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CELL AND PSYCHE 
THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 



By 
EDMUND W. SINNOTT 



HARPER TORCHBOOKS / The Science Library 
HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK 



CELL AND PSYCHE 

Copyright 1950 by The University of North Carolina Press 
Printed in the United States of America 

This book was first published in 1950 by The 
University of North Carolina Press, and is re- 
printed by arrangement. 



First HARPER TORCHBOOK edition published 1961 



PREFACE TO 
THE TORCHBOOK EDITION 



SINCE the publication of this little book in 1950, as the McNair 
Lectures at the University of North Carolina, the author has 
written two others, as well as a number of papers, on the same gen- 
eral theme. Though these elaborate the argument a little further, 
the essence of it is in Cell and Psyche. This is admittedly a specula- 
tion, but one based solidly on biological fact. It has been regarded 
as rather visionary and metaphysical by some people, but others 
have been attracted to it by the suggestion it offers for a better 
understanding of the ancient problem of how mind and body are 
related to each other. This problem is of such paramount impor- 
tance, not only for a knowledge of what man really is but for the 
construction of a satisfying life philosophy, that any light thrown 
on it should be welcome. 

The suggestion that man's physical life grows out of the basic 
goal-seeking and purposiveness found in all organic behavior and 
that this, in turn, is an aspect of the more general self -regulating 
and normative character evident in the development and activities 
of living organisms, is at least worth serious consideration. If we 
are to avoid a dualistic idea of man's nature and to construct a 
true monism that does not require the sacrifice of the significance 
of either mind or body, some such conception as this seems a rea- 
sonable means of doing so. It is to be hoped that the wider distri- 
bution now made possible for the present book may result in a more 
general consideration of this particular relationship between biol- 
ogy and philosophy* 

E.W.S. 

New Haven, Connecticut 
April, 1961 



CONTENTS 



Introduction . i 

I. Organization, the Distinctive Character 

of All Life 15 

II. Biological Organization and Psychological 

Activity 43 

IIL Some Implications for Philosophy 75 

Suggested Readings . 112 
Index . 117 



INTRODUCTION 



IN THE CLAMOR and confusion of our times one fact 
grows ever clearer beliefs are important. One of the 
major problems with which men now are faced per- 
haps, indeed, the most important one is the wide dis- 
agreement which still exists in their fundamental philos- 
ophies. What course a man will follow, or a nation, is 
set in no small measure by his basic creed, by what he 
really thinks about the true nature of a human being 
his personality, his freedom, his destiny, his relations to 
others and to the rest of the universe; by the judgments 
lie makes as to what qualities and courses of action are 
admirable and should command his allegiance. These 
are not academic questions merely. They arc ancient mys- 
teries which long have troubled human hearts and seem 
today almost as far as ever from solution. The answer a 
ny*n gives to them is the most significant thing that one 
can know about him. We may be tempted to under- 
estimate the importance of these inner directives and 
turn instead to outer influences, to economic and social 
factors, as more decisive for our actions. But when we 
look at what the philosophy of Marx has done to set one- 
half the world against the other, at the basic divergence 
between the thinking of East and West, and at so many 
other differences in political and religious beliefs which 



2 CELL AND PSYCHE 

now divide mankind, we can hardly doubt the profound 
practical import of men's philosophies. It is still true 
today that "as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he. 5 * In 
the minds of men are the most fateful battles fought. 
Against those ideologies we condemn, force in the end 
will fail. If our opponents cannot be convinced, or their 
ideas reconciled to ours, true peace will never come. And 
so today men everywhere are trying to formulate a satis- 
fying body of convictions, a sound philosophy of life, in 
the hope that for a generation drifting on the ocean of 
uncertainty some anchor may take hold upon the bottom 
of eternal truth. 

This is no new quest Since the beginning of history 
men have pondered the deep questions of life and death, 
of beauty and truth, of good and evil. What brings so 
much confusion to their thinking now is the vast increase 
of scientific knowledge which has made nature much 
more difficult to understand and pulled down so many 
ancient pillars of belief. The answers confidently given 
a century ago and accepted then by almost everyone are 
seriously challenged today. The universe is a vastly big- 
ger place than our grandfathers thought it was. The 
earth is far older than the 6,000 years allotted it by 
Bishop Ussher. Milton's account of the creation of liv- 
ing things in the seventh book of Paradise Lost is still 
fine poetry but quite inadequate as a scientific description 
of biological events. Man himself has a much longer 
and more complicated history than that with which a 
strict interpretation of the first chapter of Genesis would 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 3 

provide him. Even matter, the physicists tell us, which 
to the beginning of our own century retained its com- 
forting solidity, should now be looked upon as largely 
empty space. The atom itself is no longer a little mate- 
rial pellet but has almost vanished into a series of electric 
charges, waves, and probabilities, no longer understand- 
able except by mathematics. The universe is exploding. 
Space is curved. Light waves can be bent. Form and mass 
depend on speed of motion. The physical world of the 
nineteenth century with its reassuring certainties is gone 
forever, and we have not yet learned how to find our 
way about in the new one which has come to take its 
place* 

It is not surprising, therefore, that men of science have 
become involved in an attempt to interpret their findings 
in philosophical terms and to bring order into our knowl- 
edge of the world. Eddington, Jeans, Schrodinger, Du 
Noiiy, Shenington, Needham, J. S. Haldane, Hender- 
son, Julian Huxley, and many others are familiar names 
in this field today, as were those of T. H. Huxley, 
Haeckel, Driesch, and Jaques Loeb a half century ago. 
The conclusions of these earnest philosophic laymen are 
often open to criticism at the hands of those more skillful 
in the craft, and doubtless they have written much bad 
philosophy. As Professor Joad puts it, "When the scien- 
tist leaves his laboratory and speculates about the universe 
as a whole, the resultant conclusions are apt to tell us 
more about the scientist than about the universe." 1 But 

X <X E. M. Joad, Philosophical Aspects of Modern Science, p. 339. 



4 CELL AND PSYCHE 

the wisest philosophers have failed to interpret the uni- 
verse completely, and surely no aid in the accomplish- 
ment of so great a task should be despised. The fresh 
vision which the scientist can bring to these problems 
is stimulating, and the contribution which he makes to 
the philosophies of men may in the end prove more sig- 
nificant than all his triumphs in technology. It is in this 
belief that I shall here attempt to find some help toward 
a solution of a few of the great problems with which life 
confronts us by drawing upon the resources of biology, 
the science of life itself. 

Whatever I shall say can hardly have much novelty, 
for biologists have long recognized the importance of 
their science for philosophy and have discussed these 
matters often and from many points of view. It is chiefly 
during the past hundred years, however, when biology 
has really come of age, that they have left the laboratory 
and the field from time to time to engage in the thrust 
and parry of philosophic argument. 

Darwin's theory of Natural Selection and the subse- 
quent wide acceptance of the fact of organic evolution 
wrought a complete revolution in our understanding of 
the origin of living things and of man himself and thus 
in our whole attitude toward nature. Not only did a 
literal interpretation of the traditional story of creation 
become impossible for anyone who understood biology 
and geology, but the new ideas challenged tradition on 
even more fundamental grounds than that of Biblical in- 
fallibility. Though Darwin himself showed little interest 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 5 

in the implications of his theory, some of the early pro- 
tagonists of his ideas drew from them strong support for 
a philosophy of materialism and thus struck at the very 
basis of religion. Ernst Haeckel, Darwin's first great sup- 
porter on the continent, battled with enthusiastic vigor 
against the ancient ideas of immortality, free will, and 
the existence of a God. Life for him was simply a com- 
plex chemical phenomenon associated with the com- 
pounds of carbon and had originated by evolution from 
inorganic nature. Mind was merely the result of chem- 
ical changes in living stuff, the soul a fiction, and man 
himself no more than part of a rigidly determined, 
planless universe. All nature was one, and matter its 
sole foundation* This extreme and uncompromising 
materialism found less favor in England and America. 
Darwin's biological theories led T. H. Huxley into 
wide discussions of philosophy and religion in which he 
adopted an essentially agnostic attitude, supporting the 
concept of universal causation and the supremacy of the 
scientific approach to truth. He broke sharply with 
orthodox Christianity, but refused to call himself a 
materialist. 

