Statistically, the probability of any one of us being here is so small
that you'd think the mere fact of existing would keep us all in a
contented dazzlement of surprise. We are alive against the stupendous
odds of genetics, infinitely outnumbered by all the alternates who
might, except for luck, be in our places.
Even more astounding is our
statistical improbability in physical terms. The normal, predictable
state of matter throughout the universe is randomness, a relaxed sort of
equilibrium, with atoms and their particles scattered around in an
amorphous muddle. We, in brilliant contrast, are completely organized
structures, squirming with information at every covalent bond. We make
our living by catching electrons at the moment of their excitement by
solar photons, swiping the energy released at the instant of each jump
and storing it up in intricate loops for ourselves.
We violate
probability, by our nature. To be able to do this systematically, and in
such wild varieties of form, from viruses to whales, is extremely
unlikely; to have sustained the effort successfully for the several
billion years of our existence, without drifting back into randomness,
was nearly a mathematical impossibility.
Add to this the biological
improbability that makes each member of our own species unique. Everyone
is one in 3 billion at the moment, which describes the odds. Each of us
is a self-contained, free-standing individual, labeled by specific
protein configurations at the surfaces of cells, identifiable by whorls
of fingertip skin, maybe even by special medleys of fragrance. You'd
think we'd never stop dancing.
Lewis Thomas,The Lives of a Cell: Notes of a Biology Watcher
2 comments:
Here's to the dance of life!
This is so, so wonderful! Thank you.
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