Philip Bethge

Tag: anthropology

  • Interview mit Jane Goodall: “Ö-hö-hö-hö-hö-hö”

    Jane Goodall beobachtete jahrelang wilde Schimpansen. Sie entdeckte, dass die Tiere morden und Krieg führen. Als Ökoaktivistin hat die Britin inzwischen mehr mit Menschen zu tun – und glaubt immer noch an das Gute in uns.

    Von Philip Bethge und Johann Grolle

    Als Kind las Goodall gern die Geschichten über den Arzt Doktor Dolittle; sie entfachten ihre Liebe zur wilden Kreatur. Mit 23 brach sie nach Afrika auf, lernte dort den Paläoanthropologen Louis Leakey kennen und studierte in dessen Auftrag die Schimpansen des Gombe-Stream-Schutzgebiets in Tansania. Goodall beobachtete erstmals Werkzeuggebrauch und Kriegsführung bei den engsten Menschenverwandten und wurde dadurch zur berühmtesten Primatenforscherin der Welt. 1986 veröffentlichte sie ihr Hauptwerk, “The Chimpanzees of Gombe. Patterns of Behavior”. Kurz darauf ließ sie die Forschung hinter sich, um ihr Leben ganz dem Schutz der Schimpansen und der Erhaltung der Natur zu widmen. Als Öko-Kämpferin zieht Goodall heute an 300 Tagen im Jahr um den Globus. Das Jugendprogramm “Roots & Shoots” des Jane Goodall Institute findet in mehr als 130 Ländern statt. Die 81-jährige Britin ist Friedensbotschafterin der Vereinten Nationen und trägt den Orden “Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire”. Seit mehr als 20 Jahren, sagt sie, habe sie nicht länger als drei Wochen im selben Bett geschlafen.

    SPIEGEL: Dr. Goodall, in der ersten Hälfte Ihres beruflichen Lebens befassten Sie sich mit Schimpansen, in der zweiten mit Menschen. Hat Ihnen Ihr Wissen über die einen beim Umgang mit den anderen geholfen?

    Goodall: Ich glaube schon. Bei den Schimpansen habe ich viel über nonverbale Kommunikation gelernt. Was uns von ihnen unterscheidet, ist nämlich vor allem, dass sie keine Wörter kennen. Alles andere ist fast gleich: Küssen, Umarmen, Prahlen, Fäusteschütteln. All das habe ich bei den Schimpansen studiert – was mich befähigt, auch Menschen gut zu verstehen. Wenn Sie zum Beispiel jemanden ertappen, wie er einen Fehler macht, zuckt er zusammen und windet sich. Er wird Ihnen dann nicht mehr zuhören, sondern nur überlegen, wie er zum Gegenangriff übergehen kann. Um jemanden wirklich zu überzeugen, müssen Sie sein Herz erreichen.

    SPIEGEL: Wie das?

    Goodall: Ich erinnere mich zum Beispiel an ein Treffen mit dem chinesischen Umweltminister. Ich wollte ihn dazu bringen, unser Jugendprogramm Roots & Shoots in chinesischen Schulen zuzulassen. Aber er sprach kein Englisch, und so saßen wir da, zwischen uns ein Übersetzer, und ich hatte nur zehn Minuten Zeit. Also nahm ich all meinen Mut zusammen und sagte: “Wäre ich ein weiblicher Schimpanse, dann wäre ich sehr töricht, wenn ich ein hochrangiges Männchen nicht untertänig begrüßen würde”, und ich machte unterwürfig: “Ö-hö-hö-hö-hö-hö.” Das Männchen, so sagte ich weiter, müsse nun das Weibchen großmütig streicheln, und dabei nahm ich seine Hand. Ich merkte, wie sie sich verkrampfte, aber ich gab nicht auf und führte seine Hand auf meinen Kopf. Erst war es totenstill, aber dann begann er zu lachen. Am Ende redeten wir anderthalb Stunden lang, und seither gibt es Roots & Shoots an chinesischen Schulen.

    SPIEGEL: Sie sind hier in New York, um auf dem Nachhaltigkeitsgipfel der Uno aufzutreten. Was geschieht, wenn so viele hochrangige Männchen zusammenkommen?

    Goodall: Vor allem: zu viel Gerede. Ich will nicht behaupten, solche Gipfel seien pure Zeitverschwendung, aber ihre Ergebnisse sind meist enttäuschend.

    SPIEGEL: Vielleicht ist der Mensch, von Natur aus eigennützig und auf kurzfristigen Nutzen bedacht, nicht geschaffen, um die Probleme des Planeten zu lösen?

    Goodall: Das müssen wir aber. Wir haben uns von der Natur abgewandt. Stattdessen geht es nur um Geld und Macht. Wir müssen wieder zurück zur Natur finden, um diesen Planeten zu retten.

    SPIEGEL: Wenn die Idee der Nachhaltigkeit aber unserer Natur zuwiderläuft?

    Goodall: Das tut sie ja gar nicht. Selbst Schimpansen verstehen diese Idee. In einem Baum voller Früchte pflücken sie nur diejenigen, die reif sind. Die anderen lassen sie hängen. Das ist nichts anderes als Nachhaltigkeit.

    SPIEGEL: Ein anderes politisches Thema, das uns derzeit in Europa umtreibt, ist die Flüchtlingskrise. Was sagen Sie als Primatologin: Liegt es in unserer Natur, Fremde willkommen zu heißen?

    Goodall: Nein. Primaten sind sehr territorial. Es entspricht ihrer Natur, ihre Nahrungsressourcen, Weibchen und Jungtiere zu schützen. Das erklärt …..

    —> Weiterlesen auf Spiegel.de

  • Jane Goodall Interview: ‘Even Chimps Understand Sustainability’

    Interview Conducted by Philip Bethge and Johann Grolle

    Jane Goodall spent years observing chimpazees in the wild. She discovered that the animals can commit murder and wage war. As an environmentalist, the British activist now spends more time observing humans — and says she still has hope for humanity.

    As a child, one of Jane Goodall’s favorite books was “Doctor Dolittle,” which helped to unleash her love for wild creatures. At the age of 23, she traveled to Africa, where she met archeologist and paleontologist Louis Leakey, who would hire her as an assistant and later ask her to study chimpanzees in the Gombe Stream National Park in Tanzania. Goodall was the first to observe the use of tools and also the kind of warfare conducted by the species closest related to humans. Through her research, Goodall rose to become the world’s most famous primate researcher. She published her main body of work, “The Chimpanzees of Gombe: Patterns of Behavior,” in 1986. A short time later, she left scientific research behind in order to dedicate her life to the protection of chimpanzees and nature conservation. Goodall travels around the world 300 days a year as part of her efforts as a champion of the environment. The Jane Goodall Institute’s Roots & Shoots youth program is active in more than 130 countries. The 81-year-old Briton is also a United Nations Messenger of Peace and carries the title of Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire. She’s been so busy over the past 20 years, she says, that she hasn’t even managed to sleep in the same bed for more than three weeks at a time.

    In an interview with SPIEGEL, the doyenne of chimpanzee research discusses the often minor differences between humans and apes.

    SPIEGEL: Dr. Goodall, the first half of your professional life, you dealt with chimps. During the second half, you have been dealing with humans. Is there anything you learned from chimps that helps you in dealing with people?

    Goodall: I believe so. The chimpanzees taught me a lot about nonverbal communication. The big difference between them and us is that they don’t have spoken language. Everything else is almost the same: Kissing, embracing, swaggering, shaking the fist. I studied those things a lot in chimps, and I suppose that’s why I’m quite good at reading people. For example, if you catch somebody doing something wrong, he will just cringe away and curl up. He will not listen anymore. Instead, he will think of how he can counterattack. So the only possible way to get somebody to change is to reach into their hearts.