But something more than evolutionary speculation was 
needed. The question of what sort of system a living 
thing is could readily be approached by experiment, and 
in the latter years of the nineteenth century the science 
of experimental embryology opened up a new and excit- 
ing chapter in biology and biological philosophy. The 
fertilized eggs and early developmental stages of many 



6 CELL AND PSYCHE 

animals, notably some of die echinoderms and amphibia, 
can be studied under controlled conditions and manipu- 
lated in various ways. The results of work on such mate- 
rial were in many cases most surprising. When, for 
example, one of the first two cells of a tiny salamander 
embryo is destroyed, the remaining one grows into a 
whole individual, not a half, as one might expect. Two 
fertilized eggs induced to fuse by artificial means were 
found to produce one animal instead of two. A mass of 
evidence of this sort made it very difficult to interpret 
development as due to the progressive parcelling out of 
"determiners" from an egg to the cells which originate 
from it, as Weismann and others had suggested. It soon 
became evident that every cell of many embryos, at least 
in the early stages, is able, if isolated, to produce a whole 
animal. The implications of this remarkable fact were 
not overlooked, and Driesch was quick to point out the 
difficulties involved in imagining a machine capable of 
being cut up into an indefinite number of pieces each of 
which could restore the whole machine again. For this 
and other reasons he concluded that a mechanistic ex- 

t~}*~j.y A*- 

planation of development was impossible, and postulated 
the operation here of an entelechy, an extra-physical agent 
which in some unknown manner guides the course of 
development. Such vitalism has found little acceptance 
among biologists, although there are a few thinkers to- 
day who call themselves neo-vitalists. Man's mind, which 
has knowledge of all nature as its goal, will not readily 
accept defeat by admitting that there is something here 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 7 

which must lie beyond its power to understand. The 
grave problems which such studies in experimental em- 
bryology raise, however, are still for from solution. 

Meanwhile the geneticists had not been idle. Mendel's 
laws were rediscovered, and by a brilliant series of induc- 
tions the physical basis of inheritance was shown to con- 
sist of a series of genes arranged in a constant pattern 
in the chromosomes of the nucleus. Since all cells of the 
body have the same number of chromosomes, they are 
very probably identical in hereditary constitution, and the 
question of how these similar cells cooperate to produce 
a complete individual with its specific form and its 
patterned differences is hard to understand. Develop- 
mental genetics, which emphasizes the mechanics of gene 
action, thus faces essentially the same problem as does 
experimental embryology that of how the orderly con- 
trol of development is accomplished. To understand the 
means by which thousands of genespresumably protein 
molecules in every cell can so guide the chemical activ- 
ities of protoplasm that an organism is produced, is very 
difficult. J. S. Haldane went so far as to say that "the 
mechanistic theory of heredity is not merely unproven, 
it is impossible. It involves such absurdities that no in- 
telligent person who has thoroughly realized its meaning 
and implications can continue to hold it." 2 

But many were not so pessimistic as this about the 
ability of science to explain an organism in terms of 
mechanism. By the turn of the century physiologists had 

*J. S. Haldane, Mechanism, JJff and Personality, p. 58* 



8 CELL AND PSYCHE 

made much progress in the physico-chemical analysis of 
the activities of living things. Many vital processes could 
by then be imitated outside the body, and Jaques Loeb, 
a vigorous champion of the mechanistic interpretation of 
life, was already hopefully predicting the artificial syn- 
thesis of living protoplasm in the near future. Biochem- 
istry, continuing to apply to the analysis of living things 
the chemical knowledge already gained in the laboratory, 
has now become one of the most active and promising 
fields of scientific inquiry, and physiologists delve hope- 
fully into the maze of proteins, nucleic acids, enzyme 
systems, and hormones of which protoplasm is composed 
to learn much about its complex structure and activities. 
Facts which they find can be interpreted in chemical 
terms, and there is no suggestion here of any mystical or 
superphysical agenL The possibilities before this grow- 
ing discipline are great, and its practitioners, undaunted 
by the unsolved problems which they must still encounter, 
believe that biochemistry holds the key which will unlock 
all the secrets of life. Such a belief gives support to a 
conception of the organism as a physico-chemical mecha- 
nism and thus to a materialistic approach to life's problems. 
This is the attitude of many biologists today and is ex- 
pressed in its more extreme form by writers like Lancelot 
>Hogben. 

A number of biological philosophers, impressed by the 
enormous complexity of life and the difficulties of ex- 
plaining it in mechanistic terms, have endeavored in vari- 
ous ways to avoid the extremes of both materialism and 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 9 

vitalism by finding some middle position which can 
accept the results of physiology and genetics "but still find 
room for freedom, purpose, and value. Notable among 
them are those who believe that the living organism in- 
troduces a new concept quite different from that of a 
physical mechanism or a mystical entdechy. Unless we 
study living things as integrated systems with character- 
istics and kws of their own, say these organkists, we 
shall never understand what life really is. This important 
idea, which would set up biology as an independent sci- 
ence and not merely a complicated kind of physics or 
chemistry, has found favor with many. Notable among 
them are J. S. Haldane, Bertalanffy, Ritter, and Smuts, 
who differ in the details of their theories but agree that 
the organism is the heart of the problem. As to just how 
this system is set up and persists, however, they have few 
suggestions to offer. 

A somewhat different philosophical approach is made 
by those who advocate what is called emergent evolution. 
They accept the truth of experimental determinism that 
similar conditions will always be followed by similar con- 
sequencessince without this science would lose meaning, 
but they point out that as evolution progresses, and as 
new conditions arise which have never been present be- 
fore, these will invariably be followed by new conse- 
quences. Such consequences, they believe, cannot be 
predicted from a knowledge of the conditions alone. 
This concept, first elaborated in detail by Lloyd Morgan, 
does away with the necessity of believing in a rigidly 



io CELL AND PSYCHE 

mechanical universe. It allows opportunity for novelties, 
for new phenomena and new principles; even for free- 
dom, since antecedent conditions are never precisely the 
same. Life can be regarded as such an "emergent/' Al- 
though it follows laws, these are laws of its own and not 
necessarily predictable from or determined by those of 
physics and chemistry. This theory has found favor with 
a number of biologists and has the obvious advantage of 
providing autonomy for life without interfering with 
physical determinism, as vitalism does, but it also pos- 
sesses certain logical difficulties, and its final contributions 
to biological philosophy are still uncertain. 

But while the physiologists have been busily at work 
applying the techniques and concepts of chemistry to an 
analysis of life processes, the physicists have been revo- 
lutionizing the whole conception of matter itself, and 
with most surprising results. Relativity and quantum 
mechanics have greatly altered our ideas of the physical 
universe. In the world of Planck and Heisenberg and 
Einstein the confident philosophical conclusions of the 
mechanists, however certain their experimental results 
may be, begin to sound a little naive. The matter on 
which materialism is based has become so tenuous that 
it seems hardly able to support the tough-minded philos- 
ophy of a Haeckel or a Loeb, and the men who approach 
philosophy from the physical sciences are much less dog- 
matic today than the biologists, as those who read Ed- 
dington and Jeans and Schrodinger well know. 

A number of distinguished physicists have speculated 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 1 1 

about the nature of life. Nils Bohr, for example, one of 
the notable pioneers in atomic theory, proposes another 
explanation for the gap between life and the non-living, 
which to many still seems so unbridgeable. He is im- 
pressed with the difficulty of reconciling classical mechan- 
ics with the newer quantum theories and suggests that 
they may be parallel and complementary ways of looking 
at the universe. Each has its own laws, each provides an 
orderly system of scientific facts, but neither can be de- 
rived from the other. He sees a resemblance here to the 
relation between physics and biology and postulates a 
similar complementarity between living systems and life- 
less ones. Each, he believes, is autonomous and has its 
own specific rules and principles, but the attempt to de- 
rive life from matter, to regard it simply as a complex 
physioxhemical system, he is inclined to think is a diffi- 
cult or even impossible quest. "The existence of life," he 
says, "must be considered as an elementary fact that can- 
not be explained, but must be taken as a starting point 
in biology, in a similar way as the quantum of action, 
which appears as an irrational element from the point of 
view of classical mechanical physics, taken together with 
the existence of elementary particles, forms the foundation 
of atomic physics." 8 This idea has received a respectful 
hearing, but it violates our deep desire to bring all nature 
into a single system, to make the universe truly one. Per- 
haps such a program is too ambitious, but scientists will 
not abandon it until they are forced to do so. 

* N. Bohr, "Light and Life," Nature, 131 (1933), 421-23, 457-59. 



12 CELL AND PSYCHE 

Another notable physicist, Erwin Schrodinger, looks 
for the solution of this problem in still undiscovered laws 
of physics. "We must not be discouraged," he says, "by 
the difficulty of interpreting life by the ordinary laws of 
physics. For that is just what is to be expected from the 
knowledge we have gained of the structure of living 
matter. We must be prepared to find a new type of 
physical law prevailing in it." 4 Science is young, and 
surely we have not yet discovered all the laws which gov- 
ern the universe. A century from now our present diffi- 
culties may well have been removed, though doubtless 
others, equally serious, will by then have arisen. 

