Reflections on Our Humanity Jack W. Love jwlove@cardiomend.com http://yjhm.yaleedu/essays/jlove20081211.htm Man is a fragile animal, a life form unique among all the multitude of living things on Earth, perhaps in our entire universe. From a physicians perspective, the fragility is striking, and a cause for a combination of humility, some humor, and great awe. Our fragility has a few specific anatomical locations. The small arteries that supply oxygen and nutrition to the heart and brain are susceptible to blockage, typically from aging but occasionally from other causes. Sudden occlusion of one of those arteries that may be only a few millimeters in diameter can result in death or severe and lasting disability. Another narrow channel sub ject to occlusion with potentially fatal or disabling consequences is the Aqueduct of Sylvius the tiny tubular path in the midbrain through which cerebrospinal fluid flows from the third to the fourth ventricle. The author has had personal near-death experience with acute occlusion of that fluid pathway from which he recovered after a bypass procedure known as a ventriculo-peritoneal shunt. Our fragility has other, non-anatomical aspects The conditions within which all men must live must make us humble on reflection. Consider that the conception and birth of each of us are programmed by hormones that dominate much of our lives. Consider that once born, we must be nurtured by others for a period that may amount to a quarter of our lives. Consider that we must shut down our senses and activities for a third of each day in sleep, that we are subject to diseases and injuries we may not always be able to cure or prevent, and that we are programmed for an inevitable death at a time we cannot kno We must eat and drink continually to stoke the metabolic fires. The food we eat requires, for most of us, that other living things must be killed and consumed. It seems to be a necessary condition of our existence of our staying alive. We kill to live, unless we are in the small number of people who are vegetarians. And the scientist who works in the animal laboratory knows that the extraction of know ledge from animal experimentation can have troubling aspects. But most of us feel that the end clearly justifies the means when it comes to treating and curing disease with knowledge gained from such experiment One thinks of
Reflections on Our Humanity Jack W. Love jwlove@cardiomend.com http://yjhm.yale.edu/essays/jlove20081211.htm Man is a fragile animal, a life form unique among all the multitude of living things on Earth, perhaps in our entire universe. From a physician’s perspective, the fragility is striking, and a cause for a combination of humility, some humor, and great awe. Our fragility has a few specific anatomical locations. The small arteries that supply oxygen and nutrition to the heart and brain are susceptible to blockage, typically from aging but occasionally from other causes. Sudden occlusion of one of those arteries that may be only a few millimeters in diameter can result in death or severe and lasting disability. Another narrow channel subject to occlusion with potentially fatal or disabling consequences is the Aqueduct of Sylvius, the tiny tubular path in the midbrain through which cerebrospinal fluid flows from the third to the fourth ventricle. The author has had a personal near-death experience with acute occlusion of that fluid pathway, from which he recovered after a bypass procedure known as a ventriculo-peritoneal shunt. Our fragility has other, non-anatomical aspects. The conditions within which all men must live must make us humble on reflection. Consider that the conception and birth of each of us are programmed by hormones that dominate much of our lives. Consider that once born, we must be nurtured by others for a period that may amount to a quarter of our lives. Consider that we must shut down our senses and activities for a third of each day in sleep, that we are subject to diseases and injuries we may not always be able to cure or prevent, and that we are programmed for an inevitable death at a time we cannot know. We must eat and drink continually to stoke the metabolic fires. The food we eat requires, for most of us, that other living things must be killed and consumed. It seems to be a necessary condition of our existence, of our staying alive. We kill to live, unless we are in the small number of people who are vegetarians. And the scientist who works in the animal laboratory knows that the extraction of knowledge from animal experimentation can have troubling aspects. But most of us feel that the end clearly justifies the means when it comes to treating and curing disease with knowledge gained from such experiments. One thinks of
cardiac surgery and organ transplantation as examples of treatments that could not have been developed without animal experimentation. There are many additional boundaries within which we must live. Our ambient temperature must be maintained within a very narrow band of the extant range. We must breathe oxygen continuously to sustain life; lack of it for a matter of minutes is fatal. We cannot ascend in altitude nor descend below sea level without apparatus to maintain our near sea level environment. Our body chemistry requires that components such as sodium, potassium, chloride, glucose, pH (the measure of acidity), and many others must be maintained within very narrow concentrations or ranges. Homeostasis is the word that describes the body's ability to maintain these acceptable ranges. Death can await violation of those boundaries And there is some humor as well as cause for humility in the conditions of our existence. We must excrete the waste products of our daily lives a reminder of our fragility. We must urinate several times each day we must defecate every day or so, and we must pass flatus. Part of being civilized" is to do these things privately. But do them we must whatever our station in life may be, from the most exalted to the most destitute among us. Who does not see cause for humility, and some humor n these necessary functions that bind us all? The thought of the mightiest among us passing noisy, malodorous emissions is