    SPIEGEL: How?

    Goodall: I remember once meeting the Chinese environment minister. I wanted to convince him to allow our Roots and Shoots program into Chinese schools. However, he spoke no English, and so now here we were, just sitting, a translator between us, and I had only 10 minutes time. So I gathered my courage and started off saying, …….

    –> Continue reading at DER SPIEGEL International

  • The Second Cooing: Raising Passenger Pigeons from the Dead

    The Second Cooing: Raising Passenger Pigeons from the Dead

    The world has been without passenger pigeons since 1914. Now, scientists want to bring them back. Geneticist Ben Novak has embarked on the project and has begun collecting passenger pigeon DNA from natural history museums. His “de-extinction” efforts are not without critics.

    By Philip Bethge

    The eye sockets of the slender pigeon are filled with light-colored cotton. Its neck feathers shimmer in iridescent colors, and it has a russet chest and a slate-blue head. The yellowed paper tag attached to its left leg reads: “Coll. by Capt. Frank Goss, Neosho Falls, Kansas, July 4, 1875.”

    Ben Novak lifts up the stuffed bird to study the tag more closely. Then he returns the pigeon to a group of 11 other specimens of the same species, which are resting on their backs in a wooden drawer. “It’s easy to see just dead birds,” he says. “But imagine them alive, billions of birds. What would they look like in the sky?”

    Novak has an audacious plan. He wants to resurrect the passenger pigeon. Vast numbers of the birds once filled the skies over North America. But in 1914 Martha, the last of her species, died in a zoo in Cincinnati, Ohio.

    Novak, a researcher with the Long Now Foundation, a California think tank, wants to give the species a second chance. At the Museum of Vertebrate Zoology in Berkeley, Novak used a scalpel to slice small tissue samples from the red-painted toes of the passenger pigeons kept there. He hopes to isolate tiny bits of DNA from the samples and use them to assemble an entire genotype. His ultimate goal is the resurrection of the passenger pigeon.

    “It should be possible to reconstruct the entire genome of the passenger pigeon,” says Novak. “The species is one of the most promising candidates for reintroducing an extinct species.”

    The art of breathing new life into long-extinct species is in vogue among biologists. The Tasmanian devil, the wooly rhinoceros, the mammoth, the dodo and the gastric-breeding frog are all on the list of candidates for revival. To recover the genetic makeup of species, experts cut pieces of tissue from stuffed zoological rarities, pulverize pieces of bone or search in the freezers of their institutions for samples of extinct animals.

    The Dream of “De-Extinction”

    The laboratory techniques to create new life with bits of genetic material were pure fantasy in the past. But now scientists believe that the vision could become reality, step by step. Experts in bioengineering, zoologists, ethicists and conservationists recently met in Washington, DC for a public forum on “de-extinction.”

    “Extinct animals are the most endangered species of them all” because “there is hardly anything left but the DNA,” says Stewart Brand of the Long Now Foundation, which co-hosted the meeting with the National Geographic Society. The current showpiece project in bioengineering is the rebirth of the passenger pigeon.

    The story of Ectopistes migratorius is a striking example of human hubris. When the Europeans arrived, the passenger pigeon was probably the most common bird on the American continent. The birds travelled in giant flocks, sometimes several hundred kilometers long. “The air was literally filled with pigeons,” naturalist John Audubon wrote in 1831, after observing the spectacle. “The light of noon-day was obscured as by an eclipse.”

    During their long migrations, the pigeons devastated entire forests. They descended upon their breeding grounds in eastern North America by the millions. There are historical accounts, for example, of a breeding ground in Wisconsin the size of Tokyo, where an estimated 136 million passenger pigeons came to breed. The noise was deafening.

    Living in a flock guaranteed the pigeons safety from predators. But the behavior also sealed their fate. When hunters discovered passenger pigeons as game birds, they were able to kill them with brutal efficiency, either by catching them in nets or shooting them with birdshot. They also placed pots of burning sulfur under trees until the birds, anesthetized by the vapors, dropped to the ground like overripe fruit.

    In some breeding areas, hunters slaughtered up to 50,000 passenger pigeons a day. The birds were shipped by the ton in freight cars and sold to be grilled at a few cents a dozen.

    Sequencing the Pigeon DNA

    By the time the establishment of a closed season for the birds was proposed in the US state of Minnesota in 1897, it was already too late. The last wild passenger pigeon was shot to death in 1900. Then, Pigeon Martha — named after Martha Washington, the country’s first First Lady — finally met her end at around noon on Sept. 1, 1914. She was the last surviving specimen in an unsuccessful program to breed the birds in captivity.

    Novak’s goal is to bring back the species, and he seems perfect for the job. In elementary school, he completed a project on the dodo, the extinct bird species from Mauritius. The passenger pigeon has fascinated him for years. “We caused the extinction of the species,” says the 26-year-old. “Now we have a moral obligation to bring them back.” To that end, the genetic detective is visiting natural history museums to take tissue samples from as many of the roughly 1,500 remaining samples of the skin and bones of the bird as possible.

    The passenger pigeon’s DNA has about 1.3 billion base pairs. Their sequence describes what the bird looks like, what its call sounds like and how it behaves. However, the animal’s genetic material in the museums is shredded into miniscule pieces, degraded by bacteria and contaminated with foreign DNA. But that doesn’t deter Novak. He and Beth Shapiro, an evolutionary biologist at the University of California in Santa Cruz, have begun to decode the bird’s DNA.

    The biologists have an ambitious plan. Bit by bit, they intend to match the DNA sequence of the passenger pigeon with that of its close relative, the band-tailed pigeon. Then they will essentially stamp out the divergent sequences from the band-tailed pigeon genome and replace them with synthesized passenger pigeon genetic material.

    With the help of the genome created in this fashion, the scientists will create primordial germ cells for the passenger pigeon, which will then be implanted into young embryos of an easy-to-breed pigeon species. The scientists hope that once they have grown and mated, the pigeons will lay eggs that will hatch into passenger pigeons.

    Chickens in a Duck’s Egg

    The procedure is not only complicated, but also largely untested. But, says Novak, “all the necessary steps are being studied intensively right now.” For instance, he explains, biologists have already managed to insert primordial germ cells from chickens into duck eggs. The drakes that emerged a short time later actually carried the sperm cells of chickens.

    Novak is already thinking beyond the hatching of the first passenger pigeon. Once a flock of the birds has been created, he plans to release them into the wild. “The passenger pigeon was a keystone species in the forest ecosystems,” says Novak, explaining that the destructive force of the flocks led to a radical rejuvenation of forests. Thick layers of pigeon droppings fertilized the soil, which soon led to new growth. “Passenger pigeons are the dance partners of the forest,” the scientist raves. And the “ballroom” still exists.

    But even if scientists can pull off this feat, does it really make sense to bring a long-extinct species back into the world? “Conservation biology’s priority must remain that of ensuring a future for species (currently) existing on the planet,” retired Professor Stanley Temple of the University of Wisconsin-Madison says critically. He fears that species extinction could be trivialized in the future. “People might say: ‘Can’t we let them go extinct and bring them back later?’”

    Zoologist David Ehrenfeld of Rutgers University also criticizes the species resurrection projects, saying that they are “extremely expensive” and, in light of a global species crisis, downright absurd. “At this very moment, brave conservationists are risking their lives to protect dwindling groups of existing African forest elephants from heavily armed poachers, and here we are talking about bringing back the wooly mammoth,” he says.

    Ehrenfeld also doesn’t believe that revived species would stand much of a chance of survival. “Who will care for the passenger pigeon chicks?” he asks, noting that parental care is “critical” for the development of young birds.