So swing the tides of theory to and fro. From the vast 
amount of study and thought which have been given to 
the problem only one conclusion can be drawn with cer- 
tainty today we still are a long way from understanding 
what life really is. Man has not yet gone far enough 
along the roads of scientific discovery and of philosoph- 
ical insight to be able to answer the thronging questions 
which life raises. All that each of us can do is to adopt 
as a working hypothesis that one which seems most likely 
to give opportunity for further progress. We may be- 
come vitalists and undertake the almost hopeless task of 
learning something about entelechies. Or, following the 
now popular course, we may work as strict mechanists 
and endeavor to interpret all life, from bottom to top, in 
terms solely of matter and of energy. If neither extreme 
satisfies, we may follow some middle way like emergent 

4 E. Schrodinger, What If Life?, p. 80. 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 13 

evolution or complementarity, studying life by and for 
itself without trying to tie it to lifeless nature. Or finally, 
admitting that on the basis of our present knowledge of 
both facts and laws the problems of life seem insoluble, we 
may push out on every front in search of fresh facts, of 
adventurous hypotheses, of new principles as science ad- 
vances through the years, which may give us a clue as to 
the nature of living organisms. 

In this slender volume I shall add nothing to our store 
of scientific knowledge, nor can I hope to say anything 
very new about biology or its theories of life. Whatever 
novelty the present discussion achieves and whatever merit 
it may possess will come from its attempt to bring some 
of the concepts of biology in the narrower sense closer 
to those of psychology and of philosophy to help end 
what McDougall calls "the intolerably absurd state of 
affairs hitherto obtaining; namely, two sciences of the 
functioning of organisms, on the one hand mechanical 
biology, on the other psychology; two sciences completely 
out of touch with one another; the one ignoring the men- 
tal life of men and animals, the other trying vainly to 
relate it intelligibly to the bodily life." 5 From such a 
synthesis there may emerge a few ideas useful in answer- 
ing the difficult questions with which we began our dis- 
cussion. It is not, of course, the problems of theoretical 
biology as such which chiefly interest man or are signif- 
icant for his welfare, but the higher aspects of man's life 
which emerge from these. Such are problems of biology 

5 William McDougall, The Kddlc of Life, p. 265. 



14 CELL AND PSYCHE 

in its broad sense but of biology at a much higher level 
than that of the laboratory. If we can bring these loftier 
matters down to their common protoplasmic denomina- 
tors and find some problem which is basic to all of them, 
we shall help to clarify the great objectives which we seek 
and to bring unity into the search. If it is possible to 
disentangle from the throng of biological and psycholog- 
ical ideas, often seemingly so irrelevant and confusing, 
one main issue the key log in the jam we shall then 
be able to focus attention and investigation on this point, 
undistracted by minor and irrelevant details, and thus 
more hopefully approach our goal. I believe that such a 
basic problem does exist, that it touches the life of the 
mind and spirit as well as of the body, and that upon its 
solution depends not only our understanding of life in 
strictly biological terms but our ability to answer some 
of the deep questions which men so long have asked. To 
discover it and to explore its philosophical implications is 
the purpose of the following pages. 



CHAPTER I 

ORGANIZATION, 

THE DISTINCTIVE CHARACTER 

OF ALL LIFE 



THE UNIVERSE is turning out to be a far more surprising 
place than our grandfathers ever dreamed. The more 
we learn of it, the wider grows the realm of the unknown. 
Science, like Hercules, is coping with a Hydra and finds 
that for every problem which is solved, two new ones 
rise at once to take its place. "An addition to knowl- 
edge," says Eddington, "is won at the expense of an addi- 
tion to ignorance. It is hard to empty the well of Truth 
with a leaky bucket." 1 

In the last generation physics and chemistry and astron- 
omy have completely rebuilt our old ideas about the 
world of nature. Ancient solidities and certainties have 
disappeared. Matter and energy and space and time have 
taken on quite other aspects and seem to be subject to 
analysis at last only by mathematical subtleties. During 
this same half century the sciences of life have also made 
great progress, especially in the application of physical 
and chemical knowledge and techniques to biological 
problems; but there has been no such revolution here as 
that which shook the physical sciences so profoundly. 

1 A. S. Eddington, The Nature of the Physical World, p. 229. 



16 CELL AND PSYCHE 

Biology is far more complex than they, and for it there 
has not yet come a formulation of the new and radical 
concepts which are necessary before life can truly be 
understood. Protoplasm still confronts us as the most 
formidable of enigmas. 

But for all men life must nevertheless remain the ulti- 
mate problem. Around it, since. we ourselves are living 
things, center those great questions which have always 
stirred mankind most deeply: on the lower level food, 
sex, race, and other problems of our animal nature; on 
the higher, those ultimate questions as to the place and 
significance of man in the universe, as to his personality 
and its destiny, his freedom, and the meaning for him of 
love and beauty, of virtue and aspiration, of what he calls 
his spirit and its communion with the universe outside of 
him. The structure of the atom, the size of space, and 
the theory of relativity interest a few, but rarely stir men 
deeply. No one goes to the barricades in defense of 
E = me 2 . But those more vital matters, which reach into 
our hearts as much as into our minds, have set wars 
ablaze and banners flying and poets singing and mystics 
praying since the dawn of history. These are all prob- 
lems of life, and life is the ultimate mystery. 

Any satisfying philosophy must deal with these ques- 
tions, and to do so it must be rooted in the science of life 
itself, of life not only as we see it in man but as it is 
expressed in those far simpler organisms up and down 
the evolutionary scale. It is therefore biology in its 
widest sense, as the interpreter of life at every level, 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 17 

which will bring the richest offerings to philosophy. 
Tennyson's flower in the crannied wall, if we could really 
understand it, "root and all, and all in all," would in- 
deed solve for us the final mysteries of God and man, 
for these are the mysteries of life itself. 

What, then, can the biologist tell us about the curious 
phenomenon with which he deals? The nineteenth cen- 
tury produced the magnificent conception of life as dy- 
namic, changing, ever moving forward; of the history 
of the world as the great stage on which the drama of 
organic evolution is being enacted. But it also estab- 
lished the equally important conception that life has its 
physical basis in that remarkable material system which 
is called protoplasm. Here in this aggregation of pro- 
teinswatery, formless, and flowing, deceptive in its 
visible simplicity but amazingly complex in its ulti- 
mate organization are centered all the problems of 
living things. It is not greatly different chemically and 
physically in bacterium and orchid, in amoeba, arthropod, 
and man. Life is protoplasmic activity, and this is essen- 
tially the same from protozoan to primal Man is not 
only cousin to all living things by blood-relationship, but 
is built of the very same stuff as they. It is not of dust 
or clay that we all are made, but of proteins and^of 
nucleic acids. 

The task of the biologist is therefore to understand 
this remarkable living material. From it are built the 
beautiful and intricate bodies of plants and animals; in 
it centers the control which regulates the activities of 



i8 CELL AND PSYCHE 

these exquisite mechanisms; and out of it come the altera- 
tions which make possible all evolutionary change. Early 
biologists believed that there must be some sort of soul 
or atrima in every living thing, which governs it. A few, 
even in recent times, have been so much impressed with 
the complexity of protoplasmic activity, especially in its 
control of growth and development, that they adopt an 
essentially similar explanation and assume the existence 
of an entelechy or some other extra-physical agent which 
directs the activity of living stuff. Such a philosophy of 
vitalism, however, is now rarely asserted. Students of 
plant and animal physiology more commonly seek to ex- 
plain in physical and chemical terms alone everything 
that goes on in protoplasm. The recent rapid growth of 
biochemistry has made it possible to analyze into rela- 
tively simple processes so many vital activities that this 
mechanistic view of biology has been greatly stimulated. 
It looks at life as simply a particularly complex series of 
physical and chemical reactions, no different fundamen- 
tally from those in any material system. 

Protoplasm is a far more complicated affair, however, 
than biologists of a generation ago imagined it to be. An 
easy imitation, outside the organism, of some of the 
changes evident in living cells led them to the optimistic 
prediction that in a few years it would be possible even 
to synthesize protoplasm and produce a living thing. 
Such a triumph today seems farther away than ever. 
Physiologists have underestimated their protoplasmic 
opponent and have been obliged to withdraw, at least 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 19 

temporarily, from many advanced theoretical positions. 
Everything that we have learned about protoplasm in 
recent years testifies to a complexity in physical structure, 
chemical composition, and physiological activity within 
it far beyond that which its visible simplicity would lead 
us to expect; and when we realize that out of this re- 
markable stuff has come not only the protean plant and 
animal life of our globe but man himself, with the mag- 
nificent accomplishments and the sublime possibilities 
which are his, our respect for it should be profound. 
Protoplasm is a bridge anchored at one end in the simple 
stuff of chemistry and physics, but at the other reaching 
far across into the mysterious dominions of the human 
spirit. 

