Better than natural

Animal life as we know it has evolved a lot, starting with the change from non-nucleated unicellular organisms (prokaryotes) to nucleated ones (eukaryotes) and then on to multicellular organisms and to the vertebrates with which we are now so familiar. Each step built upon the previous one, retaining a lot of useful biological processes but also replacing those who did not turn out so well, while at the same time finding a way to coordinate the old ones with the new and all together so that they can cooperate to try to ensure the survival of the individuals. Fortunately, evolution has had more than 2 billion years and many generations of many different species to try out the different combinations and find the lucky one that did work.

The surprising fact is that the big majority of these processes happen in a absolutely automatic way: the activity of any cell is a purely mechanical response to the chemical situations inside and outside the cell itself, there is no decision-making process to determine if it is time to produce a certain chemical or to undergo mitosis (cellular division). In the case of the most primitive animals, such as insects and molluscs the situation is not much better: they have a very primitive nervous system composed of just a few cells acts as a coordinator to ensure that different organs of the animal work in the same direction, but when a clam opens up to catch some plankton it does not so because it wants to, but because it is programmed to do so.

Photo: 7998746 on Pixabay

Even among the primates, with our sizeable brains and well developed cognitive capabilities, there are countless functions that happen in an autonomous way: we do not have to think about it to sweat when we are hot, feel thirst or hunger after a long fast, speed up our heart rate when scared, contract our pupils in a bright light or raise our hair in goosebumps when we feel a cold draft. In fact all of these effects happen in spite of our will and not thanks to it, just because they are too critical for our survival to rely on our will, so evolution has programmed this functions to happen automatically.

But there is also a big host of actions that, although they are primarily automatic, they can be affected by our brain activity, like stretch our leg under the knee-jerk reflex: we can choose to suppress the movement, but the default response is always there in case we do not have the mental resources (or the will) to override it. The same happens to different degrees with other automatic responses, like removing your hand after a very minor electric shock, yawning, sneezing, coughing, burping, or even feeling ticklish. These movements can be suppressed more or less easily depending on a number of factors, including the intensity of the cause and our level of awareness: if you choke on a small sip of coffee and you are quick to react it is possible not to cough or to delay the cough long enough that you have a chance to cover your mouth; but if the choking is more severe you will not stand a chance and the reflex will kick in in full force and with no regard for the situation. But these responses can be trained, sometimes with amazing results.

When Trevor was about seven or eight years old he got tired of being tickled all the time by Jason, who had a significant physical advantage over him, so one day he decided he would not be ticklish anymore. For some people the reaction is impossible to suppress, but he had discovered that, if he relaxed and kept his mind focused, he could resist the tickling without breaking out to laugh (which obviously discouraged the tickling). For many months I kept coming at him to try to tickle him, and all I could get is a brief jerk for a tenth of a second, but then he quickly fell into his "zen" mode and I was unable to get any additional reaction from him. Of course, this requires a good start: Jason, who gets much more excited in such a situation, is absolutely incapable of controlling the tickles and is immediately engulfed by his automatic reactions in spite of his best effort.

Back in 2008 a Japanese advertising agency launched this commercial where a woman was trying to beat the world record for non-blinking, which requires here to keep here eyes open even in difficult situations like almost being run over by a bicycle (safe, 5 mm open) or sneezing after peppering her pasta (safe, 2 mm open). However after all the lucky saves, as she sits to have the afternoon tea with the counter above 23 hours, she eats a piece of chocolate so delicious that she has to close her eyes to enjoy it and the clock stops, off course. This is a pure theatrical exaggeration because, although there is no official record, the longest reported instance is slightly over 75 minutes, which is still a remarkable feat considering that we typically blink between 12 and 15 times per minute.

An example of automatic behavior that I have learned to override is the coordinated movement of the fingers. For most people the dexterity in the hands is focused on the index finger and the thumb, which can normally be controlled independently of one another or alongside the rest of the fingers for a firm grip. The middle finger also retains some independence, although it is rarely moved alone, and the finger and pinky finger are very hard to move unless you close your whole hand to a fist. Even lateral movements are hard: the famed Vulcan salute from Star Trek, holding your hand in a vertical position, with the palm facing forward, and the ring and pinky fingers separated from the index and middle finger, is a difficult maneuver for many people, that requires some amount of training. In my case, touch-typing on the keyboard of my computer means that I have to be able to press the keys with the corresponding fingers without moving the others. This required a very strong training on the pinky, that insisted to drag the ring finger behind it for many weeks.

Is this better than the natural movement? I cannot judge in absolute terms, but developing this "unnatural" behavior has served me well in my programming endeavors. It is possible that in a wilder environment the independence of my fingers could have led me to have them broken or lost, but luckily that is not the case anymore, so I can be happy to have been able to overcome this natural impulse. Do you have an unusual ability yourself? Or are you perhaps interested in acquiring one? In any case, I hope you have a very nice weekend.