Engines of Creation: The Coming Era of Nanotechnology
THE PRINCIPLES OF CHANGE
(Chapter 2)
Think of the design process as involving first the generation of alternatives and then the testing of these alternatives against a whole array of requirements and constraints.
MOLECULAR ASSEMBLERS
will bring a revolution without parallel since the development of
ribosomes, the primitive assemblers in the cell. The resulting nanotechnology can
help life spread beyond Earth - a step without parallel since
life spread beyond the seas. It can help mind emerge in machines
- a step without parallel since mind emerged in primates. And it
can let our minds renew and remake our bodies - a step without
any parallel at all.
These revolutions will bring dangers and opportunities too vast
for the human imagination to grasp. Yet the principles of change
that have applied to molecules, cells, beasts, minds, and
machines should endure even in an age of biotechnology,
nanomachines, and artificial minds. The same principles that have
applied at sea, on land, and in the air should endure as we
spread Earth's life toward the stars. Understanding the enduring
principles of change will help us understand the potential for
good and ill in the new technologies.
Order from Chaos
Order can emerge from chaos without anyone's giving orders:
orderly crystals
condensed from formless interstellar gas long before Sun, Earth,
or life appeared. Chaos also gives rise to a crystalline order
under more familiar circumstances. Imagine a molecule - perhaps regular
in form, or perhaps lopsided and knobby like a ginger root. Now
imagine a vast number of such molecules moving randomly in a
liquid, tumbling and jostling like drunkards in weightlessness in
the dark. Imagine the liquid evaporating and cooling, forcing the
molecules closer together and slowing them down. Will these
randomly moving, oddly shaped molecules simply gather in
disordered heaps? Generally not. They will usually settle into a
crystalline pattern, each neatly nestled against its neighbors,
forming rows and columns as perfect as a checkerboard, though
often more complex.
This process involves neither magic nor some special property of
molecules and quantum mechanical forces. It does not even require
the special matching shapes that enable protein molecules to
self-assemble into machines. Marbles of uniform size, if placed
in a tray and shaken, also settle into a regular pattern.
Crystals grow by trial and the removal of error, by variation and
selection. No tiny hands assemble them. A crystal can begin with
a chance clumping of molecules: the molecules wander, bump, and
clump at random, but clumps stick best when packed in the right
crystalline pattern. Other molecules then strike this first, tiny
crystal. Some bump in the wrong position or orientation; they
stick poorly and shake loose again. Others happen to bump
properly; they stick better and often stay. Layer builds on
layer, extending the crystalline pattern. Though the molecules
bump at random, they do not stick at random. Order grows from
chaos through variation and selection.
Evolving Molecules
In crystal growth, each layer forms a template for the next.
Uniform layers accumulate to form a solid block.
In cells, strands of DNA or RNA can serve as templates too,
aided by enzymes that act
as molecular copying machines. But the subunits of nucleic acid
strands can be arranged in many different sequences, and a
template strand can separate from its copy. Both strand and copy can then
be copied again. Biochemist
Sol Spiegelman has used a copying machine (a protein from a virus) in test tube
experiments. In a simple, lifeless environment, it duplicates RNA
molecules.
Picture a strand of RNA floating in a test tube together with
copying machines and RNA subunits. The strand tumbles and writhes
until it bumps into a copying machine in the right position to
stick. Subunits bump around until one of the right kind meets the
copying machine in the right position to match the template
strand. As matching subunits chance to fall into position, the
machine seizes them and bonds them to the growing copy; though
subunits bump randomly, the machine bonds selectively. Finally
the machine, the template, and the copy separate.
In the terminology of Oxford
zoologist Richard Dawkins, things that give rise to copies of
themselves are called replicators. In this environment,
RNA molecules qualify: a single molecule soon becomes two, then
four, eight, sixteen, thirty-two, and so forth, multiplying
exponentially. Later, the replication rate levels off: the fixed
stock of protein machines can churn out RNA copies only so fast,
no matter how many template molecules vie for their services.
Later still, the raw materials for making RNA molecules become
scarce and replication starves to a halt. The exploding
population of molecules reaches a limit to growth and stops
reproducing.
The copying machines, however, often miscopy an RNA strand,
inserting, deleting, or mismatching a subunit. The resulting
mutated strand then differs in length or subunit sequence. Such
changes are fairly random, and changes accumulate as miscopied
molecules are again miscopied. As the molecules proliferate, they
begin to grow different from their ancestors and from each other.