A recognition of the magnitude of the problem which 
confronts them has far from discouraged biologists. For 
its solution they have enlisted the aid of their own clans 
physiologists, morphologists, embryologists, geneticists, 
cytologists, microbiologists, and the rest and have called 
in powerful allies from chemistry, physics, and mathe- 
matics. Their successes have been notable. Hie electron 
microscope has delved so deeply into protoplasmic struc- 
ture that the genes themselves at last are visible. Some 
of the processes of metabolism, notably that of respiration, 
once thought to be f airly simple chemical exchanges, have 
been shown to involve many and complex steps and inter- 
actions and the mediation of a long series of enzymes. 
Growth and development in animals and plants are 
known to be affected by many chemical and physical 



20 CELL AND PSYCHE 

factors hormones, growth substances, organizers, bio- 
electric fields, light, temperature, and many others. Every 
living thing, even the humblest, is evidently a mechanism 
of the most remarkable and exquisite complexity. 

What, we may ask, is the essential character of this 
mechanism, the quality that best distinguishes it ? An ob- 
vious answer would be that it contains some substance or 
substances which make it what it is. This answer has 
often been given; and the increase in our knowledge of 
the chemical activities of living stuff and of the physiolog- 
ical importance of specific substances like the hormones 
has persuaded many biologists that the secret of life is 
indeed to be found in a persistent analysis of its biochem- 
ical behavior. 

Others, however, who see the difficulty of this concept 
if it is carried very far have come to realize that it is not 
the character of the constituents of a living thing but the 
relations between them which are most significant. An 
organism is an organized system, each part or quality so 
related to all the rest that in its growth the individual 
marches on through a series of specific steps to a specific 
end or culmination, maintaining throughout its course a 
4 delicately balanced state of form and function which 
tends to restore itself if it is altered. This is the most 
important thing about it. E. B. Wilson in a famous 
passage said that "we cannot hope to comprehend the 
activities of the living cell by analysis merely of its chem- 
ical composition. . . . Modern investigation has, how- 
ever, brought ever-increasing recognition of the fact that 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 21 

the cell is an organic system, and one in which we must 
recognize some kind o ordered structure or organiza- 
tion." 2 Woodger remarks that "biologists in their haste 
to become physicists, have been neglecting their business 
and trying to treat the organism not as an organism but 
as an aggregate. ... If the concept of organization is 
of such importance as it appears to be it is something 
of a scandal that we have no adequate conception of it. 
The first duty of the biologist would seem to be to 
try and make clear this important concept Some bio- 
chemists and physiologists . . . express themselves as 
though they really believed that if they concocted a mix- 
ture with the same chemical composition as what they 
call 'protoplasm' it would proceed to 'come to life.' This 
is the kind of nonsense which results from forgetting or 
being ignorant of organization." 8 Herbert Muller puts 
it well thus; "For the fundamental feet in biology, the 
necessary point of departure, is the organism. The cell is 
a chemical compound but more significantly a type of 
biological organization; the whole organism is not a mere 
aggregate but an architecture; the vital functions of 
growth, adaptation, reproduction the final function of 
death are not merely cellular but organic phenomena. 
Although parts and processes may be isolated for ana- 
lytical purposes, they cannot be understood without ref- 
erence to the dynamic, unified whole that is more than 
their sum. To say, for example, that a man is made up 

*K B. Wilson, The Cell in Development and Inheritance* p. 760. 
*J. H. Woodger, Biological Principles, pp. 281, 290. 



32 CELL AND PSYCHE 

of certain chemical elements is a satisfactory description 
only for those who intend to use him as a fertilizer." 4 

Through all the complexity which it is the task of the 
biologist to analyze thus runs one fundamental fact com- 
mon to every living thing: protoplasm builds organisms. 
It does not grow into indeterminate, formless masses of 
living stuff. The growth and activity shown by plants 
and animals are not random processes but are so con- 
trolled that they form integrated, coordinated, organized 
systems. The word organism is one of the happiest in 
biology, for it emphasizes what is now generally regarded 
as the most characteristic trait of a living thing, its 
organization. Here is the ultimate battleground of biol- 
ogy, the citadel which must be stormed if the secrets of 
life are to be understood. All else are outworks, easily 
open to energetic attack. But this central stronghold, we 
must ruefully admit, has thus far almost entirely resisted 
our best efforts to break down its walls. 

Organization is evident in diverse processes, at many 
levels, and in varying degrees of activity. It is especially 
conspicuous in the orderly growth which every organism 
undergoes and which produces the specific forms so 
characteristic of life. A coniferous tree, for example, such 
as a spruce or pine, though a loosely integrated plant 
individual in comparison to most animals, has a definite 
form, and its parts show a close coordination with each 
other. In each year's growth the central shoot is vertical 
and continues the axis of the trunk. The several side 

* Herbert J. Muller, Science and Criticism, p. 107. 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 23 

shoots, not as long, spread out almost horizontally. A 
definite pattern for the crown of the tree thus develops, 
the apical shoot growing faster than the branches, but 
the ratio between the two remaining essentially constant 
so that a regular conical shape is produced. If the young 
"leader" or terminal shoot is removed, one of the laterals 
swings up to take its place. This and other evidence 
indicates that the orientation and the relative growth of 
these side shoots are in some way under the control of the 
terminal bud. Other buds govern the growth of partic- 
ular parts or branches. The angles which these make 
with the trunk, the ratio of height to diameter in the 
trunk itself, the proportion of above-ground parts to the 
root system, and other measurable relationships tend to 
be maintained. Thus the whole tree is an organized sys- 
tem in which the character and amount of growth in one 
part is related to that in all the others so that a precise 
form is reached. Some of the agents involved in this 
control, notably the plant hormones, are known; but how 
they are distributed so precisely in space and time that 
such a coordinated system is produced we do not under- 
stand. The tree itself is the expression of this organizing 
control. 

A still more tightly organized system is evident in the 
developing animal embryo. The fertilized egg of a 
salamander is cleft into two cells by a vertical wall, then 
into four as one would quarter an apple, then horizon- 
tally into eight, and so on and on. If to our vision these 
changes are speeded up by time-lapse photography we 



24 CELL AND PSYCHE 

can witness how the tiny group of cells, through con- 
tinued cleavage, forms a partly hollow, spherical body; 
how the upper portion grows down over the yolk mass; 
how at one point the sphere is pushed in to make the 
primitive mouth; how above this the puckered neural 
folds mark out the position of the spinal axis; how they 
grow over to meet and form the neural tube; how at the 
sides the primitive gills appear; and how, step after step, 
the embryo moves swiftly on to form the young larva from 
which the mature salamander grows. Here is no random 
process but a steady march, each event in step with the 
rest as though to a definite and predetermined end. One 
gets an impression of some unseen craftsman who knows 
what he is about and who molds the mass of growing 
cells according to a precise plan. The young salamander 
seems to go through, before our eyes, an active progress 
toward a destination in a way which suggests its later 
movements of behavior, and not a merely passive unfold- 
ing. Here seems to be the expression in development of 
a constantly operating control which from the start and 
through all its precise steps from egg to adult maintains 
the embryo as an organized system. 

This strict coordinated progression in organic growth 
is everywhere manifest, though often in less dramatic 
ways. The very fact that living things, in their bodies 
and in the organs which constitute them, everywhere 
show constant and specific forms, is proof of this control. 
Form is simply the external and visible expression of the 
organizing activity of protoplasm and is thus perhaps the 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 25 

most distinctive characteristic of living things. As Need- 
ham has well said, the central problem of biology is the 
form problem. In a gourd fruit, for example, growth in 
length and in width proceed at different rates so that 
form, as indicated by the ratio of one dimension to an- 
other, is continually changing. What remains constant is 
the ratio of the growth rates. During the development o 
the fruit any two rates keep evenly in step with each 
other so that it is possible to predict the actual dimen- 
sions and the changing dimensional ratios, and thus the 
organic pattern, at any stage of growth. 

In the light of these facts it is impressive to look under 
the microscope at a thin slice of an early stage in such a 
developing fruit. Here one sees hundreds o tiny cells 
which by their constant division cause the organ to grow. 
The planes of these divisions the angle of each new 
partition wall which cuts a cell into two are in all direc- 
tions. Chaos here seems to reign. This is no chaos, 
however, but a cosmos, with events marching to a pre- 
cise destination, for the growth in the various dimensions 
of the organ which results from these divisions is beauti- 
fully coordinated. Some integrating control must here 
be operating. It is the nature of this control, of this 
fundamental organizing activity, which still eludes us 
and which constitutes the most formidable problem of 
biology. 