    Darkened Skies

    But Novak rejects the criticism. “Passenger pigeon parents were never incredibly involved in raising their young,” he says. He also plans to teach the chicks the basics of passenger pigeon life by dyeing carrier pigeons and essentially using them as flight controllers for the returning species.

    “We’ll ferry them with homing pigeons down to wintering grounds and back to the breeding area,” he says. “After a few years, we have passenger pigeons that fly the same (routes) as their forefathers.”

    When that happens, clouds of passenger pigeons will darken the skies once again, and another dream could be fulfilled for Novak. “Part of me would really love a passenger pigeon as a pet,” says the scientist. And perhaps, he adds, the pigeon zoo could even be expanded.

    There are 50 extinct pigeon species worldwide, says Novak. He has already earmarked three of them for resurrection: the Japanese silver-banded pigeon, the Choiseul crested pigeon and the thick-billed ground dove.

    “I am a pigeon nut,” says Novak.

    Translated from the German by Christopher Sultan

  • Interview with Edward O. Wilson on Human Evolution and the Origin of Morals

    American sociobiologist Edward O. Wilson is championing a controversial new approach for explaining human evolution and the origins of virtue and sin. In an interview, the world-famous ant reseacher explains why he believes the inner struggle is the characteristic trait of human nature.

    By Philip Bethge and Johann Grolle

    Edward O. Wilson doesn’t come across as the kind of man who’s looking to pick a fight. With his shoulders upright and his head tilting slightly to the side, he shuffles through the halls of Harvard University. His right eye, which has given him trouble since his childhood, is halfway closed. The other is fixed on the ground. As an ant researcher, Wilson has made a career out of things that live on the earth’s surface.

    There’s also much more to Wilson. Some consider him to be the world’s most important living biologist, with some placing him on a level with Charles Darwin.

    In addition to discovering and describing hundreds of species of ants, Wilson’s book on this incomparably successful group of insects is the only non-fiction biology tome ever to win a Pulitzer Prize. Another achievement was decoding the chemical communication of ants, whose vocabulary is composed of pheromones. His study of the ant colonization of islands helped to establish one of the most fruitful branches of ecology. And when it comes to the battle against the loss of biodiversity, Wilson is one of the movement’s most eloquent voices.

    ‘Blessed with Brilliant Enemies’

    But Wilson’s fame isn’t solely the product of his scientific achievements. His enemies have also helped him to establish a name. “I have been blessed with brilliant enemies,” he says. In fact, the multitude of scholars with whom Wilson has skirmished academically is illustrious. James Watson, one of the discoverers of the double helix in DNA is among them, as is essayist Stephen Jay Gould.

    At 83 years of age, Wilson is still at work making a few new enemies. The latest source of uproar is a book, “The Social Conquest of Earth,” published last April in the United States and this month in a German-language edition. In the tome, Wilson attempts to describe the triumphal advance of humans in evolutionary terms.

    It is not uncommon for Wilson to look to ants for inspiration in his writings — and that proves true here, as well. When, for example, he recalls beholding two 90-million-year-old worker ants that were trapped in a piece of fossil metasequoia amber as being “among the most exciting moments in my life,” a discovery that “ranked in scientific importance with Archaeopteryx, the first fossil intermediary between birds and dinosaurs, and Australopithecus, the first ‘missing link’ discovered between modern humans and the ancestral apes.”

    But that’s all just foreplay to the real controversy at the book’s core. Ultimately, Wilson uses ants to explain humans’ social behavior and, by doing so, breaks with current convention. The key question is the level at which Darwinian selection of human characteristics takes place. Did individuals enter into a fight for survival against each other, or did groups battle it out against competing groups?

    Prior to this book, Wilson had been an influential champion of the theory of kin selection. He has now rejected his previous teachings, literally demolishing them. “The beautiful theory never worked well anyway, and now it has collapsed,” he writes. Today, he argues that human nature can only be understood if it is perceived as being the product of “group selection” — a view that Wilson’s fellow academics equate with sacrilege. They literally lined up to express their scientific dissent in a joint letter.

    Some of the most vociferous criticism has come from Richard Dawkins, whose bestselling 1976 book “The Selfish Gene” first introduced the theory of kin selection to a mass audience. In a withering review of Wilson’s book in Britain’s Prospect magazine, Dawkins accuses a man he describes as his “lifelong hero” of “wanton arrogance” and “perverse misunderstandings”. “To borrow from Dorothy Parker,” he writes, “this is not a book to be tossed lightly aside. It should be thrown with great force.”

    SPIEGEL recently sat down with sociobiologist Wilson to discuss his book and the controversy surrounding it.

    —–>Read Original Interview at SPIEGEL International

    SPIEGEL: Professor Wilson, lets assume that 10 million years ago some alien spacecraft had landed on this planet. Which organisms would they find particularly intriguing?

    Wilson: Their interest, I believe, would not have been our ancestors. Primarily, they would have focused on ants, bees, wasps, and termites. Their discovery is what the aliens would report back to headquarters.

    SPIEGEL: And you think those insects would be more interesting to them than, for example, elephants, flocks of birds or intelligent primates?

    Wilson: They would be, because, at that time, ants and termites would be the most abundant creatures on the land and the most highly social creatures with very advanced division of labor and caste. We call them “eusocial,” and this phenomenon seems to be extremely rare.

    SPIEGEL: What else might the aliens consider particularly interesting about ants?

    Wilson: Ants engage in farming and animal husbandry. For example, some of them cultivate fungi. Others herd aphids and literally milk them by stroking them with their antennae. And the other thing the aliens would find extremely interesting would be the degree to which these insects organize their societies by pheromones, by chemical communication. Ants and termites have taken this form of communication to extremes.

    SPIEGEL: So the aliens would cable back home: “We have found ants. They are the most promising candidates for a future evolution towards intelligent beings on earth?”

    Wilson: No, they wouldn’t. They would see that these creatures were encased in exoskeletons and therefore had to remain very small. They would conclude that there was little chance for individual ants or termites to develop much reasoning power, nor, as a result, the capacity for culture. But at least on this planet, you have to be big in order to have sufficient cerebral cortex. And you probably have to be bipedal and develop hands with pulpy fingers, because those give you the capacity to start creating objects and to manipulate the environment.

    SPIEGEL: Would our ancestors not have caught their eye?

    Wilson: Ten million years ago, our ancestors indeed had developed a somewhat larger brain and versatile hands already. But the crucial step had yet to come.

    SPIEGEL: What do you mean?

    Wilson: Let me go back to the social insects for a moment. Why did social insects start to form colonies? Across hundreds of millions of years, insects had been proliferating as solitary forms. Some of them stayed with their young for a while, guided them and protected them. You find that widespread but far from universal in the animal kingdom. However, out of those species came a much smaller number of species who didn’t just protect their young, but started building nests that they defended …

    SPIEGEL: … similar to birds.

    Wilson: Yes. And I think that birds are right at the threshold of eusocial behaviour. But looking at the evolution of ants and termites again, there is another crucial step. In an even smaller group, the young don’t only grow up in their nest, but they also stay and care for the next generation. Now you have a group staying together with a division of labor. That is evidently the narrow channel of evolution that you have to pass through in order to become eusocial.

    SPIEGEL: And our ancestors followed the same path?

    Wilson: Yes. I argue that Homo habilis, the first humans, also went through these stages. In particular, Homo habilis was unique in that they already had shifted to eating meat.

    SPIEGEL: What difference would that make?

    Wilson: When animals start eating meat, they tend to form packs and to divide labor. We know that the immediate descendants of Homo habilis, Homo erectus, gathered around camp sites and that they actually had begun to use fire. These camp sites are equivalent to nests. That’s where they gathered in a tightly knit group, and then individuals went out searching for food.

    SPIEGEL: And this development of groups drives evolution even further?

    Wilson: Exactly. And, for example, if it now comes to staking out the hunting grounds, then group stands against group.