This might seem a recipe for chaos.
Biochemists have found that differing RNA molecules replicate at
differing rates, depending on their lengths and subunit patterns.
Descendants of the swifter replicators naturally grow more
common. Indeed, if one kind replicates just 10 percent more
rapidly than its siblings, then after one hundred generations,
each of the faster kind gives rise to 1,000 times as many
descendants. Small differences in exponential growth
pile up exponentially.
When a test tube runs out of subunits, an experimenter can sample
its RNA and "infect" a fresh tube. The process begins
again and the molecules that dominated the first round of
competition begin with a head start. More small changes appear,
building over time into large changes. Some molecules replicate
faster, and their kind dominates the mix. When resources run out,
the experimenter can sample the RNA and start again (and again,
and again), holding conditions stable.
This experiment reveals a natural process: no matter what RNA
sequences the experimenter starts with, the seeming chaos of
random errors and biased copying brings forth one kind of RNA
molecule (give or take some copying errors). Its typical version
has a known, well-defined sequence of 220 subunits. It is the
best RNA replicator in
this environment, so it crowds out the others and stays.
Prolonged copying, miscopying, and competition always bring about
the same result, no matter what the length or pattern of the RNA
molecule that starts the process. Though no one could have
predicted this winning pattern, anyone can see that change and
competition will tend to bring forth a single winner. Little else
could happen in so simple a system. If these replicators affected
one another strongly (perhaps by selectively attacking or helping
one another), then the result could resemble a more complex
ecology. As it is, they just compete for a resource.
A variation on this example shows us something else: RNA
molecules adapt differently to different environments. A
molecular machine called a ribonuclease grabs RNA
molecules having certain sequences of exposed subunits and cuts
them in two. But RNA molecules, like proteins, fold in patterns
that depend on their sequences, and by folding the right way they
can protect their vulnerable spots. Experimenters find that RNA
molecules evolve to sacrifice swift replication for better
protection when ribonuclease is around. Again, a best competitor
emerges.
Notice that biological terms have crept into this description:
since the molecules replicate, the word "generation"
seems right; molecules "descended" from a common
"ancestor" are "relatives," and the words
"growth," "reproduction," "mutation," and
"competition" also seem right. Why is this? Because
these molecules copy themselves with small variations, as do the
genes of living organisms. When varying replicators have varying
successes, the more successful tend to accumulate. This process,
wherever it occurs, is "evolution."
In this test tube example we can see evolution stripped to its
bare essentials, free of the emotional controversy surrounding
the evolution of life. The RNA replicators and protein copying
machines are well-defined collections of atoms obeying well-understood
principles and evolving in repeatable laboratory conditions.
Biochemists can make RNA and protein from off-the-shelf
chemicals, without help from life.
Biochemists borrow these copying machines from a kind of virus
that infects bacteria
and uses RNA as its genetic material. These viruses survive by
entering a bacterium, getting themselves copied using its
resources, and then escaping to infect new bacteria. Miscopying
of viral RNA produces mutant viruses, and viruses that replicate
more successfully grow more common; this is evolution by natural
selection, apparently called "natural" because it
involves nonhuman parts of nature. But unlike the test tube RNA,
viral RNA must do more than just replicate itself as a bare
molecule, Successful viral RNA must also direct bacterial
ribosomes to build protein devices that let it first escape from
the old bacterium, then survive outside, and finally enter a new
one. This additional information makes viral RNA molecules about
4,500 subunits long.
To replicate successfully, the DNA of large organisms must do
even more, directing the construction of tens of thousands of
different protein machines and the development of complex tissues
and organs. This requires thousands of genes coded in millions to
billions of DNA subunits. Nevertheless, the essential process of
evolution by variation and selection remains the same in the test
tube, in viruses, and far beyond.
Explaining Order
There are at least three ways to explain the structure of an
evolved population of molecular replicators, whether test tube
RNA, viral genes, or human genes. The first kind of explanation
is a blow-by-blow account of their histories: how specific
mutations occurred and how they spread. This is impossible
without recording all the molecular events, and such a record
would in any event be immensely tedious.