One could multiply indefinitely examples of this sort, 
since all development normally shows such organized 
behavior; but among the lowliest of fungi there is an 



26 CELL AND PSYCHE 

instance of this so remarkable that it illuminates the 
whole problem. In one group of slime molds (the 
Acrasiaceae} the individuals are single cells, each a very 
tiny and quite independent bit of protoplasm resembling 
a minute amoeba. These feed on certain types of bac- 
teria found in decaying vegetable matter and can readily 
be grown in the laboratory. They multiply by simple 
fission and in great numbers. When this has gone on 
for some time a curious change comes over the members 
of this individualistic society. They cease to feed, divide, 
and grow, but now begin to mobilize from all directions 
toward a number of centers, streaming in to each, as one 
observer describes it, like people running to a fire. Each 
center exerts its attractive influence over a certain limited 
region, and to it come some thousands of cells which form 
a small elongated mass a millimeter or two in length. 
These simple cells do not fuse, but each keeps its indi- 
viduality and freedom of movement. The whole mass 
now begins to creep over the surface with a kind of 
undulating motion, almost like a chubby worm, until it 
comes to a situation relatively dry and exposed and thus 
favorable for spore formation, where it settles down and 
pulls itself together into a roundish body. Now begins 
a most curious bit of activity. Certain cells fasten them- 
selves securely to the surface and there form collectively 
a firm disc. Others in the central axis of the mass be- 
come thick-walled and form the base of a vertical stalk. 
Still others, clambering upward over their comrades, 
dedicate themselves to the continued growth of the stalk. 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 27 

Up this stalk swarms the main mass of cells until they 
have risen several millimeters from the surface. These 
cells, a majority of the ones which formed the original 
aggregate, now mobilize themselves into a spherical mass 
terminating the tenuous stalk, which itself remains an- 
chored to the surface by the basal disc. In this terminal 
mass every cell becomes converted into a rounded, thick- 
walled spore which, drying out and blown away by the 
wind, may start a new colony of separate amoeba-like 
cells. In other species the structure is even more com- 
plex, for the ascending mass of cells leaves behind it 
groups of individuals which in turn form rosettes of 
branches, each branch terminating in a spore mass. In 
this process of aggregation, a group of originally iden- 
tical individuals is organized into a system wherein each 
has its particular function and undergoes a particular 
modification, some cells to form the disc, others the stalk, 
and others serving as reproductive bodies. 

Such an aggregation of distinct cellular individuals 
into an organized system may also be observed in cer- 
tain sponges. The living part of the body of such ani- 
mals, consisting of at least four different kinds of cells, 
can be broken up artificially and even passed through 
muslin, but the thoroughly disorganized mass of cells, if 
they are not injured in the process, will regroup them- 
selves in proper positions and produce a whole animal 
again. In some respects even more remarkable is a 
process which takes place among many insects, where the 
tissues of the caterpillar are broken down during the 



28 CELL AND PSYCHE 

pupal or cocoon stage into what appears to be a disor- 
ganized mass of "mush/' Out of this unpromising mate- 
rial the entirely different tissues and organs of the adult 
insect are gradually mobilized, a metamorphosis indeed, 
and one of the enigmas of biology. 

Such organizing behavior is somewhat different from 
that in most plants and animals since here all growth 
(increase in material) is finished before differentiation 
and development begin, but we can hardly doubt that 
the process which integrates this group of individuals or 
a mass of homogeneous material and transforms it into 
an organized biological society is the same as that which 
operates in the more familiar cases of growth and devel- 
opment by cell multiplication. In both there is the same 
orderly progression, the same close coordination of one 
part with the rest, the same march to a final goal. In 
both, to use Driesch's famous dictum, "The fate of a cell 
is a function of its position." In both, there is the same 
evidence of unifying control. Surely if we could under- 
stand what makes the tiny cells of a slime mold run 
together and build such a beautifully fashioned cell-state, 
where each is modified in a particular way which serves 
the whole, we should know much about the ultimate 
secret of life. 

The evidence of biological organization from these ex- 
amples of normal growth and development is greatly 
extended through studies by which these processes are 
experimentally modified, especially by removing certain 
parts of the growing body. When this happens the or- 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 29 

ganism shows a remarkable ability to regenerate its lost 
parts and restore a normal whole. Thus a "cutting," 
removed from a plant, under proper conditions will pro- 
duce a new root system and finally an entire individual 
with the normal proportion of root to shoot. Internal 
plant structures may also be restored. If a conducting 
bundle in the growing stem or leaf is severed, the two 
ends may be connected by the development, behind the 
cut, of a new bundle through the conversion of ordinary 
storage cells into specialized vascular ones. 

Some of the most remarkable examples of regeneration 
occur in animal embryology. Where the egg of a sea 
urchin or a frog, for example, at the beginning of devel- 
opment divides into two cells, these may be separata! 
from each other, and each, instead of producing half an 
individual, now grows into a whole one. The fete of 
each cell is now quite different from what it would have 
been if it had remained part of a two-celled embryo. By 
the reorganization of its material each regenerates a single 
whole animal. Such behavior, of which countless similar 
examples might be cited, is so difficult to explain on 
chemical or physical grounds that Driesch, less tough- 
minded than most biologists, was driven to assume the 
operation here of an entelechy or director. 

Regeneration is common everywhere in young, grow- 
ing organisms. The leg of a tadpole, snipped off, may be 
restored, or the eye of a crustacean. Mature animals also 
may regenerate, as in the familiar case of the angleworm 
in which, when the body is cut in two, the head end will 



30 CELL AND PSYCHE 

orm a new tail. Regenerative ability is by no means uni- 
versal, however, and is lost in most adult individuals or 
structures. In less highly organized systems, like most 
plants, it persists in certain more embryonic parts. Many 
cases are known where a single cell, from the surface 
layer of a leaf or elsewhere, may be induced to start inde- 
pendent development and to form an entire new indi- 
vidual. The general conclusion, with all its far-reaching 
implications, seems justified that every cell, fundamentally 
and under proper conditions, is totifotcnt^ or capable of 
developing by regeneration into a whole organism. 

In all these cases of regeneration the molding, coor- 
dinating, organizing activity of living stuff is emphasized. 
Here, as in normal cases, the ultimate result, the goal 
toward which development seems to move, tends to be a 
single complete organism, whatever may have been the 
vicissitudes of its developmental history. The organizing 
ability of protoplasm thus shown so dramatically in the 
processes of growth and development has long excited the 
interest of biologists. To answer the problems which it 
poses is the task of the science of morphogenesis, which 
endeavors to mobilize evidence and techniques for their 
solution from most of the other biological disciplines and 
from the physical sciences, as well. 

This same organizing control is evident not only in 
development but in the protoplasmic activities by which 
the life of the individual is maintained. Around a living 
creature is its unorganized material environment, a ran- 
dom mixture of many things. Certain of these, its food, 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 31 

arc continually being pulled into the organism, where at 
once they lose their random character and are built into 
the organized structure of a living system. Every plant 
and animal thus acts as an incorporating center which 
brings organic order out of environmental disorder. 

Such a living organism, however, is extraordinarily un- 
stable and sensitive to external conditions. It is an open 
system, and matter is continuously passing into it and 
out of it. It is the seat of innumerable chemical and 
physical changes incident to vital activity. And yet the 
very continuance of its life depends on the maintenance 
of relatively constant conditions within it of water con- 
tent, acidity, oxygen supply, a definite concentration of 
certain specific substances, and many more. This is not 
merely an equilibrium, a balance between forces. It is 
what the physiologists call a "steady state," and to mainr 
tain it the expenditure of energy is required. 3$Jjh 
maintenance of such a constant set of conditions, and 
death is the inevitable result of their dislocation. In such 
a complex and open system, the first requisite is evidently 
a means whereby the many activities are so regulated that 
the necessary balance is constantly restored as external and 
internal changes upset it, and the inevitable tendency to- 
ward disorganization is continually resisted. Here again, 
as in the processes of development, each part of the sys- 
tem must be closely tied to all the rest so that changes in 
one activity or in one region may be compensated by 
those in another. It is therefore very hard for a physiol- 
ogist to study any one activity by itself, a fact which 



32 CELL AND PSYCHE 

makes the practice of this science peculiarly difficult and 
has led to many erroneous conclusions. The particular 
level of physiological balance may change as development 
progresses, or as the environment is altered, but for each 
state or condition there is set up in the organism a norm 
or standard toward the maintenance of which its activity 
is constantly regulated. 

The most conspicuous and best known of these physio- 
logical regulations are those in the higher animals, par- 
ticularly the mammals, which must maintain a very 
constant internal environment. The precisely controlled 
bodily temperature of man and the warm-blooded ani- 
mals is a common example of this. Equally important^ 
though less familiar^ is the maintenance of uniform con- 
centrations of sugar and oxygen in the blood, and similar 
constancies. The control of these physiological processes 
is well described by Cannon in a notable book. 5 He pro- 
poses for this state of balance the term horneostasis. The 
way in which this is maintained under changing condi- 
tions, and the ability of the body to regulate its vital 
processes so very delicately, is surely one of the most re- 
markable phenomena displayed by living things. 

