire field. If you’re interested in learning more about this work, here are some links.

• How to understand cells, tissues and organisms as agents with agendas | Aeon Essays
• How evolution ‘hacked’ its way to intelligence from the bottom up | Aeon Essays

There’s even a TED talk:

A lot of discussion about the problems of our world is framed like this: “If an alien visited our planet and saw how much we were polluting it, they would be horrified by how short-sighted and self-destructive we are.” Or something like that. Pick your favorite bad thing that humans do, then have an alien visit and comment on our stupidity.

I understand why people use this framing. If you want to make some critical commentary, it helps to imagine an outsider’s perspective. But I think we need to give those aliens a little more credit. They’re not naive. They’ve seen it all before. To reach a point where they could zoom across the galaxy and pontificate about earthlings, they had to pass through a larval stage similar to the one we’re in now. They may be disgusted by our smell, but I doubt they’ll be shocked.

Image by Midjourney

I suppose there’s a chance they’ll treat us like worms, to be harvested or simply removed, but my expectation is that they’ll treat us with fascination and at least a little sympathy. I like to imagine an alien saying something like this: “Jeez, I remember middle school. Man that sucked. Don’t be too hard on yourself. It gets better.” Or maybe: “Ha! Your languages are just as irregular and hard to pronounce as Vugxshimnhiac! And your government – that bozo reminds me of Herpderp the Vain back home.”

They won’t be disinterested, rational superbeings. They’ll be a collection of the hardworking and the lazy, the conformists and the oddballs. You know, kind of like us. “Why does that weirdo Ixnagulon keep doing butt probe research on these poor natives? He’ll lose his funding if he keeps that up.”

My premise is that people are people, and er… so are aliens. Any sufficiently advanced alien is indistinguishable from your uncle. As a result, they’ll have a good chuckle when they see a lot of our stupid behavior. Of course, they might also say “By the way, give us your lunch money.” But at least they won’t be surprised at our stupidity.