The second kind of explanation resorts to a somewhat misleading
word: purpose. In detail, the molecules simply change haphazardly
and replicate selectively. Yet stepping back from the process,
one could describe the outcome by imagining that the
surviving molecules have changed to "achieve the goal"
of replication. Why do RNA molecules that evolved under the
threat of ribonuclease fold as they do? Because of a long and
detailed history, of course, but the idea that "they want to
avoid attack and survive to replicate" would predict the
same result. The language of purpose makes useful shorthand (try
discussing human action without it!), but the appearance of
purpose need not result from the action of a mind. The RNA
example shows this quite neatly.
The third (and often best) kind of explanation - in terms of
evolution - says that order emerges through the variation and
selection of replicators. A molecule folds in a particular way
because it resembles ancestors that multiplied more successfully
(by avoiding attack, etc.), and left descendants including
itself. As Richard Dawkins
points out, the language of purpose (if used carefully) can
be translated into the language of evolution.
Evolution attributes patterns of success to the elimination
of unsuccessful changes. It thus explains a positive as the
result of a double negative - an explanation of a sort that seems
slightly difficult to grasp. Worse, it explains something visible
(successful, purposeful entities) in terms of something invisible
(unsuccessful entities that have vanished). Because only
successful beasts have littered the landscape with the bones of
their descendants, the malformed failures of the past haven't
even left many fossils.
The human mind tends to focus on the visible, seeking positive
causes for positive results, an ordering force behind orderly
results. Yet through reflection we can see that this great
principle has changed our past and will shape our future: Evolution
proceeds by the variation and selection of replicators.
Evolving Organisms
The history of life is the history of an arms race based on
molecular machinery. Today, as this race approaches a new and
swifter phase, we need to be sure we understand just how deeply
rooted evolution is. In a time when the idea of biological
evolution is often slighted in the schools and sometimes
attacked, we should remember that the supporting evidence is as
solid as rock and as common as cells.
In pages of stone, the Earth itself has recorded the history of
life. On lake bottoms and seabed, shells, bones, and silt have
piled, layer on layer. Sometimes a shifting current or a
geological upheaval has washed layers away; otherwise they have
simply deepened. Early layers, buried deep, have been crushed,
baked, soaked in mineral waters, and turned to stone.
For centuries, geologists have studied rocks to read Earth's
past. Long ago, they found seashells high in the crushed and
crumpled rock of mountain ranges. By 1785 - seventy-four years
before Darwin's detested book
- James Hutton had concluded that seabed mud had been pressed to
stone and raised skyward by forces not yet understood. What else
could geologists think, unless nature itself had lied?
They saw that fossil bones and shells differed from layer to
layer. They saw that shells in layers here matched
shells in layers there, though the layers might lie deep
beneath the land between. They named layers (A,B,C,D..., or
Osagian, Meramecian, Lower Chesterian, Upper Chesterian . . .),
and used characteristic fossils to trace rock layers. The
churning of Earth's crust has nowhere left a complete sequence of
layers exposed, yet geologists finding A,B,C,D,E in one place,
C,D,E,F,G,H,I,J in another and J,K,L somewhere else could see
that A preceded L. Petroleum geologists (even those who care
nothing for evolution or its implications) still use such fossils
to date rock layers and to trace layers from one drill site to
another.
Scientists came to the obvious conclusion. Just as sea species
today live in broad areas, so did species in years gone by. Just
as layer piles on top of layer today, so did they then. Similar
shells in similar layers mark sediments laid down in the same
age. Shells change from layer to layer because species changed
from age to age. This is what geologists found written in shells
and bones on pages of stone.
The uppermost layers of rock contain bones of recent animals,
deeper layers contain bones of animals now extinct. Still earlier
layers show no trace of any modern species. Below mammal bones
lie dinosaur bones; in older layers lie amphibian bones, then
shells and fish bones, and then no bones or shells at all. The
oldest fossil-bearing rocks bear the microscopic traces of single
cells.
Radioactive dating shows these oldest traces to be several
billion years old. Cells more complex than bacteria date to
little more than one billion years ago. The history of worms,
fish, amphibians, reptiles, and mammals spans hundreds of
millions of years. Human-like bones date back several million
years. The remains of civilizations date back several thousand.