    SPIEGEL: Meaning that this is the origin of warfare?

    Wilson: Yes. But it doesn’t take necessarily the forming of an army or a battalion and meeting on the field and fighting. It was mostly what you call “vengeance raids”. One group attacks another, maybe captures a female or kills one or two males. The other group then counterraids, and this will go back and forth, group against group.

    ‘Kin Selection Doesn’t Explain Anything’

    SPIEGEL: You say that this so called group selection is vital for the evolution of humans. Yet traditionally, scientists explain the emergence of social behavior in humans by kin selection.

    Wilson: That, for a number of reasons, isn’t much good as an explanation.

    SPIEGEL: But you yourself have long been a proponent of this theory. Why did you change your mind?

    Wilson: You are right. During the 1970s, I was one of the main proponents of kin selection theory. And at first the idea sounds very reasonable. So for example, if I favored you because you were my brother and therefore we share one half of our genes, then I could sacrifice a lot for you. I could give up my chance to have children in order to get you through college and have a big family. The problem is: If you think it through, kin selection doesn’t explain anything. Instead, I came to the conclusion that selection operates on multiple levels. On one hand, you have normal Darwinian selection going on all the time, where individuals compete with each other. In addition, however, these individuals now form groups. They are staying together, and consequently it is group versus group.

    SPIEGEL: Turning away from kin selection provoked a rather fierce reaction from many of your colleagues.

    Wilson: No, it didn’t. The reaction was strong, but it came from a relatively small group of people whose careers are based upon studies of kin selection.

    SPIEGEL: Isn’t that too easy? After all, 137 scientists signed a response to your claims. They accuse you of a “misunderstanding of evolutionary theory”.

    Wilson: You know, most scientists are tribalists. Their lives are so tied up in certain theories that they can’t let go.

    SPIEGEL: Does it even make a substantial difference if humans evolved through kin selection or group selection?

    Wilson: Oh, it changes everything. Only the understanding of evolution offers a chance to get a real understanding of the human species. We are determined by the interplay between individual and group selection where individual selection is responsible for much of what we call sin, while group selection is responsible for the greater part of virtue. We’re all in constant conflict between self-sacrifice for the group on the one hand and egoism and selfishness on the other. I go so far as to say that all the subjects of humanities, from law to the creative arts are based upon this play of individual versus group selection.

    SPIEGEL: Is this Janus-faced nature of humans our greatest strength at the end of the day?

    Wilson: Exactly. This inner conflict between altruism and selfishness is the human condition. And it is very creative and probably the source of our striving, our inventiveness and imagination. It’s that eternal conflict that makes us unique.

    SPIEGEL: So how do we negotiate this conflict?

    Wilson: We don’t. We have to live with it.

    SPIEGEL: Which element of this human condition is stronger?

    Wilson: Let’s put it this way: If we would be mainly influenced by group selection, we would be living in kind of an ant society.

    SPIEGEL: … the ultimate form of communism?

    Wilson: Yes. Once in a while, humans form societies that emphasize the group, for example societies with Marxist ideology. But the opposite is also true. In other societies the individual is everything. Politically, that would be the Republican far right.

    SPIEGEL: What determines which ideology is predominant in a society?

    Wilson: If your territory is invaded, then cooperation within the group will be extreme. That’s a human instinct. If you are in a frontier area, however, then we tend to move towards the extreme individual level. That seems to be a good part of the problem still with America. We still think we’re on the frontier, so we constantly try to put forward individual initiative and individual rights and rewards based upon individual achievement.

    SPIEGEL: Earlier, you differentiated between the “virtue” of altruism and the “sin” of individualism. In your book you talk about the “poorer and the better angels” of human nature. Is it helpful to use this kind of terminology?

    Wilson: I will admit that using the terminology of “virtue” and “sin” is what poets call a “trope”. That is to say, I wanted the idea in crude form to take hold. Still, a lot of what we call “virtue” has to do with propensities to behave well toward others. What we call “sin” are things that people do mainly out of self-interest.

    SPIEGEL: However, our virtues towards others go only so far. Outside groups are mainly greeted with hostility.

    Wilson: You are right. People have to belong to a group. That’s one of the strongest propensities in the human psyche and you won’t be able to change that. However, I think we are evolving, so as to avoid war — but without giving up the joy of competition between groups. Take soccer …

    SPIEGEL: … or American football.

    Wilson: Oh, yes, American football, it’s a blood sport. And people live by team sports and national or regional pride connected with team sports. And that’s what we should be aiming for, because, again, that spirit is one of the most creative. It landed us on the moon, and people get so much pleasure from it. I don’t want to see any of that disturbed. That is a part of being human. We need our big games, our team sports, our competition, our Olympics.

    SPIEGEL: “Humans,” the saying goes, “have Paleolithic emotions” …

    Wilson: … “Medieval institutions and god-like technology”. That’s our situation, yeah. And we really have to handle that.

    SPIEGEL: How?

    Wilson: So often it happens that we don’t know how, also in situations of public policy and governance, because we don’t have enough understanding of human nature. We simply haven’t looked at human nature in the best way that science might provide. I think what we need is a new Enlightenment. During the 18th century, when the original Enlightenment took place, science wasn’t up to the job. But I think science is now up to the job. We need to be harnessing our scientific knowledge now to get a better, science-based self-understanding.

    SPIEGEL: It seems that, in this process, you would like to throw religions overboard altogether?

    Wilson: No. That’s a misunderstanding. I don’t want to see the Catholic Church with all of its magnificent art and rituals and music disappear. I just want to have them give up their creation stories, including especially the resurrection of Christ.

    SPIEGEL: That might well be a futile endeavour …

    Wilson: There was this American physiologist who was asked if Mary’s bodily ascent from Earth to Heaven was possible. He said, “I wasn’t there; therefore, I’m not positive that it happened or didn’t happen; but of one thing I’m certain: She passed out at 10,000 meters.” That’s where science comes in. Seriously, I think we’re better off with no creation stories.

    SPIEGEL: With this new Enlightenment, will we reach a higher state of humanity?

    Wilson: Do we really want to improve ourselves? Humans are a very young species, in geologic terms, and that’s probably why we’re such a mess. We’re still living with all this aggression and ability to go to war. But do we really want to change ourselves? We’re right on the edge of an era of being able to actually alter the human genome. But do we want that? Do we want to create a race that’s more rational and free of many of these emotions? My response is no, because the only thing that distinguishes us from super-intelligent robots are our imperfect, sloppy, maybe even dangerous emotions. They are what makes us human.

    SPIEGEL: Mr. Wilson, we thank you for this conversation.

    Interview conducted by Philip Bethge and Johann Grolle

    —–>Read Original Interview at SPIEGEL International

  • Technology Pioneer David Gelernter: ‘Love Is Beyond Watson’

    What does Watson’s Jeopardy victory tell us? Not much, says David Gelernter, the computer science pioneer and Yale professor. SPIEGEL spoke with Gelernter about the prospects of achieveing artifically-created consciousness and the belief that eternal life can be secured on a hard drive.

    SPIEGEL: Dr. Gelernter, the American journalist Ambrose Bierce described the word we are looking for as “a temporary insanity curable by marriage.” Do you know what we mean?

    Gelernter: I don’t.

    SPIEGEL: It’s love. It’s a question from the TV show Jeopardy, and the IBM supercomputer Watson had no problem finding the solution. So does that mean Watson knows what love is?

    Gelernter: He doesn’t have the vaguest idea. The field of artificial intelligence has not even started to address how emotions are represented cognitively, what makes a belief and so forth. The problem is, I don’t think only with my mind. I think with my body and my mind together. There’s no such thing as love without bodily input, output, reaction and response. So love is beyond Watson.

