In the January 25 issue of The New Yorker is a wonderful article of “fiction” by E.O. Wilson. I’ve written here before about Wilson, a preeminent writer-biologist who is quite likely the world’s leading expert on ants. His article in The New Yorker is “fiction,” only in the sense that he is describing the life of a hypothetical ant colony—how it began, how it thrived, and how it expired. It is a delightful story that pulls the reader into the heart of a prosperous community of 10,000 ants and the workings of its complex society.
Wilson describes how the queen of his imagined community flew from her birth colony, became inseminated, and initiated her own colony. She is the vital center of the community, which Wilson calls a “superorganism.” I have written before about the phenomenon of emergent intelligence (1/28/09 and 5/7/09) and how a tight-knit group of creatures exhibits intelligence far beyond what any one of them possesses—a kind of superorganism.
As I pondered Wilson’s story—titled “Trailhead”—I found myself thinking of his superorganism of ants, not as a collection of cooperating insects that achieves its remarkable feats, but as a specific being; like a frog, or a dog, or even a human being. I imagined the colony as an intelligent individual—one that encompasses all the discrete insects, much like our bodies encompass multitudes of cells, organisms, and organs. Our bodies are a cooperative collection of countless beasties, and so is an ant colony. So let me think of the colony as being a being. I’ll call her Ann.
Ann possesses essentially all the qualities of any intelligent creature. (I’m using the word intelligent here to mean the skillful accomplishment of complex tasks of living successfully—a much broader definition than just a measure of cerebral capability.) Ann was conceived at some point, was born, has thrived for 30 years (30!), and will someday perish—just like all critters. She forages for food, possesses a superb digestive system, defecates, and skillfully disposes of her wastes—often using it to fertilize her gardens. Ann’s immune system fights off disease and she successfully repels periodic invaders. As long as her multitudinous elements cooperate with one another and luck is with her, she lives a long and healthy life. Similarly, as long as our various organs work together and fortune smiles upon us, we stay healthy.
Ann inherently knows how to respond capably to varied circumstances. When food is plentiful she grows fat and robust. When provisions are lean she hunkers down and loses weight. Some of Ann’s components periodically sacrifice themselves to maintain her health—much as some of our white blood cells attack invasive bacteria and perish in the process. It’s all for one and one for all.
More on Ann’s qualities next time.
Monday, February 1, 2010
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