In three billion years, life evolved from single cells able to
soak up chemicals to collections of cells embodying minds able to
soak up ideas. Within the last century, technology has evolved
from the steam locomotive and electric light to the spaceship and
the electronic computer - and computers are already being taught
to read and write. With mind and technology, the rate of
evolution has jumped a millionfold or more.
Another Route Back
The book of stone records the forms of long-dead organisms,
yet living cells also carry records, genetic texts only now being
read. As with the ideas of geology, the essential ideas of evolution were known
before Darwin had set pen to paper.
In lamp-lit temples and monasteries, generations of scribes
copied and recopied manuscripts. Sometimes they miscopied words
and sentences - whether by accident, by perversity, or by order
of the local ruler - and as the manuscripts replicated, aided by
these human copying machines, errors accumulated. The worst
errors might be caught and removed, and famous passages might
survive unchanged, but differences grew.
Ancient books seldom exist in their original versions. The oldest
copies are often centuries younger than the lost originals.
Nonetheless, from differing copies with differing errors,
scholars can reconstruct versions closer to the original.
They compare texts. They can trace lines of descent from common
ancestors because unique patterns of errors betray copying from a
common source. (Schoolteachers know this: identical right answers
aren't a tipoff - unless on an essay test - but woe to students
sitting side by side who turn in tests with identical mistakes!)
Where all surviving copies agree, scholars can assume that the
original copy (or at least the last shared ancestor of the
survivors) held the same words. Where survivors differ, scholars
study copies that descended separately from a distant ancestor,
because areas of agreement then indicate a common origin in the
ancestral version.
Genes resemble manuscripts written in a four-letter alphabet.
Much as a message can take many forms in ordinary language
(restating an idea using entirely different words is no great
strain), so different genetic wording can direct the construction
of identical protein molecules. Moreover, protein molecules with
different design details can serve identical functions. A
collection of genes in a cell is like a whole book, and genes -
like old manuscripts - have been copied and recopied by
inaccurate scribes.
Like scholars studying ancient texts, biologists generally work
with modern copies of their material (with, alas, no biological
Dead Sea Scrolls from the early days of life). They compare
organisms with similar appearances (lions and tigers, horses and
zebras, rats and mice) and find that they give similar answers to
the essay questions in their genes and proteins. The more two
organisms differ (lions and lizards, humans and sunflowers), the
more these answers differ, even among molecular machines serving
identical functions. More telling still, similar animals make the
same mistakes - all primates, for example, lack enzymes for
making vitamin C, an omission shared by only two other known
mammals, the guinea pig and the fruit bat. This suggests that we
primates have copied our genetic answers from a shared source,
long ago.
The same principle that shows the lines of descent of ancient
texts (and that helps correct their copying errors) thus also
reveals the lines of descent of modern life. Indeed, it indicates
that all known life shares a common ancestor.
The Rise of the Replicators
The first replicators on Earth evolved abilities beyond those
possible to RNA molecules replicating in test tubes. By the time
they reached the bacterial stage, they had developed the
"modern" system of using DNA, RNA, and ribosomes to
construct protein. Mutations then changed not only the
replicating DNA itself, but protein machines and the living
structures they build and shape.
Teams of genes shaped ever more elaborate cells, then guided the
cellular cooperation that formed complex organisms. Variation and
selection favored teams of genes that shaped beasts with
protective skins and hungry mouths, animated by nerve and muscle,
guided by eye and brain. As
Richard Dawkins puts it, genes built ever more elaborate
survival machines to aid their own replication.
When dog genes replicate, they often shuffle with those of other
dogs that have been selected by people, who then select which
puppies to keep and breed. Over the millennia, people have molded
wolf-like beasts into greyhounds, toy poodles, dachshunds, and
Saint Bernards. By selecting which genes survive, people have
reshaped dogs in both body and temperament. Human desires have
defined success for dog genes; other pressures have defined
success for wolf genes.
Mutation and selection of genes has, through long ages, filled
the world with grass and trees, with insects, fish, and people.
More recently, other things have appeared and multiplied - tools,
houses, aircraft, and computers. And like the lifeless RNA
molecules, this hardware has evolved.
Evolving Technology
As the stone of Earth records the emergence of ever more
complex and capable forms of life, so the relics and writings of
humanity record the emergence of ever more complex and capable
forms of hardware. Our oldest surviving hardware is itself stone,
buried with the fossils of our ancestors; our newest hardware
orbits overhead.