    SPIEGEL: Why, then, is Watson still doing well at Jeopardy?

    Gelernter: Because the body is not involved in playing Jeopardy. You don’t have to mean or to believe a single thing you say. The game is superficial enough to be winnable by an entity with no emotions, no sensations, and no self.

    SPIEGEL: Still, Watson’s opponents, Jeopardy all-time champions Ken Jennings and Brad Rutter, said in interviews that they had the feeling they were playing against a human. How come we can even consider Watson being on a par with us?

    Gelernter: I even consider my macaw Ike to be on a par with me (laughs and points to his macaw). But seriously, I’d rather chat with Watson than with some of the people in my department at Yale. Any baby with a teddy bear immediately anthropomorphizes the teddy bear. We want to see images of ourselves, mirrors of ourselves. Anthropomorphizing is a powerful human urge. So I have no problems calling Watson a “he.” That’s a normal human response.

    (-> read original article at SPIEGEL ONLINE international)

    SPIEGEL: Watson defeated Jennings and Rutter in the competition recently with staggering ease. If not human-like, can Watson at least tell us something about the human mind?

    Gelernter: Watson was not built to study the human mind. And the IBM people don’t claim that they’ve solved any cognitive problems. Watson was built to win Jeopardy. That’s it. For that purpose, it is drawing heavy on the parallel programming strategy. This strategy explicitly says: forget about the brain. The question is, can we burn raw computing power in such a way that we can create something that’s able to compete with a human? The result is an extraordinary piece of technology that — unlike IBM’s chess computer Deep Blue — has major implications for applied artificial intelligence.

    Computers Don’t Know What Pain Is

    SPIEGEL: But could you bring yourself to call a machine like that “intelligent”?

    Gelernter: The question is how superficial you are willing to be with your definition of “intelligence.” When we think of it seriously, intelligence implies a self who is intelligent, an entity that can sense its thoughts, is aware of the fact that it’s thinking and that it is manifesting intelligence. None of that is part of Watson by design.

    SPIEGEL: But let’s assume that we start feeding Watson with poetry instead of encyclopedias. In a few years time it might even be able to talk about emotions. Wouldn’t that be a step on the way to at least showing human-like behavior?

    Gelernter: Yes. However, the gulf between human-like behavior and human behavior is gigantic. Feeding poetry into Watson as opposed to encyclopedias is not going to do any good. Feed him Keats, and he will read “My heart aches, and a drowsing numbness pains my senses.” What the hell is that supposed to mean? When a poet writes “my heart aches” it’s an image, but it originates in an actual physical feeling. You feel something in the center of your chest. Or take “a drowsing numbness pains my senses”: Watson can’t know what drowsy means because he’s never fallen asleep. He doesn’t know what pain is. He has no purchase on poetry at all. Still, he could win at Jeopardy if the category were English Romantic poets. He would probably even do much better than most human contestants at not only saying Keats wrote this but explaining the references. There’s a lot of data involved in any kind of scholarship or assertion, which a machine can do very well. But it’s a fake.

    SPIEGEL: What is so special about the human brain that the machine can’t replicate it?

    Gelernter: The brain is radically different from the machine. Physics and chemistry are fundamental to its activity. The brain moves signals from one neuron to another by using a number of different neurotransmitters. It is made out of cells with certain properties, built out of certain proteins. It is a very elaborate piece of biology. The computer on the other hand is a purely electronic machine made out of semiconductors and other odds and ends. I can’t replicate the brain on a chip just in the same way I can’t replicate orange juice on a chip. Orange juice is just not the same thing as a chip.

    SPIEGEL: Are you serious about your statement that a machine won’t truly be able to think until it can daydream and hallucinate?

    Gelernter: Absolutely. We go through an oscillation between different mental states several times during the day, and you can’t understand the mind without understanding this spectrum. We have wide-awakeness, high energy, high level of concentration, which is associated with analytical capacities. And at the other end of the spectrum, we are exhausted, our thoughts are drifting. In that state, our thoughts are arranged in a different way. We start to freely associate. Take Rilke: All of a sudden it occurred to him that the flight of a swallow in the twilight sky is like a crack in a teapot. It’s a very strange image but a very striking image. Certainly, nobody else ever said it before. These sorts of new analogies and new images give rise to creativity, but also to scientific insights. Emotion has a lot to do with it. Why do you combine a bird flying with a piece of ceramic with a crack? Because, at least in Rilke’s mind, they are tagged with a similar emotion.

    SPIEGEL: But we are certainly able to think without getting so poetic.

    Gelernter: True. At the upper end of the spectrum, when my thoughts are disciplined by the logical rules of induction, analogies play no part. I have hypotheses, and I work my way through to conclusions. That kind of intelligence doesn’t need emotions, and it doesn’t need a body. But it is also of almost no importance to human beings. We think purely logically, analytically, roughly zero percent of our time. However, when I am thinking creatively, when I am inventing new analogies, I can’t do that without my emotional faculty. The body is intensely involved; it created the fuel that drives that process by engendering emotions.

    SPIEGEL: But even Watson might soon be able to come up with interesting analogies. Just give him the right books to read.

    Gelernter: It’s possible to build a machine that is capable of what seems like creativity — even a machine that can hallucinate. But it wouldn’t be like us at all. It would always be a fake, a facade. So, it is perfectly plausible that “Watson 2050” will win some poetry contests. It might write a magnificent sonnet that I find beautiful and moving and that becomes famous all over the world. But does that mean that Watson has a mind, a sense of self? No, of course not. There is nobody at home.

    SPIEGEL: Can you be sure?

    Gelernter: There is nothing inside.

    SPIEGEL: How can you know, then, that somebody is at home within another human being?

    Gelernter: I know what I am. I am a human being. If you are a human being too, my belief is you are intelligent. And not because you passed a test, not because you showed me you can do calculus or translate Latin. You could be fast asleep, somebody could ask, “Is he intelligent?” And I will say, “Yes, of course. He’s a human being.” The only intelligence everyone has ever experienced firsthand is his own. There is no objective test for intelligence in others. The observable behavior tells you nothing about what is within. The only way we can confidently ascribe intelligence is by seeing a creature like us.

    “Scientists Will Never Reproduce a Human Mind”

    SPIEGEL: There is a lab in Lausanne, Switzerland, where a group of scientists are trying to recreate the brain’s biology in each and every detail, one neuron at a time, in a supercomputer. They hope to replicate a complete human brain within a decade. Wouldn’t that be “a creature like us”?

    Gelernter: They could produce a very accurate brain simulator. They may be able to predict the behavior of the brain down to the transmission of signals. But they’re not going to produce a mind any more than a hurricane simulator produces a hurricane.

    SPIEGEL: Other scientists are far more optimistic. Regardless of all the obstacles, they say, the exponentially growing number of transistors on a chip will provide us with virtually infinite possibilities. If we connect huge numbers of computer chips in the right way and give them the right tasks to perform, then at some point consciousness will emerge.

    Gelernter: It is impossible to create mental states by writing software — no matter how sophisticated it gets. If a simple computer can’t produce orange juice, a much more complicated computer won’t do any better. Computer chips are just the wrong substrate, the wrong stuff for consciousness. Now, can some kind of a miracle happen if you put a lot of them together? Maybe. But I have no reason to believe that such a miracle will happen.

    SPIEGEL: Given that we can manage a really good fake, a robot that pretends to be conscious in a convincing way — would we even notice if it wasn’t the real thing?

