1. MUSCLES AND NERVES
IN Fig. 1 only a portion of the path for the diathesis is in
lifeless substance. Most of the relays connected in
cascade are situated between the craneman's brain and
his muscles. And this part is common to all paths for
diathesis under human control. Usually it is the only
part. Replace the craneman by a bricklayer and there
is still a path for diathesis. But the whole of the path is
between his brain and his hands. Man has learnt to
extend paths for diathesis beyond his body; he is, as is
often pointed out, a tool-using animal. But the number
of things that he does with his bare hands are still great
in comparison to those that he does with the help of
external relays. The basic, the typical, system of relays
in cascade remains the system to be found in living
substance. Let us examine this a little more closely.
Though physiologists have already discovered a vast
amount about this path, I do not propose to go into much
detail. I have noticed that in science problems remain
unsolved, more often because irrelevant facts have
attracted too much attention than because relevant ones
have remained undiscovered. The irrelevant facts lead
to irrelevant questions and in the search for answers to
these the original problem tends to be overlooked. And
for no problem is this more true than for the Problem
of Interaction, where, as I have said already, there is
such a deplorable tendency to hope that a solution will
pop out of some future discovery while scientists are
thinking about something else, and where it is only too
often forgotten that one will learn little if one does not
even trouble to think out what one wants to know. So
let us always remind ourselves, again and again, that the
important thing to do in this field is to find the relevant
questions and the most precise way of formulating them.
It will soon appear that a few meagre facts about the
path for the diathesis in living substance lead to some
very puzzling questions. If further known facts can provide
answers, these facts should be considered after the
questions have been asked and not before.
In immediate control of the small switches in the crane
cabin are the muscles of the craneman's right hand.
These muscles are the operating elements of the relay of
which the small switches are the controlled element.
Each muscle consists of a number of muscle fibres. The
energy to work them does not concern us. We know that
plenty is available in the surrounding tissues; and that
fact may suffice. The detailed sequence of the transformation that the energy undergoes before it appears as
the mechanical energy of muscular contraction would
make a long story anyhow.
In control of each muscle fibre is a minute device called
an endplate. This is the termination of a nerve fibril on
the muscle fibre. The endplate is quite a complicated
piece of mechanism, small though it is. It liberates a
chemical substance called acetylcholine; and it is thought
that this undergoes a chemical change (one authority
says that it detonates) in close proximity to the muscle
fibre when this is required to contract. Thus the combination of endplate and muscle fibre forms a relay. The
energy in the acetylcholine is the operating energy for
this relay and the energy expended by the muscle fibre
is the controlled energy. I am told that the operating
energy is much less than the controlled energy. So the
principle of tapering energy requirement is observed
here.
The detonation of the acetylcholine is, in turn, controlled by an impulse that arrives through the nerve
fibril, which is also called a neuraxon. The mechanism
of detonation is not fully understood and is not relevant
here. The detonating impulse may be an electric current,
for such current does flow in the neuraxon. But whatever
the impulse is, it arrives at the moment when the muscle
fibre is required to contract. And it brings with it the
operating energy for the detonation of the acetylcholine.
Thus the energy in this chemical substance is the controlled energy of the relay constituted by the combination
of neuraxon and endplate.
The neuraxon is a part of a nerve cell called a lower
motor neuron. The main body of this cell is in the spinal
chord, and this neuraxon is there in close contact with
another neuraxon. This latter one forms part of another
nerve cell called an upper motor neuron, the main body
of which is in the part of the brain known as the motor
cortex. The place where the two neuraxons are in contact
is called a synapse.
There are at least two good reasons for the suppositions
that a synapse conforms to our definition of a relay. The
first is that an impulse can travel through it in one
direction only. And this irreversibility has already been
mentioned as a characteristic feature of a relay. The
second reason is that an impulse may be delayed at a
synapse. And it is another characteristic of a relay that
it can be- so designed as to delay the passage of diathesis
through it. Many relays used in engineering are so
designed. It is indeed difficult to imagine how any
device that does not conform to our definition of a relay
could behave as a synapse does. So it is reasonable
to assume, and I think that most physiologists do assume,
that the operating energy of a synapse is distinct from its
controlled energy. Both are, of course, very small and
there is no difficulty in accounting for the necessary
supply from the surrounding tissues.