Consider for a moment the hybrid ancestry of the space shuttle.
On its aircraft side, it descends from the aluminum jets of the
sixties, which themselves sprang from a line stretching back
through the aluminum prop planes of World War II, to the
wood-and-cloth biplanes of World War I, to the motorized gliders
of the Wright brothers, to toy gliders and kites. On its rocket
side, the shuttle traces back to Moon rockets, to military
missiles, to last century's artillery rockets ("and the
rocket's red glare..."), and finally to fireworks and toys.
This aircraft/rocket hybrid flies, and by varying components and
designs, aerospace engineers will evolve still better ones.
Engineers speak of "generations" of technology; Japan's
"fifth generation" computer project shows how swiftly
some technologies grow and spawn. Engineers speak of
"hybrids," of "competing technologies," and
of their "proliferation." IBM Director of Research
Ralph E. Gomory emphasizes the evolutionary nature of technology,
writing that "technology development is much more
evolutionary and much less revolutionary or breakthrough-oriented
than most people imagine." (Indeed, even breakthroughs as
important as molecular assemblers will develop through many small
steps.) In the quote that heads this chapter, Professor
Herbert A. Simon of Carnegie-Mellon University urges us to
"think of the design process as involving first the
generation of alternatives and then the testing of these
alternatives against a whole array of requirements and
constraints." Generation and testing of alternatives is
synonymous with variation and selection.
Sometimes various alternatives already exist. In "One Highly
Evolved Toolbox," in The
Next Whole Earth Catalog, J. Baldwin writes: "Our
portable shop has been evolving for about twenty years now.
There's nothing really very special about it except that a
continuing process of removing obsolete or inadequate tools and
replacing them with more suitable ones has resulted in a
collection that has become a thing-making system rather than a
pile of hardware."
Baldwin uses the term "evolving" accurately. Invention
and manufacture have for millennia generated variations in tool
designs, and Baldwin has winnowed the current crop by competitive
selection, keeping those that work best with his other tools to
serve his needs. Through years of variation and selection, his
system evolved - a process he highly recommends. Indeed, he urges
that one never try to plan out the purchase of a complete set of
tools. Instead, he urges buying the tools one often borrows,
tools selected not by theory but by experience.
Technological variations are often deliberate, in the sense that
engineers are paid to invent and test. Still, some novelties are
sheer accident, like the discovery of a crude form of Teflon in a
cylinder supposedly full of tetrafluoroethylene gas: with its
valve open, it remained heavy; when it was sawed open, it
revealed a strange, waxy solid. Other novelties have come from
systematic blundering. Edison tried carbonizing everything from
paper to bamboo to spider webs when he was seeking a good
light-bulb filament. Charles
Goodyear messed around in a kitchen for years, trying to
convert gummy natural rubber into a durable substance, until at
last he chanced to drop sulfurized rubber on a hot stove,
performing the first crude vulcanization.
In engineering,
enlightened trial and error, not the planning of flawless
intellects, has brought most advances; this is why engineers
build prototypes. Peters and
Waterman in their book In Search of Excellence
show that the same holds true of advances in corporate products
and policies. This is why excellent companies create "an
environment and a set of attitudes that encourage
experimentation," and why they evolve "in a very
Darwinian way."
Factories bring order through variation and selection. Crude
quality-control systems test and discard faulty parts before
assembling products, and sophisticated quality-control systems
use statistical methods to track defects to their sources,
helping engineers change the manufacturing process to minimize
defects. Japanese engineers, building on W.
Edwards Deming's work in statistical quality control, have
made such variation and selection of industrial processes a
pillar of their country's economic success. Assembler-based
systems will likewise need to measure results to eliminate flaws.
Quality control is a sort of evolution, aiming not at change but
at eliminating harmful variations. But just as Darwinian
evolution can preserve and spread favorable mutations, so good
quality control systems can help managers and workers to preserve
and spread more effective processes, whether they appear by
accident or by design.
All this tinkering by engineers and manufacturers prepares
products for their ultimate test. Out in the market, endless
varieties of wrench, car, sock, and computer compete for the
favor of buyers. When informed buyers are free to choose,
products that do too little or cost too much eventually fail to
be re-produced. As in nature, competitive testing makes
yesterday's best competitor into tomorrow's fossil.
"Ecology" and "economy" share more than
linguistic roots.