    Gelernter: It already makes no difference to us. Just take the robots in Iraq and Afghanistan where they search for mines and so forth. The men on the front lines become emotionally attached to their robots, they’re sad when they are destroyed. And 50 years from now, robots will be much better. There are a lot of lonely people in the world. So now they have a robot, and it is around all the time, chats with them. Sure they will be attached to it. The robot will know all about them. The robot will be able to say things like, “How are you feeling this morning? I realize your back was hurting yesterday.” Will people have human-type feelings towards the robots? Absolutely. And then the question becomes: Does it matter that, in this sense, they are being defrauded? The answer is, given the scarcity of companionship in the world, it probably doesn’t matter in practical terms. However, it certainly matters philosophically. If you care about what it is to be a human being, the robot is not going to tell you.

    SPIEGEL: Things might change if you give him a near-perfect body, equipped with sensors that help him feel things and explore his environment like humans do.

    Gelernter: In that case the machine would be capable of simulating humanness much more effectively. But a fake body attached to a computer is still not going to generate real sensations. If you knocked your foot on something, your brain registers what we call pain. If you think of something good that is going to happen tomorrow, the body responds by feeling good, then the mind feels better and so forth. This feedback loop is very important to human behavior. A fake body, however, is still just binary switches with voltage levels going up and down.

    SPIEGEL: The American computer scientist Ray Kurzweil argues that the Internet itself might be on the brink of becoming super-intelligent, just because it will have computing power beyond imagination. And his beliefs are gaining in popularity. Why are these ideas so attractive?

    Gelernter: Because creating the mind is the philosopher’s stone of the Digital Age. In the Middle Ages, the alchemists tried to produce gold. Now they’ve moved over to the mind. Don’t get me wrong: They are going to produce a lot of interesting science along the way. But they are not going to get a mind.

    If You’re Dead, You’re Dead

    SPIEGEL: The so-called Singularity Movement predicts the advance of highly intelligent machines that will one day perhaps even become part of our bodies.

    Gelernter: We are being offered more ways than ever to destroy humanity by negating the significance of humanness. In the science fiction community there are those who say, “I will live forever insofar as I will be able to take my entire mind state and upload it to some server, and then I can die, but it doesn’t matter if my mind stays there.” Now, any two-year-old child can see the flaw in this argument: When you die, you are dead, and it doesn’t matter if there is one copy or a billion copies of what your mind was before you died. It doesn’t matter to you. You’re still dead. The great philosophical analogy of the second half of the 20th century was that mind is to brain the way software is to computer. But this is ridiculous. There is no analogy between mind and software.

    SPIEGEL: Why not?

    Gelernter: If you have some software, you can make as many copies as you like. You can put it on a million different computers, and it is always exactly the same software. Minds, however, run on exactly one platform. You can’t swap the mind out to some storage medium and then run it again after keeping it offline.

    SPIEGEL: Hypothetically, what would happen if you managed to transfer one person’s brain into another person’s body?

    Gelernter: There would be no mind anymore. As you took the brain from somebody and put it into somebody else’s head, the mind that you used to have is gone because that mind was part of a body and responsive to that body. From a medical standpoint, the question is if the brain is a flexible enough organism to re-tune itself to a different kind of input from a different body. But the original mind would definitely be lost.

    SPIEGEL: Assuming those popular visions of Artificial Intelligence won’t come true in the foreseeable future, where do you see AI research going in the next decade?

    Gelernter: My hope is that the philosophy of mind and cognitive science will develop a very sophisticated theory of how the mind works. The philosophy of mind has been dazzled by computing, which led down the wrong path. We have to get rid of this ridiculous obsession with computing, which has done tremendous damage. People worrying about singularity should go back and read Nietzsche. They should try and understand Kafka seriously. They should read a poet like William Wordsworth. Now, in an entirely separate effort, Artificial Intelligence will produce more and more powerful machines. We’ll rely on them heavily. They will fix problems and answer questions for us all the time. No one will claim that they have minds, least of all the people who built the programs.

    SPIEGEL: One of those powerful assistants might well be a descendent of Watson. Let’s assume it has been shrunken to the size of a pea, and it could be plugged into our brains. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have all that knowledge on hand within your own body?

    Gelernter: I can have all of Watson’s knowledge available already — by just opening my laptop. Does it matter to me if I can get the answer not in 10 seconds but in 10 microseconds? It really depends on how I define my integrity as a human being. Could I get more direct access to a million completely meaningless disconnected facts if I implanted a Watson chip and then go onto Jeopardy? I would win Jeopardy. However, it would give me no happiness, no satisfaction, no feeling of triumph, no feeling of accomplishment.

    SPIEGEL: You wouldn’t feel tempted to get yourself a Watson?

    Gelernter: Sure I would. This is a brilliant, exciting piece of technology. I don’t want to take anything away from it. It puts AI on a track that is going to produce fascinating technology. It uses exactly what we are rich in, namely pure primitive computer power, to produce sophisticated answers to complex questions. We need that ability, and Watson can do it.

    SPIEGEL: Would you trade your macaw for Watson, if you had to choose?

    Gelernter: No way would I trade my macaw in for any piece of software. Look at him. He’s got a face. He’s got a big smile on his beak. He’s a creature who does have emotions, who has interests, and who is a member of the family. You’d have to offer me a lot more than Watson for my macaw.

    SPIEGEL: Dr. Gelernter, thank you very much for talking to us.

    Interview conducted by Philip Bethge and Manfred Dworschak

    (-> read original article at SPIEGEL ONLINE international)

  • ‘Starfish, Daisies and Raying Purple Forms’: Oliver Sacks on the Wonder of Sight

    Oliver Sacks (© Luigi Novi / Wikimedia Commons)
    Oliver Sacks (© Luigi Novi / Wikimedia Commons)

    In a SPIEGEL interview, New York neurologist and author Oliver Sacks discusses his new book, “The Mind’s Eye,” which explores how creative people compensate for their sight disorders or blindness. He also discusses his own “face blindness,” which makes it difficult to recognize people.

    (–> photo-gallery OPTICAL ILLUSIONS)

    SPIEGEL: Dr. Sacks, five years ago, you were diagnosed with a melanoma in your right eye. You thought you would die soon. What has happened since?

    Sacks: Well, obviously, I didn’t die. I was told that a melanoma in the eye is more benign than I previously thought, but in those early weeks after the diagnosis, I was still very prone to fear and a sort of black humor. Fortunately, that fear has largely gone away. My feeling now is that time is doubly precious.

    SPIEGEL: How is your eye these days?

    Sacks: I am actually a little shy about it. I feel it does look bad …

    SPIEGEL: … not at all!

    Sacks: … well, I bled into the eye and I can’t see through it. So I regard the eye as being out of action. And whether I will recover any sight in it, I don’t know.

    SPIEGEL: Did the tumor change your perception?

    Sacks: When this presented itself, I noticed that a segment of my vision was missing. I always use the ceiling fan for checking my visual fields. And in the three weeks while I was waiting for surgery, I went from missing one blade to missing three blades. After surgery, my vision was becoming distorted, so that, for example, people looked as if they were elongated and tilted over to one side, almost insect-like. And faces had these strange, sort of puffy protoplasmic extrusions. There was a Francis Bacon exhibit here a while back that reminded me of that.

    SPIEGEL: Did you see things that weren’t there?

    Sacks: You mean hallucinations? Yes, I did, and I do have them. I tend to see things like little starfish, daisies and raying purple forms … let me bring you something … I kept one or two notes … so that’s my journal (he returns with a huge pile of notebooks).

    SPIEGEL: In your new book, you describe the blind spot in your right eye as a “gaping nowhere.”

    Sacks: Wait, I’ll show you what it looked like, I made a drawing of it. See, it has more or less the shape of Australia. It causes me a lot of trouble when I bump into people or lamp posts, but it sometimes fills me with wonder, too. One day, for example, I looked at my foot with my right eye and sort of amputated it with my blind spot, a little above the ankle. But when I moved my foot a little, wiggling the toes, the stump seemed to grow a translucent pink extension with a ghostly protoplasmic halo around it. As I continued wiggling my toes, this took on a more definite form until, after a minute or so, I had a complete phantom foot.