Such regulations are familiar in man and the higher 
animals, where the mechanisms involved are chiefly the 
nervous system and glands of internal secretion. Living 
cells which are far less specialized, however, are also 
capable of such self-regulation. Among plants, for ex- 
ample, the hydrogen-ion concentration (acidity) in the 

* W. B. Cannon, The Wisdom of the Body. 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 33 

sap of cells of a given tissue is often very closely main- 
tained despite external change. The concentration of 
various dissolved chemical substances in particular cells 
may also be kept very near to a given level under widely 
varying external concentrations. These are essentially the 
same sorts of regulations as in homeostasis but involve no 
nervous mechanism. 

A remarkable fact about organic regulation, both de- 
velopmental and physiological, is that, if the organism is 
prevented from reaching its norm or "goaT in the ordi- 
nary way, it is resourceful and will attain this by a dif- 
ferent method. The end rather than the means seems to 
be the important thing. The significance of such facts 
for an interpretation of biological organization is obvious. 

The maintenance of an organized self-regulating sys- 
tem seems to be a general attribute of protoplasm, but 
such manifestations of organization as have here been 
discussed are not by any means a necessary accompani- 
ment of all life. The beautifully coordinated living sys- 
tem sometimes suffers a grievous loss of organization. 
Tumors, cancers, malformations, and innumerable ab- 
normalities of growth in plants and animals are evidence 
that the organizing control is sometimes relaxed. Its 
most radical modification is shown by certain types of 
cells which may be cultured indefinitely in a nutrient 
solution and there multiply and grow into shapeless 
masses of tissue. Such cells remain alive and show cer- 
tain physiological regulations, since a complete lack of 
organization would bring death; but they are unable to 



34 CELL AND PSYCHE 

produce a formed organism where each cell has its par- 
ticular structure and function, depending on its place in 
the whole living system. 

There are evidently various levels of organization, some 
of which are subordinate to others in a kind of hierarchy. 
A cell is one such level, and the processes which go on 
within it maintain a certain independence; but cells are 
organized into tissues, tissues are grouped into organs, 
and organs into individual organisms. This organization 
may be very loose, as in certain lowly plants where most 
of the cells are alike and the individual can hardly be 
distinguished from a colony; the mass may be more 
closely tied together, as in a tree, where there is an in- 
definite number of leaves and branches but a general pat- 
tern for the whole; or it may be very tightly organized, 
as in most individual animals. 

Organization, however different in degree, is primarily 
a matter of relations. Harrison well describes it thus: 
*Tarticulate units at any level are not wholly independent 
of one another. The relations of particles are part of 
the system and it is their behavior in relation to one an- 
other that constitutes 'organization/ . . . No particle or 
unit can be clearly understood or its behavior predicted 
unless its reactions with others are taken into con- 
sideration." 6 

An understanding of how this organization is set up 
and maintained is the biological problem to which every 

6 R. G. Harrison, Cellular Differentiation and Internal Environment, Publi- 
cation 14, American Association for the Advancement of Science, p. 77. 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 35 

other is subordinate and contributory. Whatever reper- 
cussions it may have upon other fields of human inquiry, 
it is thus primarily a task for the student of biology in 
the broadest sense and must be undertaken on his terms. 
These terms may have to be enlarged, and we may need 
to learn the use of new methods of attack upon the prob- 
lem, but it is life that we are seeking to understand, and 
life is the province of biology. As Needham warns us, 
"Organization is not something mystical and inaccessible 
to scientific attack. ... It is for us to investigate the 
nature of this biological organization, not to abandon it 
to the metaphysicians because the rules of physics do not 
seem to apply to it." 7 

There have been many attempts to solve the problem 
of organization. For some biologists this presents no diffi- 
culty, and is simply the question of how such a regular 
tory mechanism has arisen in evolution. During its long 
course, only those variations which were useful in sur- 
vival persisted, and through this age-long trial and error 
the nice adjustments of part and process gradually were 
developed, by chance favorable mutations, until the pres- 
ent beautifully coordinated organic systems were pro- 
duced. Surely, these men contend, organization must be 
something which has thus evolved. That it is not in- 
trinsic in protoplasm is proven by the fact that it is often 
lost in cases of abnormal growth. 

This evolutionary explanation is an obvious one, but 
it has its difficulties. It can hardly make clear, for ex- 

T Joseph Nccdham, Order and Life, pp. 7 *7- 



36 CELL AND PSYCHE 

ample, how the power of regeneration could have been 
acquired. There seems little likelihood that all the great 
variety of injuries and losses which a plant or animal can 
now repair (including those produced experimentally 
and which almost certainly would never be suffered in 
nature) have occurred in its ancestry so frequently that 
natural selection has had a chance to develop organisms 
able to repair them. To account for correlative changes 
such as would be required in the development of a regu- 
latory mechanism has always been a major difficulty for 
the theory of selection. 

Organizing relations are easy to observe and measure 
but are very difficult to explain physiologically. It is 
much easier to deal with substances, and in attempting to 
understand organization biologists have therefore thought 
more often in chemical than in physical terms. They 
have frequently postulated specific formative materials, 
hopefully expecting that these in some way would trans- 
late themselves into organizing relationships. Particularly 
significant among such are the various growth substances, 
regulators, and hormones which in recent years have been 
so intensively studied in plant and animal physiology. 
Among plants, for example, the effects of auxin have 
been found to be very numerous and important. It is 
concerned with cell enlargement, cambial activity, bud 
inhibition, root formation, leaf fall, and other activities, 
and thus markedly affects the development of the plant. 
But it is evident that auxin cannot do all these things 
by itself. It is the agent, the messenger, by which they 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 37 

are accomplished; but the beautifully coordinated results 
must come from the presence of just the right amount 
of auxin, at just the right place, and at just the right 
time. Something must control the auxin, must act as 
the headquarters from which the chemical messengers 
are dispatched. Here is the real problem. "When we 
discover," says J. S. Haldane, "the existence of an intra- 
protoplasmic enzyme or other substance on which life 
depends, we are at the same time faced with the question 
how this particular substance is present at the right time 
and place, and reacts to the right amount to fulfill its 
normal functions." 8 Moreover the secret of the action of 
such a substance lies not primarily in itself but in the 
specific organization of the cells upon which it acts. 
Auxin no more makes roots than a nickel makes a tune in 
a juke box. It simply sets in motion the activity of an 
organized system. Not the nickel or the auxin holds the 
secret, but the structure of the system itself. 

The amphibian "organizer" postulated by Spcmann is 
an example of the same difficulty. A bit of the roof of 
the primitive mouth of the young salamander embryo 
grafted almost anywhere on the body of another embryo 
will start a new embryonic axis and thus may make the 
animal a double one, like a Siamese twin. This bit of 
living tissue was thought to have in itself important or- 
ganizing powers; but soon other agencies, simple chem- 
ical or physical factors, were found which had essentially 
the same effect, and Spemann himself finally admitted 

* J. S. Haldane, The Philosophic Basis of Biology, p. 79. 



38 CELL AND PSYCHE 

that his "organizer" was but a stimulus, an evocator, and 
that the real problem of organization lies in the respond- 
ing system, in the living stuff itself, and not in the 
trigger which sets this off. Such chemical explanations 
of organization, despite the enthusiasm with which they 
have been sought, have not thrown much light upon the 
problem. Probably not many biologists today would agree 
with Julian Huxley's optimistic prediction in 1933 that 
we were then on the verge of reducing the organizing 
powers of a living thing to a chemical formula and stor- 
ing it in a bottle. 

The beautiful structure of chemical molecules, espe- 
cially in the proteins with their great size and complex- 
ity, has suggested that the form and organization of a 
living thing may in some way be determined by that of 
the specific proteins it contains. It is hard, however, to 
picture a mechanism which would bring this about. 
Baitsell and others have gone even further and suggested 
that the organism is itself a gigantic molecule and that 
the forces which integrate it are the same as those which 
hold together and organize atoms. 

Biophysicists have also offered their explanations. Gur- 
witsch, impressed by the fact that the fruiting bodies of 
many fungi, constant and specific in their forms, are pro- 
duced by a tangled mass of apparently similar fungus 
threads, believes that a formative "field" exists around 
the developing structure. Whence this arises and how it 
operates he is not clear. This general criticism can be 
made of most field theories proposed by other biologists. 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 39 

More concrete, however, is the suggestion of Burr and 
Northrop, 9 who believe that the secret of organization lies 
in the presence of a characteristic bioelectrical field in and 
about a living individual, which controls its development 
They state the problem in terms of the physics of fields 
rather than of particles. This is a stimulating idea and 
well worth developing, but it is difficult to picture ex- 
actly how it operates in terms of what we now know 
about the activities of living things. 