Both in the marketplace and on real and imaginary battlefields,
global competition drives organizations to invent, buy, beg, and
steal ever more capable technologies. Some organizations compete
chiefly to serve people with superior goods, others compete
chiefly to intimidate them with superior weapons. The pressures
of evolution drive both.
The global technology race has been accelerating for billions of
years. The earthworm's blindness could not block the development
of sharp-eyed birds. The bird's small brain and clumsy wings
could not block the development of human hands, minds, and
shotguns. Likewise, local prohibitions cannot block advances in
military and commercial technology. It seems that we must guide
the technology race or die, yet the force of technological
evolution makes a mockery of anti-technology movements:
democratic movements for local restraint can only restrain the
world's democracies, not the world as a whole. The history of
life and the potential of new technology suggest some solutions,
but this is a matter for Part Three.
The Evolution of Design
It might seem that design offers an alternative to evolution,
but design involves evolution in two distinct ways. First, design
practice itself evolves. Not only do engineers accumulate designs
that work, they accumulate design methods that work. These range
from handbook standards for choosing pipes to management systems
for organizing research and development. And as Alfred North Whitehead stated,
"The greatest invention of the nineteenth century was the
invention of the method of invention."
Second, design itself proceeds by variation and selection,
Engineers often use mathematical laws evolved to describe (for
example) heat flow and elasticity to test simulated
designs before building them. They thus evolve plans through a
cycle of design, calculation, criticism, and redesign, avoiding
the expense of cutting metal. The creation of designs thus
proceeds through a nonmaterial form of evolution.
Hooke's law, for example, describes how metal bends and
stretches: deformation is proportional to the applied stress:
twice the pull, twice the stretch. Though only roughly correct,
it remains fairly accurate until the metal's springiness finally
yields to stress. Engineers can use a form of Hooke's law to
design a bar of metal that can support a load without bending too
far - and then make it just a bit thicker to allow for
inaccuracies in the law and in their design calculations. They
can also use a form of Hooke's law to describe the bending and
twisting of aircraft wings, tennis rackets, and automobile
frames. But simple mathematical equations don't wrap smoothly
around such convoluted structures. Engineers have to fit the
equations to simpler shapes (to pieces of the design), and then
assemble these partial solutions to describe the flexing of the
whole. It is a method (called "finite element
analysis") that typically requires immense calculations, and
without computers it would be impractical. With them, it has
grown common.
Such simulations extend an ancient trend. We have always imagined
consequences, in hope and fear, when we have needed to select a
course of action. Simpler mental models (whether inborn or
learned) undoubtedly guide animals as well. When based on
accurate mental models, thought experiments can replace more
costly (or even deadly) physical experiments - a development
evolution has favored. Engineering simulations simply extend this
ability to imagine consequences, to make our mistakes in thought
rather than deed.
In "One Highly Evolved Toolbox," J. Baldwin discusses
how tools and thought mesh in job-shop work: "You begin to
build your tool capability into the way you think about making
things. As anyone who makes a lot of stuff will tell you, the
tools soon become sort of an automatic part of the design process
. . . But tools can't become part of your design process if you
don't know what is available and what the various tools do."
Having a feel for tool capabilities is essential when planning a
jobshop project for delivery next Wednesday; it is equally
essential when shaping a strategy for handling the breakthroughs
of the coming decades. The better our feel for the future's
tools, the sounder will be our plans for surviving and
prospering.
A craftsman in a job shop can keep tools in plain sight; working
with them every day makes them familiar to his eyes, hands, and
mind. He gets to know their abilities naturally, and can put this
knowledge to immediate creative use. But people - like us - who
have to understand the future face a greater challenge, because
the future's tools exist now only as ideas and as possibilities
implicit in natural law. These tools neither hang on the wall nor
impress themselves on the mind through sight and sound and touch
- nor will they, until they exist as hardware. In the coming
years of preparation only
study, imagination, and thought can make their abilities real
to the mind.
What Are the New Replicators?
History shows us that hardware evolves. Test tube RNA,
viruses, and dogs all show how evolution proceeds by the
modification and testing of replicators. But hardware (today)
cannot reproduce itself - so where are the replicators behind the
evolution of technology? What are the machine genes?