enough to remind us that all the wealth and status in the world does not make us much different, as animals, from any of our fellow men, nor, for that matter from other forms of animal life And then there is the awe. Man, the animal, although sharing much common with all vertebrate animals, has a unique ability that differentiates him from all other living things that procreate, eat and drink, urinate and defecate and pass flatus, and move their limbs and bodies. He can think. And because he can think, he can conceptualize. He can build things and do things that no other life form can. He has taught himself to speak and to write. He has learned te manipulate his environment. As I write these words, I am listening to the Fifth Symphony of Beethoven. Music. An invention of man. And what a glorious invention! Man learned to appreciate pitch and rhythm, he developed musical notation, and he taught himself to make instruments to make musical sounds, and to sing. The symphony orchestra playing the Beethoven symphony has instruments made of metal and wood and animal tissues. The metals had to be mined from the earth the wood taken from trees that had to be felled, and the tissues taken from animals that had to be slaughtered. The instruments had to be crafted by men of great skill, and now played by men also of great, but different skill. And
cardiac surgery and organ transplantation as examples of treatments that could not have been developed without animal experimentation. There are many additional boundaries within which we must live. Our ambient temperature must be maintained within a very narrow band of the extant range. We must breathe oxygen continuously to sustain life; lack of it for a matter of minutes is fatal. We cannot ascend in altitude nor descend below sea level without apparatus to maintain our near sea level environment. Our body chemistry requires that components such as sodium, potassium, chloride, glucose, pH (the measure of acidity), and many others must be maintained within very narrow concentrations or ranges. Homeostasis is the word that describes the body’s ability to maintain these acceptable ranges. Death can await violation of those boundaries. And there is some humor as well as cause for humility in the conditions of our existence. We must excrete the waste products of our daily lives, a reminder of our fragility. We must urinate several times each day, we must defecate every day or so, and we must pass flatus. Part of being “civilized” is to do these things privately. But do them we must, whatever our station in life may be, from the most exalted to the most destitute among us. Who does not see cause for humility, and some humor in these necessary functions that bind us all? The thought of the mightiest among us passing noisy, malodorous emissions is enough to remind us that all the wealth and status in the world does not make us much different, as animals, from any of our fellow men, nor, for that matter, from other forms of animal life. And then there is the awe. Man, the animal, although sharing much in common with all vertebrate animals, has a unique ability that differentiates him from all other living things that procreate, eat and drink, urinate and defecate and pass flatus, and move their limbs and bodies. He can think. And because he can think, he can conceptualize. He can build things and do things that no other life form can. He has taught himself to speak and to write. He has learned to manipulate his environment. As I write these words, I am listening to the Fifth Symphony of Beethoven. Music. An invention of man. And what a glorious invention! Man learned to appreciate pitch and rhythm, he developed musical notation, and he taught himself to make instruments to make musical sounds, and to sing. The symphony orchestra playing the Beethoven symphony has instruments made of metal and wood and animal tissues. The metals had to be mined from the earth, the wood taken from trees that had to be felled, and the tissues taken from animals that had to be slaughtered. The instruments had to be crafted by men of great skill, and now played by men also of great, but different skill. And
now we enjoy the additional wonder of having the glorious sounds recorded, traced electronically on disks of plastic, and played with fidelity by machines most of us cannot hope to understand. Making and playing music is only one of many things man can do that inspire He can write prose and poetry that affect our emotions and our isions and how we act. He can design and build beautiful buildings and monuments. He has taught himself to build all sorts of things from materials that were first mined from the earth and later from materials that he learned to assemble in laboratories. He learned how to fly in the air, and then to travel beyond the atmosphere to the moon, and perhaps one day, beyond the moon. He learned how to descend to the oceans bottoms. These things are awe-inspiring There have been many individuals, often unlikely, who have inspired awe by doing things beyond our animal nature. A few examples make the point. Consider that the greatest of English language writers was a poorly educated, self-taught poet and playwright, William Shakespeare Consider that another uneducated and self-taught man became an unrivalled master of prose and something more, Abraham Lincoln. Consider that the founder of the science of genetics was an Augustinian monk who failed the examination to be certified as a high school science teacher, Gregor Mende l. Consider that aseptic surgery evolved from the theories of a scorned doctor in nineteenth century Vienna who lowered the risk of death from childbirth by urging attending physicians to wash their hands before participating in delivery, Ignaz Philipp Semme weiss. Consider that the men who first achieved powered flight were two self-educated bicycle mechanics working in Akron, Ohio, at the turn of the twentieth century, Orville and Wilbur Wright, and the man who showed the possibility of transoceanic flight was a college dropout, Charles lindbergh And man has developed a field of endeavor that seems to have no limits scientific exploration, what was once called natural philosophy. Ii only a few centuries, man has probed the smallest of the small, down to sub-atomic particles, and the largest of the large, outer space and the galaxies. Each time it appears that the smallest or the largest has been dentified, something smaller or larger is di ed. Along the exciting journey of scientific exploration, a few of our fellow men have emerged as anomalies, exceptional achievers. In this context, Isaac Newton comes to mind as perhaps the greatest anomaly of our species. Born in poverty in rural middle seventeenth century England after his father had died, then abandoned by his mother at age three when she remarried to a man who did not want the child, in solitude he grew to master the mathematics of his day and then to invent new mathematics the calculus, to solve the mysteries of planetary motion and other
