“Is it fine, Vano Aleksandrovich? What about disease?”
“Disease… so that's your angle: disease as an error in the workings of the basic construction system.” The professor's eyebrows turned into sinusoids. “The mistakes that we try to rectify with pills, compresses, vaccinations, and other operative interference, and usually without much success. But… disease is the result of those effects of the environment that the organism can't handle.”
“And why can't it? After all, we know in most cases what is harmful — that's the basis of disease prevention, epidemic control. We try, simply, to keep away from danger. But the environment keeps spewing out new mysteries: X — ray radiation, welding arcs, isotopes — “
“Enough!” The professor raised both hands in surrender. “I have the feeling that you have a secret answer on the tip of your tongue and you just can't wait for your interlocutor to bulge his eyes and ask with timid hope: 'But why? All right! Look: my eyes are open wide.” The whites of his eyes, shot with red, sparkled. “And I am asking the long — awaited question. Why can't people control their metabolism?”
“Because they've forgotten how it's done!” Krivoshein thundered.
“Bah!” the professor slapped his knee in glee. “They used to know and forgot? Like a phone number? Interesting!”
“Let's remember that the human brain contains a huge number of unactivated cells: ninety — nine percent, and in some, ninety — nine point something. It's unlikely that they exist just like that, for a backup reserve; nature doesn't allow excess. It's only natural to posit that those cells contained information that is now lost. Not necessarily verbal information — there is little of that in our organisms now because it's too crude and approximate — but biological information, expressed in images, feelings, sensations — “
“Stop! I know the rest!” Androsiashvili shouted exultantly. “Martians! No, better than Martians. After all, they're going to get to Mars sooner or later, and then it could be checked. Let's say inhabitants of a planet that used to exist somewhere between Mars and Jupiter that has since disintegrated into asteroids. Highly intelligent creatures lived there. They had an artificial, varied environment, and they knew how to control their organisms to adapt to the environment and also for fun. And these inhabitants, sensing that their planet was about to die, moved to Earth.”
“Perhaps it was that way,” Krivoshein agreed calmly. “In any case, we must assume that man had highly organized ancestors wherever they came from. And they went wild, finding themselves in a wild, primitive environment with harsh living conditions — in the Cenozoic Era. Heat, jungles, swamps, animals — and no conveniences. Life was reduced to the struggle for survival and all their refinements were wasted. Then over many generations it was all lost, from literacy to the ability to control metabolism. Really, Vano Aleksandrovich, put a city dweller in the jungle now, and see what happens to him!”
“Very effective!” Androsiashvili smacked his lips in pleasure. “And the excess brain cells remained in the organism along with the appendix and hairy underarms? Now I understand why my dear colleague Professor Valerno calls science fiction 'intellectual decadence. “
“Why? And what does that have to do with this?”
“Because it replaces sober discussion with effective games of the imagination.”
“Well, you know,” Krivoshein countered, getting angry, “in systemology we don't put down working hypotheses with references to the ban mots of friends. Any idea is usable if it is profitable.”
“And in biology, comrade graduate student,” Androsiashvili shouted, rolling his eyes, “we only use ideas that are based on a sober, materialistic approach! And not on the ruins of a fantasy planet! We deal with something more important than technology — we deal with life! And since you are now working in our field, I suggest you remember that! Any dilettante comes along. and, phahh!” He immediately cooled off and changed to a peaceful tone. “All right. Let's make believe that each of us has smashed a plate. Now back to the serious things: why is your hypothesis, to put it mildly, dubious? First of all, the 'unactivated' brain cell — technological terminology is not applicable to biological concepts. The cells are alive — therefore they are already activated. Secondly, why not assume that these billions of cells are there as a reserve?”
Vano Aleksandrovich got up and looked down at Krivoshein.
“My dear comrade graduate student, I do have a little knowledge of technology — after all, I am an evening student at MEI! — and I know that you, hmm, in systemology, you have the concept and problem of reliability. The reliability of electronic systems is guaranteed by a reserve of parts, cells, and even units. Then why not assume that nature has created in man the same kind of reserve for reliability in the brain? After all, nerve cells do not regenerate.”
“It's an awfully big reserve!” The graduate student shook his head. “The average man uses a million cells out of a possible billion.”
“And talented people use tens of millions! And geniuses. actually, no one's measured their cells yet — maybe they use hundreds of millions. Perhaps the brain of each of us is reserved for genius potential? I tend to feel that genius and not mediocrity is man's natural state.”
“Very effectively put, Vano Aleksandrovich.”
“I see you are a cruel man. but, think what you will, my reservations have as much value as your hypothesis about Martians gone wild. Hah, and if you take into account the fact that I am your advisor and you are my student, then they are even more valuable!” He sat down. “But let's get back to the major issue: why is present — day man incapable of controlling the autonomous nervous system and metabolism? You know why? Because it hasn't come to that yet.”
“So that's it!”
“Yes. The environment teaches man in only one way: through conditioning drills. You know that in order to form a conditioned reflex the situation and stimulus must be repeated frequently. And that's just how life experience develops. And in order to form an unconditioned reflex that is inherited the drill must be repeated for many generations for thousands of years. You were right about the biological information in the organism; it is not expressed verbally, but by the reflexes, both conditioned and unconditioned. And it is man's will that controls reflexes, of course, in a limited way. You don't think through from beginning to end which muscle must contract how much when you light a cigarette, and you don't think through the chemical reactions of the muscle contraction. The consciousness gives the order to light up and the reflexes take over. Both the specific one that you acquired from practicing that filthy habit — crumple the cigarette, inhale the smoke — as well as the general ones passed on to you from your distant ancestors: grabbing, breathing, and so on…” Vano Aleksandrovich — it wasn't clear whether it was intended to be an illustration or not — lit a cigarette and exhaled a stream of smoke toward the ceiling.
“I'm leading up to the fact that the consciousness controls when there is something to control. In the operative part of the organism, when the final action, as Sechenov noted long ago, is a muscular one… remember?” Androsiashvili sat back in his chair and quoted:” 'A child laughing at a toy, Garibaldi smiling at the accusation of excessive love for his country, a young girl trembling at the first thoughts of love, Newton creating universal laws and writing them down — the final fact in all these instances is muscular action. Ah, how brilliantly Ivan Mikhailovich wrote! So the operative part gives the mind something to control and lets it choose among its vast store of conditioned and unconditioned reflexes for each unique situation. And in the constructive part, where the body's chemistry takes place, there is nothing for the mind to do. Just think for a moment about what conditioned reflexes are involved in metabolism?”