Of course, we need not actually identify replicators in order to
recognize evolution. Darwin described evolution before Mendel
discovered genes, and geneticists learned much about heredity
before Watson
and Crick
discovered the structure of DNA. Darwin needed no knowledge of
molecular genetics to see that organisms varied and that some
left more descendants.
A replicator is a pattern that can get copies of itself made. It
may need help; without protein machines to copy it, DNA could not
replicate. But by this standard, some machines are
replicators! Companies often make machines that fall into the
hands of a competitor; the competitor then learns their secrets
and builds copies. Just as genes "use" protein machines
to replicate, so such machines "use" human minds and
hands to replicate. With nanocomputers directing assemblers and disassemblers, the
replication of hardware could even be automated.
The human mind, though, is a far subtler engine of imitation than
any mere protein machine or assembler. Voice, writing, and
drawing can transmit designs from mind to mind before they take
form as hardware. The ideas behind methods of design are subtler
yet: more abstract than hardware, they replicate and function
exclusively in the world of minds and symbol systems.
Where genes have evolved over generations and eons, mental
replicators now evolve over days and decades. Like genes, ideas
split, combine, and take multiple forms (genes can be transcribed
from DNA to RNA and back again; ideas can be translated from
language to language). Science
cannot yet describe the neural patterns that embody ideas in
brains, but anyone can see that ideas mutate, replicate, and
compete. Ideas evolve.
Richard Dawkins calls bits of
replicating mental patterns "memes" (meme rhymes with cream).
He says "examples of memes are tunes, ideas, catch-phrases,
clothes fashions, ways of making pots or of building arches. Just
as genes propagate themselves in the gene pool by leaping from
body to body [generation to generation] via sperms or eggs, so
memes propagate themselves in the meme pool by leaping from brain
to brain via a process which, in the broad sense, can be called
imitation."
The Creatures of the Mind
Memes replicate because people both learn and teach. They vary
because people create the new and misunderstand the old. They are
selected (in part) because people don't believe or repeat
everything they hear. As test tube RNA molecules compete for
scarce copying machines and subunits, so memes must compete for a
scarce resource - human attention and effort. Since memes shape
behavior, their success or failure is a deadly serious matter.
Since ancient times, mental models and patterns of behavior have
passed from parent to child. Meme patterns that aid survival and
reproduction have tended to spread. (Eat this root only after
cooking; don't eat those berries, their evil spirits will twist
your guts.) Year by year, people varied their actions with
varying results. Year by year, some died while others found new
tricks of survival and passed them on. Genes built brains skilled
at imitation because the patterns imitated were, on the whole, of
value - their bearers, after all, had survived to spread them.
Memes themselves, though, face their own matters of
"life" and "death": as replicators, they
evolve solely to survive and spread. Like viruses, they can
replicate without aiding their host's survival or well-being.
Indeed, the meme for martyrdom-in-a-cause can spread itself
through the very act of killing its host.
Genes, like memes, survive by many strategies. Some duck genes
have spread themselves by encouraging ducks to pair off to care
for their gene-bearing eggs and young. Some duck genes have
spread themselves (when in male ducks) by encouraging rape, and
some (when in female ducks) by encouraging the planting of eggs
in other ducks' nests. Still other genes found in ducks are virus
genes, able to spread without making more ducks. Protecting eggs
helps the duck species (and the individual duck genes) survive;
rape helps one set of duck genes at the expense of others;
infection helps viral genes at the expense of duck genes in
general. As Richard Dawkins points out, genes "care"
only about their own replication: they appear selfish.
But selfish motives can
encourage cooperation. People seeking money and recognition
for themselves cooperate to build corporations that serve other
people's wants. Selfish genes cooperate to build organisms that
themselves often cooperate. Even so, to imagine that genes automatically
serve some greater good ( - of their chromosome? - their cell? -
their body? - their species?) is to mistake a common effect for
an underlying cause. To ignore the selfishness of replicators is
to be lulled by a dangerous illusion.
Some genes in cells are out-and-out parasites. Like herpes genes
inserted in human chromosomes, they exploit cells and harm their
hosts. Yet if genes can be parasites, why not memes as well?
In The Extended
Phenotype, Richard Dawkins describes a worm that
parasitizes bees and completes its life cycle in water. It gets
from bee to water by making the host bee dive to its death.
