* The oft-raised question why these advanced civilizations do not
communicate with us lies outside the scope of this book; the
reader will find a few remarks and bibliographical references on
the subject in Appendix IV.
4
I shall conclude this book with a kind of credo, the origin of which
dates some forty years back, to the Spanish Civil War. In 1937 I spent
several months in the Nationalists' prison in Seville, as a suspected
spy, threatened with execution.
[14]
During that period, in
solitary confinement, I had some experiences which seemed to me close
to the mystics' 'oceanic feeling' and which I subsequently tried to
describe in an autobiographical account.* I called those experiences
'the hours by the window'. The extract which follows, though rather
loosely formulated, reflects what one may call 'an agnostic's credo':
The 'hours by the window' had filled me with a direct certainty that a
higher order of reality existed, and that it alone invested existence
with meaning. I came to call it later on 'the reality of the third
order'. The narrow world of sensory perception constituted the first
order; this perceptual world was enveloped by the conceptual world
which contained phenomena not directly perceivable, such as atoms,
electromagnetic fields or curved space. This second order of reality
filled in the gaps and gave meaning to the absurd patchiness of the
sensory world.
In the same manner, the third order of reality enveloped,
interpenetrated, and gave meaning to the second. It contained 'occult'
phenomena which could not be apprehended or explained either on the
sensory or on the conceptual level, and yet occasionally invaded them
like spiritual meteors piercing the primitive's vaulted sky. Just as
the conceptual order showed up the illusions and distortions of the
senses, so the 'third order' revealed that time, space and causality,
that the isolation, separateness and spatio-temporal limitations of
the self were merely optical illusions on the next higher level. If
illusions of the first type were taken at face value, then the sun
was drowning every night in the sea, and a mote in the eye was larger
than the moon; and if the conceptual world was mistaken for ultimate
reality, the world became an equally absurd tale, told by an idiot
or by idiot-electrons which caused little children to be run over
by motor cars, and little Andalusian peasants to be shot through
heart, mouth and eyes, without rhyme or reason. Just as one could
not feel the pull of a magnet with one's skin, so one could not hope
to grasp in cognate terms the nature of ultimate reality. It was
a text written in invisible ink; and though one could not read it,
the knowledge that it existed was sufficient to alter the texture
of one's existence, and make one's actions conform to the text.
I liked to spin out this metaphor. The captain of a ship sets out
with a sealed order in his pocket which he is only permitted to open
on the high seas. He looks forward to that moment which will end all
uncertainty; but when the moment arrives and he tears the envelope
open, he finds only an invisible text which defies all attempts at
chemical treatment. Now and then a word becomes visible, or a figure
denoting a meridian; then it fades again. He will never know the exact
wording of the order; nor whether he has complied with it or failed
in his mission. But his awareness of the order in his pocket, even
though it cannot be deciphered, makes him think and act differently
from the captain of a pleasure-cruiser or of a pirate ship.
I also liked to think that the founders of religions, prophets,
saints and seers had at moments been able to read a fragment of the
invisible text; after which they had so much padded, dramatized and
ornamented it, that they themselves could no longer tell what parts
of it were authentic.
* The Invisible Writing (written in 1953).
APPENDICES
APPENDIX I
BEYOND ATOMISM AND HOLISM -- THE CONCEPT OF THE HOLON *
* This edited version of a paper read at the Beyond Reductionism
Symposium at Alpbach, 1968 [3], is intended as a summary of Part
One, 'Outline of a System' (Chapters I-V). Unavoidably some passages
are repetitive, others rather technical. The general reader can
safely skip Appendices I - III.
This is going to be an exercise in General Systems Theory -- which seems
to be all the more appropriate as Ludwig von Bertalanffy, its founding
father, sits next to me. It seems equally appropriate that I should take
as my text a sentence from Ludwig's
Problems of Life
[1]
;
it reads: 'Hierarchical organization on the one hand, and the
characteristics of open systems on the other, are fundamental principles
of living nature.'
If we combine these two fundamental principles, and add a dash of cybernetics
to them, we get a system-theoretical model of Self-regulating Open Hierarchic
Order, or SOHO for short. I intend to discuss some of the properties of this
SOHO model as an alternative to the S-R model of linear causation, derived
from classical mechanics, which we seem to be unanimous in rejecting. I can
only give here a sketchy outline of the idea, but I have tried to tabulate
the axioms and propositions relating to it in a more systematic way in
an appendix to my last book,
[2]
which I have also appended
to this paper, as a sort of
Tractatus Logico Hierarchicus
. Some
of these propositions may appear trivial, others rest on incomplete
evidence, still others will need correcting or qualifying. But they may
provide a basis for discussion.
HIERARCHIES AND OLD HATS
When one talks about hierarchic organization as a fundamental principle
of life, one often encounters a strong emotional resistance. For one
thing, hierarchy is an ugly word, loaded with ecclesiastic and military
associations, and conveys to some people a wrong impression of a rigid
or authoritarian structure. (Perhaps the assonance with 'hieratic', which
is a quite different matter, plays a part in this confusion.) Apart from
this, the term is often wrongly used to refer simply to order of rank on a
linear scale or ladder (e.g. Clark Hull's 'habit-family hierarchies'). But
that is not at all what the term is meant to signify. Its correct symbol
is not a rigid ladder but a living tree -- a multi-levelled, stratified,
out-branching pattern of organization, a system branching into sub-systems,
which branch into sub-systems of a lower order, and so on; a structure
encapsulating sub-structures and so on; a process activating sub-processes
and so on. As Paul Weiss said yesterday: 'The phenomenon of hierarchic
structure is a real one, presented to us by the biological object, and not
the fiction of a speculative mind.' It is at the same time a conceptual
tool, a way of thinking, an alternative to the linear chaining of events
torn from their multidimensionally stratified contexts.