Whether there is any taper of energy requirement in a
synapse does not seem to be known. It is quite possible
that the operating energy that reaches the synapse through
the neuraxon of the upper motor neuron is of the same
order of magnitude as the controlled energy that is
supplied through the neuraxon of the lower motor neuron
to the endplate. Whether it is so or not is not relevant to
our present investigation.
There is a great number of synapses in the motor cortex
of the brain and they are interconnected by neuraxons
in the most complicated manner. But I do not propose
to discuss these complications here. If I did I should not
clarify the Problem of Control, I should only obscure it.
The complicated interconnections of synapses, the branches
and loops along which they lie, the spurs that join them
here and there to the efferent nervous systems may all
have to be studied some day by those who would solve the
Problem of Control, but they must not provide an excuse
for dodging the problem. Suffice it that many synapses
are in series, or as I would say, in cascade, along the path
of an impulse to a muscle fibre. Whether or not there be
taper of energy requirements between these, the energy
taken by the operating element of a synapse in the
cortex must be very minute. For a synapse is only a part
of a nerve cell and the number of nerve cells in the cortex
is prodigious. The operating element is again only a
part of a synapse. The energy required for its operation
must be minute indeed. This should be remembered by
those who naively suppose that our problem is to find the
source of the energy that works a path for diathesis.
Energy is needed, as for every physical process, but there
is no doubt as to its source. The tissues of the brain contain an ample store in chemical form.
2. INTENSITY OF DIATHESIS IN LIVING SUBSTANCE
All those features that I have mentioned above as a
measure of intensity of diathesis are more pronounced
for the part of the path that is within the body than for
the part outside it. The muscle fibres are very small in
comparison with the switches in the crane cabin. The
synapses are smaller still, as I have pointed out. If
intensity of diathesis increases with decreasing size of the
particles controlled, the diathesis is intense within the
body. And so it is if intensity of diathesis increases with
the precision with which the particles are placed. For in
such minute elements the latitude in positioning must be
small. And, finally, if timing and number of co-ordinated
operations is a measure of intensity of diathesis, the
intensity within the living body must be very great indeed.
For the number of individually controlled operations
must be enormous, as becomes apparent when one
considers more closely the way muscles work.
Merely to clasp the handle of one of his switches the
craneman must do many things. Just one of them is to
crook a finger. And this single performance calls many
muscles into play. There are muscles to raise the finger,
muscles to curve it, muscles to restrain and steady the
movement at each of its stages, muscles to prevent other
parts of the hand from making unwanted movements.
Each of these muscles must, at every moment, exert a
nicely graded effort. During the process of crooking a
finger any given muscle must pull a little harder at one
moment and relax a little at the next.
And this nice grading of effort calls for a stupendous
amount of co-ordination. The muscle consists of a bundle
of fibres and each of these works on the "all or nothing"
principle; it exerts either its full effort or none. When a
muscle pulls more strongly it is because a larger number
of its component fibres is contracting; and when it pulls
less strongly the number that is contracting is smaller.
So the simple act of crooking a finger requires that a vast
number of distinct muscle fibres in a vast number of
muscles shall each perform its function of contracting in
the correct sequence with accurate timing, with perfect
co-ordination. Here an "element of drill" does really
enter into the system.
And it is the same for every other part of the crane-man's body while he is clasping a switch handle. It is the
same for the muscles of his remaining fingers, for the
muscles in the palm of his hand, for those in his arm, for
those of his foot as he steps forward to reach a switch. If
the path for the diathesis that lies between the crane
cabin and the motors consists of some half dozen parallel
channels the path that lies between the craneman's brain
and his hand consists of millions. The imagination recoils
before the complexity of the drills performed by the
operating elements of all these synapses. What the audience
can see when a juggler is performing with a hat, a walking
stick and an egg is a crude operation compared with what
is happening out of sight inside the juggler's body. The
process of muscular contraction is clearly not one about
which one may think along anthropomorphic lines.
Top of Page