    (-> read original article at SPIEGEL ONLINE international)

    SPIEGEL: You specialize in treating patients with neurological disorders. Now you’ve turned into a case study yourself. Do you see this as some sort of dark irony?

    Sacks: I do think that it’s a particular irony. Stereo vision for example, which you can only truly have with two eyes, has always been very important for me. From the age of 10 or even earlier, I have loved stereo photography and stereograms. For many people, this loss probably sounds trivial, maybe because they’re not so conscious of having it; and if they lose it, they hardly notice it. But for people like me, it’s really bad.

    SPIEGEL: There are other ways for the brain to calculate depth: perspective, movement, shadows. People with vision in only one eye can even drive motorcycles.

    Sacks: But they can’t experience depth! And they don’t know what they miss. I once asked a friend, Sue Barry, who was cross-eyed all her life, if she could imagine stereo vision and she said, “Sure I can.” But later, through vision therapy and with the help of special glasses, she gained stereo vision and found herself in a truly spectacular new world. She loved it and came to me and said: “I was wrong.” No one without it can imagine what stereo vision is like, just as a totally colorblind person can’t imagine what color is like.

    SPIEGEL: All your case studies seem to have a common theme: the remarkable ability of the brain to compensate and adapt. How do you cope?

    Sacks: I don’t think that I have adapted very well. I use a stick now because high curbs are a special danger for me. They look like horizontal lines on the ground. If a room is cluttered, rather than seeing objects in space, I see surfaces which are sometimes on top of each other. I wish I could paint because the world looks to me very much like a canvas with shapes and colors.

    SPIEGEL: To what degree can the mind compensate for the loss of input? In other words, how colorful can a blind person’s world possibly be?

    Sacks: Oh, very colorful! Zoltan Torey for example, an Australian, who was blinded in an industrial accident when he was 21, visualizes things to the point where he shocked his neighbors by replacing the gutters on the roof of his house at night. If you talk to Zoltan, you don’t feel he’s blind. He seems to be looking at you because he visualizes you in a very vivid, detailed manner. However, of course, if you very quietly turn your back at him, he wouldn’t know.

    SPIEGEL: Is it some kind of virtual reality he is creating?

    Sacks: No, he does not form a perceptual world. It doesn’t have, for example, all the details; imagery can never be as rich in detail as reality. Zoltan would go on what information he had. Since he was not blind from birth, he has visual memories that he can call on.

    SPIEGEL: In theory at least, is anyone who becomes blind later in life capable of compensating with more or less detailed imagery?

    Sacks: Not necessarily. John Hull, who corresponds with me by mail, lost his vision when he was in his forties. He describes his state as one of “deep blindness” — a total absence of any imagery. Two years after becoming blind, Hull couldn’t evoke the image of his wife or his children. He said he couldn’t even say which way around the number three went.

    SPIEGEL: Does he miss the images?

    Sacks: No. He even seems to like his condition. He feels he lives in an authentic, autonomous world, in his words one of “concentrated human condition.”

    SPIEGEL: Are you surprised that people’s minds react so differently in comparable circumstances?

    Sacks: Originally, I was very surprised. But, these two, I now realize — and I’ve seen dozens of blind people — are extremes. People adapt in different ways, they come up with all sorts of things. Ten to 15 percent of the people who lose their sight hallucinate — and not just little things, but faces and scenes and animals. Others don’t hallucinate at all.

    (-> read original article at SPIEGEL ONLINE international)

    SPIEGEL: Is there something like a psychological resilience that makes some people cope better than others?

    Sacks: Well, I mean, Zoltan feels that John Hull was too passive and too acquiescent, to put it bluntly. If you are asking how much of it is a decision to do things and how much is physiology, that’s really a difficult question to answer.

    SPIEGEL: Lillian Kallir, a celebrated musician and one of your patients, lost her ability to read music. Later on, she couldn’t read words anymore or identify objects. What’s different when the mind, and not the eye, loses the ability to see?

    Sacks: When Lillian wrote to me, she was very puzzled. She asked, “How come I can see tiny little letters, and I can’t make sense of them?” This is perception stripped of meaning. You may occasionally experience this yourself. Proust gives an example of this when he wakes up one morning and he doesn’t know where he is or who he is, and he says, “Memory comes down like a rope from heaven.” For Lillian, however, memory doesn’t come back.

    SPIEGEL: How did Lillian describe her experience to you?

    Sacks: The whole visual world was confusing for her. Once she took my medical bag instead of her own purse although they looked totally different. But Lillian stayed calm and found ways of living with this. At home, for example, she organized things by color or by position, so that she could identify them, even though they didn’t carry any visual meaning for her. Also, she still had rough categories for things. I remember showing her a picture of a wolf. She wasn’t able to identify it. But she thought that it maybe was a baby elephant. So she could see it was an animal.

    SPIEGEL: Some of your patients seem to even gain something from their impairments, for example the painter who lost his color vision but found an even stronger aesthetic identity by working in black and white. Can the tragedies you report on ultimately become opportunities for growth?

    Sacks: Well, one wouldn’t wish any of these conditions on anyone, yet there may be a positive side. When the left temporal lobe of the brain gets damaged, people may have a sudden heightened visual facility, and, for example, start painting. People with certain other conditions turn out to be better than normal at reading facial expressions and at hearing expressions of voice. This is not an instantaneous thing. It takes a while to develop. It’s a way to survive and to organize their new world in new ways.

    SPIEGEL: You once compared the brain to an “orchestra that conducts itself, with an ever-changing score and repertoire.” Are the off-key performances of this orchestra more widespread than we think?

    Sacks: I believe that most of us have small frailties and flaws in how we make sense of the world. In fact, there is an impairment which I myself share with a lot of people: I have trouble recognizing faces. It is quite distressing. If you have this condition, you always fear that people might think that you don’t care or that you are not sufficiently attentive. However, the recognition of faces doesn’t depend on attention. It’s pre-attentive. People who are face blind have to learn to pay unusual attention to the way people are dressed, the way they stand, their voice or the way they move.

    SPIEGEL: If you’d meet us five minutes after our conversation in the elevator, would you recognize us?

    Sacks: I probably wouldn’t. Although I noticed you were both tall people, but then — there are lots of tall people (laughs).

    SPIEGEL: Why is it so difficult for the brain to make sense of the visual world?

    Sacks: Because it requires the orchestration of 40 or 50 different areas in the brain. These areas have to do with meaning, with association, emotion and so forth. Fortunately, we are not a blank sheet when we are born. We already have all sorts of potentials, and these have to be developed by experience. I am fascinated, for example, by our ability to read. There is no part of the brain that has been shaped by evolution for reading. Reading has only been around for 5,000 years. The reason why we were able to learn how to read is our inherent potential for shape recognition.

    SPIEGEL: Let’s say we could understand the processes of perception, cognition, language and thinking. Would we then be able to enter the inner world of somebody and put ourselves in somebody else’s mind?

    Sacks: A very primitive thought reading is possible already, with the medical imaging that is available today. If you ask people to imagine a piece of music, to recite a poem internally or to imagine a color, you will find particular parts of the brain light up. However, the more sophisticated thought reading will never become a reality because there’s novelty and uniqueness in everyone. Everyone’s brain develops in a particular way. Even if you could, theoretically, transmit your brain cells to someone else, they wouldn’t know what to make of it.

    SPIEGEL: Why not?

    Sacks: Because the language of uniqueness and subjectivity will never be replaced by the language of physiology. For example, if you think of a certain wonderful moment — when there was that marvelous time when your were 22 and in the love and the moon was rising in a starlit sky — how is this moment imprinted in the brain? We don’t know. Our methods are so crude. There are millions and millions of neurons with tens of thousands of connections to others. The degree of it all is unimaginable. Our medical imagery is getting better and better, but I don’t think that we can ever catch up.