now we enjoy the additional wonder of having the glorious sounds recorded, traced electronically on disks of plastic, and played with fidelity by machines most of us cannot hope to understand. Making and playing music is only one of many things man can do that inspire awe. He can write prose and poetry that affect our emotions and our decisions and how we act. He can design and build beautiful buildings and monuments. He has taught himself to build all sorts of things from materials that were first mined from the earth and later from materials that he learned to assemble in laboratories. He learned how to fly in the air, and then to travel beyond the atmosphere to the moon, and perhaps, one day, beyond the moon. He learned how to descend to the oceans’ bottoms. These things are awe-inspiring. There have been many individuals, often unlikely, who have inspired awe by doing things beyond our animal nature. A few examples make the point. Consider that the greatest of English language writers was a poorly educated, self-taught poet and playwright, William Shakespeare. Consider that another uneducated and self-taught man became an unrivalled master of prose and something more, Abraham Lincoln. Consider that the founder of the science of genetics was an Augustinian monk who failed the examination to be certified as a high school science teacher, Gregor Mendel. Consider that aseptic surgery evolved from the theories of a scorned doctor in nineteenth century Vienna who lowered the risk of death from childbirth by urging attending physicians to wash their hands before participating in delivery, Ignaz Philipp Semmelweiss. Consider that the men who first achieved powered flight were two self-educated bicycle mechanics working in Akron, Ohio, at the turn of the twentieth century, Orville and Wilbur Wright, and the man who showed the possibility of transoceanic flight was a college dropout, Charles Lindbergh. And man has developed a field of endeavor that seems to have no limits – scientific exploration, what was once called natural philosophy. In only a few centuries, man has probed the smallest of the small, down to sub-atomic particles, and the largest of the large, outer space and the galaxies. Each time it appears that the smallest or the largest has been identified, something smaller or larger is discovered. Along the exciting journey of scientific exploration, a few of our fellow men have emerged as anomalies, exceptional achievers. In this context, Isaac Newton comes to mind as perhaps the greatest anomaly of our species. Born in poverty in rural middle seventeenth century England after his father had died, then abandoned by his mother at age three when she remarried to a man who did not want the child, in solitude he grew to master the mathematics of his day and then to invent new mathematics, the calculus, to solve the mysteries of planetary motion and other
problems. He was a genius, arguably the greatest genius of all men before or since. He used his mind to explain much of our physical world. By pure thought, without any experimental evidence, he conceived the force of gravity, at age twenty-three. He did experiments to solve other questions, such as the nature of light, but his concept of gravity came from pure intellect, thinking at its grandest. It is recorded that Newton said before his death: " .I seem to have only been like a boy playing on the sea shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me. His profound humility stands n interesting juxtaposition to the arrogance of those scientists who are militant atheist Almost forgotten today is Newton's involvement with Biblical matters; he was an authority on the writings of St. John What did all of these men have in common? They used their ability to think and conceptualize extraordinary things. While most of us use our senses to see, to hear, to smell, to touch, and our ability to contract our muscles to move, all to the end of staying alive, enjoying pleasure and making ourselves as comfortable as possible, these men were driven by other goals not obviously part of our animal nature. Why does that happen? Why indeed?
problems. He was a genius, arguably the greatest genius of all men before or since. He used his mind to explain much of our physical world. By pure thought, without any experimental evidence, he conceived the force of gravity, at age twenty-three. He did experiments to solve other questions, such as the nature of light, but his concept of gravity came from pure intellect, thinking at its grandest. It is recorded that Newton said before his death: “…I seem to have only been like a boy playing on the sea shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.” His profound humility stands in interesting juxtaposition to the arrogance of those scientists who are militant atheists. Almost forgotten today is Newton’s involvement with Biblical matters; he was an authority on the writings of St. John. What did all of these men have in common? They used their ability to think and conceptualize extraordinary things. While most of us use our senses to see, to hear, to smell, to touch, and our ability to contract our muscles to move, all to the end of staying alive, enjoying pleasure, and making ourselves as comfortable as possible, these men were driven by other goals not obviously part of our animal nature. Why does that happen? Why indeed?