Physiological regulation is better understood than that 
in development and is known to be related to the activity 
of specific chemical substances. This regulation is ex- 
tremely delicate, as any one administering insulin well 
knows, for there is always danger from too much or 
too little. The normal system, however, controls blood 
sugar automatically and with beautiful accuracy, an ex- 
traordinary accomplishment considering all the things 
that might go wrong and upset it. We are reminded of 
Henderson's remark that "sooner or later ... we come 
upon the fact that a certain organ or group of cells 
accomplishes that which is requisite to the preservation 
of the equilibrium, varying the internal conditions accord- 
ing to the variation of the external conditions, in a man- 
ner which we can on no account at present explain." 10 

One of the most spectacular attempts to account for 
organic regulation-has recently come from the engineers. 
Automatically controlled machines have long been far 

9 H. S. Burr and F. S. C. Northrop, "The Electro-dynamic Theory o 
Life," Quarterly Review of Biology, X (i935)> 322-33. 
10 L. J. Henderson, The Order of Nature, p. 86. 



40 CELL AND PSYCHE 

miliar, but their complexity has been raised to an ex- 
traordinary degree in the production of the electronic 
calculator. This is a truly amazing device consisting of 
thousands of radio tubes connected in a complex fashion 
by which, almost instantly, huge sums can be manipulated 
and calculations made which would take a corps of com- 
puters years to perform. Such a calculator can store in- 
formation for later use and thus possesses the rudiments 
of memory. The principle on which it is built may make 
possible, its inventors believe, the construction of a ma- 
chine which will answer abstruse questions and may be 
said to display some degree of ability to reason. Properly 
constructed it might even play a moderately good game 
of chess! Dr. Wiener 11 has shown the marked similarities 
between the behavior of such a machine and that of the 
nervous system and believes that the key to a knowledge 
of the latter lies in the principles developed in these cal- 
culators and especially in the so-called "feed-back** mech- 
anism. We must salute those who have built machines 
which have such fantastic possibilities for the service of 
man. One may question, however, whether these artifacts 
really give us more than an instructive analogy with proto- 
plasmic regulation. After all, we are not made of tubes, 
wires, and gears, but of protein molecules. Our bodies 
are a triumph of chemical, not mechanical, engineering. 
The electronic calculator may grow into an accomplished 
robot, but one doubts if it can have an original idea or 
write a beautiful sonnet, as protoplasmic systems can. 

11 Norbert Wiener, Cybernetics. 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 41 

We must frankly admit, I think, that, despite our in- 
genious experiments and speculations, no adequate expla- 
nation of biological organization is forthcoming* Despite 
all the advances in a knowledge of physiology and of the 
physical and chemical character of living stuff, such a 
solution seems to be almost as far away as ever. Biology 
has made enormous strides in the study of processes, of 
the successive series of chemical changes whkh go on in 
protoplasm; but these organizing relations which living 
things display present a much more formidable problem, 
and it may be that some new idea, some great generaliza- 
tion comparable to that of relativity for physics, will be 
necessary before we shall be able to understand the true 
nature of protoplasmic systems, so deceptively simple to 
outward view but the seat of that complex organized 
activity which is life. 

The fact of organization has so impressed some biol- 
ogists that they are even inclined to rank it as one of the 
basic facts in the universe. Thus L. J. Henderson, a 
biochemist who thought deeply in these matters, says, 
"I believe that organization has finally become a category 
which stands beside those of matter and energy." 12 Need- 
ham, in somewhat the same vein, writes: "Organization 
and Energy are the two fundamental problems which all 
science has to solve/' 18 This is not far from the concept 
of complementarity proposed by Bohr. The important 
implications of these ideas are obvious. 

im L. J. Henderson, The Order of Nature, p. 67. 

11 Joseph Needhaxn, rime: The Refreshing Kver, p. 33. 



42 CELL AND PSYCHE 

Our problem, though first the task of the biologist, 
must evidently transcend his domain and enter that of 
philosophy. The list of philosophers who have under- 
taken to deal with it is considerable. Most notable among 
them, perhaps, is Whitehead, who based an important 
part of his system upon the fact of organization, not only 
in living things but throughout the universe. Biology 
for him is the study of the larger organisms and physics 
that of the smaller ones. The notion of particle he would 
replace by the notion of organism. 

Whatever we may think of these deep matters, it is evi- 
dent that organization as one sees it in living things is 
a very real fact, explain it how we will. In any problem 
dealing with life it must be taken into account. The 
hypothesis which I wish to propose here is that in the 
regulatory and organizing processes in protoplasm lies 
the foundation of what are called the psychological or 
mental activities in animals and especially in man. From 
a study of it some interpretations will suggest themselves 
which may help toward the solution of those great prob- 
lems which were posed at the beginning of our discussion. 



CHAPTER II 

BIOLOGICAL ORGANIZATION 

AND 
PSYCHOLOGICAL ACTIVITY 



WE HAVE UNDERTAKEN the ambitious task of drawing from 
the resources of the life sciences some ideas useful in the 
construction of a satisfying life philosophy, and to this 
end have attempted first to discover what is the most 
distinctive character of all life, that which most sharply 
marks it off from lifeless things. What relation is there, 
you may ask, between the rather technical discussion of 
this question in the preceding chapter and the profound 
problems to which we addressed ourselves at the beginr 
ning? These were problems about life, to be sure, but 
life in its uppermost reaches, life expressed not in body 
but in mind, in purpose, in aspiration, in those mani- 
festations of it which we call the spirit of man. What 
have the biological facts explored here to do with these 
higher phenomena of life ? Is there anything to be learned 
from life at its lowest levels which may help toward an 
understanding of its loftiest ones ? We shall find, I think, 
that there is, and I now propose to explore the possibility 
that what is called biological organization may indeed 
be the foundation upon which rest these highest aspects 
of the life of man. 



44 CELL AND PSYCHE 

It is characteristic of living material, as has been 
shown, that the organisms which it builds grow by orderly 
progression from one step to the next so that a definite 
series of bodily structures with specific forms and inter- 
relationships are produced, and that physiological equilib- 
ria within them are maintained by constant regulatory 
adjustments. This progressive, organized, and integrative 
character of life, its conspicuous and distinctive quality, 
is most commonly recognized in the development and 
physiological activity of the body, but it bears a remark- 
able resemblance to phenomena which are admittedly 
psychological. There have not been lacking biologists 
from time to time who, at the risk of being called vitalists 
and visionaries, have drawn attention to this resemblance 
between the developmental and the psychological activ- 
ities of living things, between the facts of growth and 
those of behavior. The embryologist Spemann, in the 
last paragraph of his book on embryonic development, 
says: "Again and again terms have been used (in this 
book) which point not to physical but psychical analogies. 
This was meant to be more than a poetical metaphor. It 
was meant to express my conviction that the suitable 
reaction of a germ fragment, endowed with the most 
diverse potencies, in an embryonic 'field,' its behavior in 
a definite 'situation,' is not a common chemical reaction, 
but that these processes of development, like all vital 
processes, are comparable, in the way they are connected, 
to nothing we know in such a degree as to those vital 
processes of which we have the most intimate knowl- 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 45 

edge, viz., the psychical ones. It was to express my opin- 
ion that, even laying aside all philosophical conclusions, 
merely for the interest of exact research, we ougfct not 
to miss the chance given to us by our position between 
the two worlds." 1 

In the same vein the zoologist E. S. Russell writes: 
"The directiveness of vital processes is shown equally well 
in the development of the embryo as in our own conscious 
behaviour. It is this directive activity shown by indi- 
vidual organisms that distinguishes living things from 
inanimate objects." And again: 'The fact is that the com- 
mon ground of both organic and psychological activity 
lies in the directiveness or 'drive* which is characteristic 
of both. We must regard directiveness as an attribute not 
of mind but of life. . . . Purposive activity, as seen in 
its highly developed form in the intelligent behaviour of 
man, is a specialized and elaborated kind of directive 
activity, concerned mainly with the mastery of his mate- 
rial environment.** 2 

Herbert Muller puts the idea very well thus: '"Pur- 
pose* is not imported into nature, and need not be puzzled 
over as a strange or divine something else that gets inside 
and makes life go; it is no more an added force than mind 
is something in addition to brain. It is simply implicit 
in the fact of organization, and it is to be studied rather 
than admired or 'explained.' ** s 

It is to Ralph Lillie that we owe an especially extensive 

1 H. Spemann, Embryonic Development and Induction, p. 371. 
*E. S. Russell, The Directiveness of Organic Activities, pp. 178-79- 
* Herbert J. Muller, Science ttnd Criticism, p. 109. 