    SPIEGEL: Dr. Sacks, we thank you for this interview.

    Interview conducted by Philip Bethge and Rafaela von Bredow

    (-> read original article at SPIEGEL ONLINE international)

  • Help for the Disabled: Trained Monkeys Proving Trusty Companions for Those in Need

    Specially-trained Capuchin monkeys in the US are helping physically disabled people with the housework by performing tasks such as removing garbage, fetching the telephone or switching on the microwave. The furry companions are also helping paraplegics cope with loneliness.

    It’s her small hands that make Minnie especially useful. Hairy and slender, with slim fingers and black nails, the Capuchin monkey’s hands are just right for twisting open a bottle of juice or fetching the telephone. And when Craig Cook’s head itches, Minnie comes and scratches it until he feels better.

    “She is more human than you would think,” Cook says. The 44-year-old American, who has been paraplegic for more than 14 years, runs his stiff fingers lovingly through Minnie’s fur as she cuddles on his lap, observing his guest curiously with her large, brown eyes. Then the monkey jumps up and crosses the kitchen of Cook’s bungalow at a wild run, screeching and leaping, a bundle of energy wrapped up in dark brown fur.

    “Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Cook says, his eyes shining. He has shared his bungalow here in La Habra, near Los Angeles, with the 30-year-old Capuchin monkey for the past six years. They watch Los Angeles Angels baseball games on TV together, or enjoy the California sun from the patio. And when Cook has “one of those bad days,” it’s Minnie who manages to make him laugh.

    “It’s wonderful to have an animal like that at home,” Cook says. A former engineer and American football quarterback, he broke his spine in a car accident. He’s very lucky to have Minnie — there are only 45 Capuchin monkeys like her in the entire US, and Minnie is one of the best.

    Monkey School

    Minnie spent several years in training at the Monkey College, a facility run by a Boston-based aid organization called Helping Hands. This unusual school trains monkeys as household assistants and life partners for paralyzed people — with great success. “The Capuchin monkeys provide independence and the gift of joy and companionship to the recipients, says Helping Hands employee Andrea Rothfelder. “These animals are very affectionate and loving; a lot of recipients call it a little miracle when their monkey moves in with them.”

    Director of training Alison Payne describes the Monkey College as a “mixture of pre-school and zoo.” Helping Hands has a total of 180 monkeys, 50 of them currently being trained in Boston. Here in the three-story center, the monkeys practice using light switches, drawers, bottles and CD players. They learn the actions first in a room with only Spartan furnishings; later they practice in a “teaching apartment” outfitted with a wheelchair, bed, bookshelf and kitchenette.

    Trainers drill the monkeys on around 30 commands, including “fetch,” for retrieving an object, and “trash,” for taking something to the garbage can. “Push” might mean the monkey should shut the refrigerator door, while “open” would achieve the opposite. Motivation for learning tasks is provided with peanut butter and spray can whipped cream.

    “The monkeys are naturally curious,” Payne says. “We try to expand their attention space.” Still, the monkeys are also allowed some time off. Today Chichi and Jessica are romping around the playroom, chasing bubbles. For their classmate Tricia, it’s bath day. Trainer Jennifer Evans has filled the kitchen sink with a lukewarm bubble bath, where Tricia is splashing about, poking her soaking wet head over the edge. A few minutes later, the trainer comes over to rub her dry.

    “They’re very much like two-year-olds,” Payne says. Actually, the monkeys are between eight and 10, the ideal age range for drilling and training, when they start at the Monkey College. First, they get used to people by living in foster families. Next come two to four years of training. Once they’re housetrained, they can move in with a disabled person.

    (-> read original article at SPIEGEL ONLINE international)

    When Cook began his life together with Minnie, the evening that ruined his life was already several years behind him. On January 12, 1996, the engineer met a colleague for dinner in Los Angeles. The two left the restaurant shortly before midnight. “It was a mild evening, and Tyler wanted to take a drive in my convertible,” Cook recalls. As they sped down the highway, Cook’s colleague lost control of the 300-horsepower car. The vehicle flipped over and slid down an embankment. Cook’s spine snapped instantly; his colleague was barely hurt.

    Cook lost everything that day — his job; his girlfriend, who soon moved out; but above all control over his own body. Unable to adjust to his new life, he found himself sliding into depression. But when a friend heard of Helping Hands, Cook contacted the organization and sent an application video. A couple of months later, Minnie entered his life.

    “When the trainers came out here, they stayed for about a week,” he recalls. “It was only then that she accepted me as the new king.” That’s the way of Capuchin monkeys — they live in groups and choose their leaders with care.

    Today, Cook and Minnie are inseparable. “Spoon,” Cook says and the monkey fetches one from the silverware drawer. “Sun” — Minnie turns on the light. “Can you do hand?” — Minnie hoists her master’s arm, which has slipped down from the armrest. He uses that hand to operate his wheelchair.

    “Minnie can be lifesaving for me,” Cook says. One time, his wheelchair got stuck on the patio as the sun was going down. Cook knew he was facing an entire night sitting in the dark, freezing and getting wet, until his caregiver arrived in the morning. He called Minnie, who brought his telephone. An hour later, help was there. “I had tears in my eyes,” Cook says.

    “The monkeys can be a lifeline; however, the most important thing of all is the companionship that they bring and this unconditional love,” says director of training Payne. “Suddenly you have this little monkey person at home who just thinks that you are the coolest thing ever.”

    ‘They Alleviate the Pain and the Loneliness’

    Helping Hands employees tell the story of a veteran who lost both his legs in Iraq. “He says that the monkey is the only one who takes him the way he is and who doesn’t notice that he hasn’t any legs,” Rothfelder says. The monkeys could never take the place of a full-time caregiver, “but they allieviate both the pain and the loneliness of being home alone and also provide some tasks in the house.”

    It’s hardly surprising that the clever Capuchin monkeys are in hot demand, but Helping Hands is only able to provide between six and eight of the monkeys to paralyzed individuals each year. It costs the organization around $40,000 (€30,500) to train a single monkey, all of which must come from donations. The service is free for the patients.

    Craig Cook can count himself lucky — his Minnie has granted him a new life. He remembers clearly the moment when the monkey jumped onto his shoulder for the first time, after five months together. “Suddenly she rubbed her fingers through the back of my hair,” he says. “That’s the ultimate sign of affection.”

    Cook estimates Minnie could live another 15 years, but he’s loath to think beyond that point. The monkey won a place in his heart long ago.

    “Minnie, are you OK?” — these are the words he’ll use to call the monkey tonight, after the caregiver has helped him into bed. And Minnie will answer him, from her cage in the living room, where she rolls herself up beneath a small, light blue blanket.

    “And she will go toot toot toot,” Cook says. Then he gives a small smile and explains: “That means, ‘Everything is all right.’”

    (-> read original article at SPIEGEL ONLINE international)

  • Saving Moon Trash: Urine Containers, ‘Space Boots’ and Artifacts Aren’t Just Junk, Argue Archaeologists

    California has named the remains of the Apollo 11 mission a state historical resource — to the delight of the young profession of space archaeologists. They fear that the trash and equipment left behind by the United States’ journeys to the moon could someday wind up for sale on eBay if they aren’t protected.

    There is an unwritten law in America’s national parks: Carry out what you bring in.

    When they visited the moon, though, the Americans weren’t nearly as considerate or in touch with nature. Astronauts Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong left behind more than 100 items when they left the moon on July 21, 1969, at 5:54 p.m., Earth Time. The items included four urine containers, several airsickness bags, a Hasselblad camera, lunar overshoes and a complete moon-landing step.

    The mission was historically significant. But are the urine containers? (more…)