Similarly, ant brainworms must enter a sheep to complete their
life cycle. To accomplish this, they burrow into the host ant's
brain, somehow causing changes that make the ant "want"
to climb to the top of a grass stem and wait, eventually to be
eaten by a sheep.
As worms enter other organisms and use them to survive and
replicate, so do memes. Indeed, the absence of memes
exploiting people for their own selfish ends would be amazing, a
sign of some powerful - indeed, nearly perfect - mental immune
system. But parasitic memes clearly do exist. Just as viruses
evolve to stimulate cells to make viruses, so rumors evolve to
sound plausible and juicy, stimulating repetition. Ask not
whether a rumor is true, ask instead how it spreads. Experience
shows that ideas evolved to be successful replicators need have
little to do with the truth.
At best, chain letters, spurious rumors, fashionable lunacies,
and other mental parasites harm people by wasting their time. At
worst, they implant deadly misconceptions. These meme systems
exploit human ignorance and vulnerability. Spreading them is like
having a cold and sneezing on a friend. Though some memes act
much like viruses, infectiousness isn't necessarily bad (think of
an infectious grin, or infectious good nature). If a package of
ideas has merit, then its infectiousness simply increases its
merit - and indeed, the best ethical teachings also teach us to
teach ethics. Good publications may entertain, enrich
understanding, aid judgment - and advertise gift subscriptions.
Spreading useful meme systems is like offering useful seeds to a
friend with a garden.
Selecting Ideas
Parasites have forced organisms to evolve immune systems, such
as the enzymes that bacteria use to cut up invading viruses, or
the roving white blood cells our bodies use to destroy bacteria.
Parasitic memes have forced minds down a similar path, evolving
meme systems that serve as mental immune systems.
The oldest and simplest mental immune system simply commands
"believe the old, reject the new." Something like this
system generally kept tribes from abandoning old, tested ways in
favor of wild new notions - such as the notion that obeying
alleged ghostly orders to destroy all the tribe's cattle and
grain would somehow bring forth a miraculous abundance of food
and armies of ancestors to drive out foreigners. (This meme package infected the
Xhosa people of southern Africa in 1856; by the next year
68,000 had died, chiefly of starvation.)
Your body's immune system follows a similar rule: it generally
accepts all the cell types present in early life and rejects new types such
as potential cancer cells and invading bacteria, as foreign and
dangerous. This simple reject-the-new system once worked well,
yet in this era of organ transplantation it can kill. Similarly,
in an era when science and technology regularly present facts
that are both new and trustworthy, a rigid mental immune system
becomes a dangerous handicap.
For all its shortcomings, though, the reject-the-new principle is
simple and offers real advantages. Tradition holds much that is
tried and true (or if not true, then at least workable). Change
is risky: just as most mutations are bad, so most new ideas are
wrong. Even reason can be dangerous: if a tradition links sound
practices to a fear of ghosts, then overconfident rational
thought may throw out the good with the bogus. Unfortunately,
traditions evolved to be good may have less appeal than
ideas evolved to sound good - when first questioned, the
soundest tradition may be displaced by worse ideas that better
appeal to the rational mind.
Yet memes that seal the mind against new ideas protect themselves
in a suspiciously self-serving way. While protecting valuable
traditions from clumsy editing, they may also shield parasitic
claptrap from the test of truth. In times of swift change they
can make minds dangerously rigid.
Much of the history of philosophy and science may be seen as a
search for better mental immune systems, for better ways to
reject the false, the worthless, and the damaging. The best
systems respect tradition, yet encourage experiment. They suggest
standards for judging memes, helping the mind distinguish between
parasites and tools.
The principles of evolution provide a way to view change, whether
in molecules, organisms, technologies, minds, or cultures. The
same basic questions keep arising: What are the replicators? How
do they vary? What determines their success? How do they defend
against invaders? These questions will arise again when we
consider the consequences of the assembler revolution, and yet
again when we consider how society might deal with those
consequences.
The deep-rooted principles of evolutionary change will shape the
development of nanotechnology, even as the distinction between
hardware and life begins to blur. These principles show much
about what we can and cannot hope to achieve, and they can help
us focus our efforts to shape the future. They also tell us much
about what we can and cannot foresee, because they guide the
evolution not only of hardware, but of knowledge itself.
© Copyright 1986, K. Eric Drexler, all rights reserved.
Original web version prepared and links added by Russell Whitaker.