All complex structures and processes of a relatively stable character
display hierarchic organization, and this applies regardless whether we
are considering inanimate systems, living organisms, social organizations,
or patterns of behaviour. The linguist who thinks primarily in
terms of Chomsky's
[4]
hierarchic model experiences a
déjà vu
reaction -- as McNeill expressed it --
towards the physiologist's intracellular hierarchy; and this may equally
apply to Bruner's presentation of the hierarchic structure of voluntary
action. In this essential respect -- and in others that I shall mention
-- these processes in widely different fields are indeed isomorphic. The
hierarchic tree diagram may serve equally well to represent the branching
out of the evolution of species -- the tree of life and its projection
in taxonomy; it serves to represent the step-wise differentiation of
tissues in embryonic development; it may serve as a structural diagram
of the parts-within-parts architecture of organisms or galaxies, or as
a functional schema for the analysis of instinctive behaviour by the
ethologist;
[5]
or of the phrase-generating machinery by
the psycholinguist. It may represent the locomotor hierarchy of limbs,
joints, individual muscles, and so down to fibres, fibrils and filaments;
[6]
or, in reverse direction, the filtering and processing
of the sensory input in its ascent from periphery to centre. It could
also be regarded as a model for the subject-index of the Library of
Congress, and for the organization of knowledge in our memory-stores;
as an organizational chart for government administrations, military and
business organizations; and so on.
This almost universal applicability of the hierarchic model may arouse the
suspicion that it is logically empty; and this may be a further factor
in the resistance against it. It usually takes the form of what one may
call the 'so what' reaction: 'all this is old hat, it is self-evident' --
followed by the non sequitur 'and anyway, where is your evidence?' Well,
hierarchy may be old hat, but I would suggest that if you handle it with
some affection, it can produce quite a few lively rabbits.
EVOLUTION AND HIERARCHIC ORDER
One of my favourite examples to illustrate the merits of hierarchic order
is an amusing parable invented by Herbert Simon -- whose absence we all
regret. I have quoted it on other occasions, but I shall briefly quote
it again. The parable concerns two watchmakers, Hora and Tempus. Both
make watches consisting of a thousand parts each. Hora assembles his
watches bit by bit; so when he pauses or drops a watch before it is
finished, it falls to pieces and he has to start from scratch. Tempus,
on the other hand, puts together sub-assemblies of ten parts each; ten
of these sub-assemblies he makes into a larger sub-assembly of a hundred
units; and ten of these make the whole watch. If there is a disturbance,
Tempus has to repeat at worst nine assembling operations, and at best none
at all. If you have a ratio of one disturbance in a hundred operations,
then Hora will take four thousand times longer to assemble a watch --
instead of one day, he will take eleven years. And if, for mechanical
bits, we substitute amino-acids, protein molecules, organelles, and so
on, the ratio between the time-scales becomes astronomical.
This is one basic advantage of employing the hierarchic method. The second
is, of course, the incomparably greater stability and resilience to shock
of the Tempus type of watch, and its amenability to repair and improvement.
Simon concludes:
Complex systems will evolve from simple systems much more rapidly
if there are stable intermediate forms than if there are not. The
resulting complex forms in the former case will be hierarchic. We have
only to turn the argument round to explain the observed predominance
of hierarchies among the complex systems Nature presents to us. Among
possible complex forms, hierarchies are the ones that had the time
to evolve. [7]
If there is life on other planets, we may safely assume that, whatever
its form, it must be hierarchically organized.
Motor manufacturers discovered long ago that it does not pay to design a
new model from scratch by starting on the level of elementary components;
they make use of already existing sub-assemblies -- engines, brakes,
etc. -- each of which has developed from long previous experience,
and then proceed by relatively small modifications of some of these.
Evolution follows the same strategy. Once it has taken out a patent
it sticks to it tenaciously -- Thorpe remarked yesterday on its fixed
conservative ways. The patented structure, organ or device acquires
a kind of autonomous existence as a sub-assembly. The same make of
organelles functions in the cells of mice and men; the same make of
contractile protein serves the streaming motion of amoeba and the finger
muscles of the piano-player; the same homologous design is maintained
in the vertebrate forelimb of man, dog, bird and whale. Geoffroy de St
Hilaire's
loi du balancement
, and d'Arcy Thompson's
[8]
transformation of a baboon's skull into a human skull by harmonious
deformations of a Cartesian coordinate lattice, further illustrate the
hierarchic constraints imposed on evolutionary design.
AUTONOMOUS HOLONS
The evolutionary stability of these sub-assemblies -- organelles, organs,
organ-systems -- is reflected by their remarkable degree of
autonomy
or self-government. Each of them -- a piece of tissue or a whole heart
-- is capable of functioning in vitro as a quasi-independent whole,
even though isolated from the organism or transplanted into another
organism. Each is a
sub-whole
which, towards its subordinated parts,
behaves as a self-contained whole, and towards its superior controls as
a dependent part. This relativity of the terms 'part' and 'whole' when
applied to any of its sub-assemblies is a further general characteristic
of hierarchies.
It is again the very obviousness of this feature which tends to make
us overlook its implications. A part, as we generally use the word,
means something fragmentary and incomplete, which by itself would have
no legitimate existence. On the other hand, there is a tendency among
holists to use the word 'whole' or 'Gestalt' as something complete in
itself which needs no further explanation. But wholes and parts in this
absolute sense do not exist anywhere, either in the domain of living
organisms or of social organizations. What we find are intermediary
structures on a series of levels in ascending order of complexity, each
of which has two faces looking in opposite directions: the face turned
toward the lower levels is that of an autonomous whole, the one turned
upward that of a dependent part. I have elsewhere