46 CELL AND PSYCHE 

discussion of this problem. "The general conclusion to 
which we arc led by these considerations,'* he says, "is 
that in living organisms physical integration and psychical 
integration represent two aspects, corresponding to two 
mutually complementary sets of factors, of one and the 
same fundamental biological process." And again: "Con- 
scious purpose, as it exists in ourselves, is to be regarded 
as a highly evolved derivative of a more widely diffused 
natural condition or property, which we may call 'direc- 
tiveness.' . . . This psychical integration, so characteristic 
of the living organism on its conscious side, implies the 
existence of a parallel physical integration, the two form- 
ing together a psychophyskal unity In the character- 
istic unification of the organism an integrative principle 
or property is acting which is similar in its essential nature 
to that of which we are conscious in mental life/* 4 

What impresses these thinkers is the striking resem- 
blance between the progressive, regulatory, and (as Rus- 
sell says) "goal-directed" processes of development and 
physiological activity, on the one hand, and on the other 
die phenomenon of purpose, of the drive toward an end, 
which is the basis of most mental or psychological activ- 
ities. Life is not aimless, nor are its actions at random. 
They are regulatory and either maintain a goal already 
achieved or move toward one which is yet to be realized. 
A developing embryo, especially if its growth is speeded 
up by time-lapse photography, certainly loot(s as if it were 

* Ralph S. Lfllie, The Gencrd Biology sad Philosophy of Organism, pp. 50, 

196, 200, 201. 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 47 

moving toward a goal which it is bound to reach in spite 
of the obstacles which we may put in its way to test the 
intensity and resourcefulness of its "purpose." Needham's 
phrase, "the striving of a blastula to grow into a chicken," 
may be a figure of speech, but to some minds it is not 
far from actual truth. 

In all such questions we are forced to leave the com- 
fortable certainties of the laboratory and plunge into the 
twilight zone of speculation, where fact and fancy are 
hard to distinguish from each other but where the shapes 
of great ideas, tantalizingly vague, move among the shad- 
ows. Such speculations are often frowned upon by scien- 
tists and the tough-minded generally, and they do lead 
all too easily to absurdities which tempt one from the path 
of orderly thinking. Many will smile, I am sure, at the 
speculations which I shall here propose. But we should 
lose our fear of being too unorthodox. Adventurous 
hypotheses to deal with unexplained facts are one of the 
chief lacks in a world which has piled up more data than 
it has been able to digest; and speculation, so long as it 
is intelligent and based on a modicum of established fact, 
is to be encouraged and may well lead to insights into 
nature which would not be open to those who never stray 
from the bounds of orthodox thinking. **We are in dan- 
ger," says Woodger, "of being overwhelmed by our data 
and of being unable to deal with the simpler problems 
first and understand their connexion. The continual 
heaping up of data is worse than useless if interpretation 
does not keep pace with it. In biology this is all the more 



48 CELL AND PSYCHE 

deplorable because it leads us to slur over what is char- 
acteristically biological in order to reach hypothetical 



'causes.'"* 



The possibility of a relation between development and 
purpose between biology and psychology is such a 
speculation. I confess to being attracted by it, for it pre- 
sents an opportunity of unifying our ideas of life at all 
levels, and of providing some hopeful answers for at least 
a few of man's great and ancient philosophical difficulties. 
I ask the reader's forbearance, therefore, while the argu- 
ment is pushed a bit further than has usually been done. 

Tbc position which I propose to defend the thesis I 
am nailing to the cathedral door is briefly this: that bio- 
logical organization (concerned with organic develop- 
ment and physiological activity) and psychical activity 
(concerned with behavior and thus leading to mind) arc 
fundamentally the same thing. This may be looked at 
from the outside, objectively, in the laboratory, as a bio- 
logical fact; or from the inside, subjectively, as the direct 
experience of desire or purpose. In the present chapter I 
should like to explore this position with some thorough- 
ness, and in the final one to consider what implications 
k may have for the problems which Were posed at the 
start of our discussions. 

A conscious purpose and the development of an em- 

> bryo appear at first sight to be so unlike that a comparison 

between them seems preposterous. One is an experience 

in vivid, focal consciousness and is centered in the vast 

1 J. H. Woodgcr, Biologic* Principles, p. 318. 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 49 

complexity of the tissues of the brain. The other is cer- 
tainly not a conscious process in the usual sense of the 
word and is rekted to no particular tissue but is an attri- 
bute of the entire organism. Both, however, are biolog- 
ical activities, phenomena of life, and to compare them 
profitably we should therefore first reduce both to their 
lowest common denominator, protoplasm itself. The 
activities of nerve cells, the central nervous system, and 
the brain, structures with which we chiefly associate all 
forms of psychical activity, may for the moment be dis- 
regarded. This is neither the time nor the place to 
discuss the origin of the nervous system, but good evo- 
lutionists can hardly fail to admit that it must have risen 
to its present highly developed state from very simple 
beginnings and presumably from unspecialized proto- 
plasm in response to requirements for survival of motile 
organisms in a complex environment. This conclusion 
is supported by the fact that the lowest animals and the 
entire plant kingdom lack a nervous system entirely (or 
any specialized nervous mechanism) and yet are able to 
perform, albeit in a sluggish and primitive fashion, most 
of the activities which in higher forms are under the con- 
trol of nervous tissue. As Bergson says, we need not 
assume that consciousness "involves as a necessary condi- 
tion the presence of a nervous system; the latter has only 
canalized in definite directions, and brought up to a 
higher degree of intensity, a rudimentary and vague 
activity, diffused throughout the mass of the organized 
substance." 6 To talk about "mind" in a bean plant or a 



50 CELL AND PSYCHE 

protozoan, or even in a worm, may seem absurd, but it 
is more defensible than trying to place an arbitrary 
point on the evolutionary scale where mind, in some 
mysterious manner, made its appearance. We are deal- 
ing here with a quantitative and not a qualitative 
difference* 

All living stuff has definite resemblances to nervous tis- 
sue. Protoplasm is irritable, will respond in character- 
istic ways to stimuli from without. Even a naked mass 
of it like an amoeba moves slowly about and is con- 
tinually reacting to the presence of food, water, oxygen, 
and mechanical factors in a manner quite comparable to 
that of higher organisms equipped with specialized sen- 
sory and jnotor nerves. Even plants, the most static of 
living things, will respond to environmental changes by 
characteristic growth movements or tropisms. The region 
which receives the stimulus here is often not the one 
which shows the response, proving that the stimulus can 
be transferred from one place to the other though not 
through nerves or other specialized cells. Even more like 
an animal's reaction is the behavior of Mimosa, the well- 
known "sensitive plant" The stimulus of mechanical 
shock at the leaf tip causes the leaflets of this plant pro- 
gressively to fold together, and finally the whole leaf 
bends sharply downward. The course of this reaction 
takes but a few seconds, and a study of its electrical cor- 
relates by Burr 7 shows its remarkable similarity to a nerv- 
ous response. 

T H. S. Burr, "An Electrometric Study of Mimosa," Yak Journal of Biol- 
ogy and Medicine, XV (1943), 823-29. 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 51 

The effect of past events in modifying present activity, 
the essential feature of what we call habit and memory 
in psychological terms, is also evident in organisms with- 
out a nervous system. As Jennings has shown, protozoa 
are teachable and learn to reject harmful substances 
after a few trials. Even plants can acquire specific 
rhythms, like those of the u sleep" movements of their 
leaves, which depend on the duration of light and dark 
periods, and these "habits" will survive for some time 
after the external rhythm has ceased. 

Mind, of course, involves far more than a reception of 
stimuli and response to them. What goes on between 
these two events, in the highly organized nervous system, 
is obviously of the utmost consequence. Here originate 
the desires, purposes, emotions, and other aspects of 
psychical life, together with conceptual thought and the 
highest developments of intellect. In a famous argument 
between Jennings and Loeb many years ago, the former 
showed that a single-celled protozoan (Paramccium), 
far from being at the mercy of its surroundings and re- 
sponding invariably to their stimulation, behaves very 
differently depending on its particular physiological state 
at a given time. Whether, for example, it will swim to- 
ward light or not seems to depend in large measure on 
whether it is hungry or full-fed. In any living thing this 
organized system, this coorduSating rngchanism which 
regulates behavior in conformity with some established 
standard or goal, this decisive intermediary that stands 
between sensation and reaction, is the basis of purposive 



53 CELL AND PSYCHE 

behavior and thus ultimately of mind itself, My argu- 
ment is that this system is the same as that which 
coordinates all other vital activities, notably those of 
development and function. 

Superficially the resemblance between the mental and 
the developmental is close enough so that the case for 
their identity seems not too implausible. But let us not 
underestimate the momentous character of such a con- 
clusion. To admit that the developmental norm, standard, 
or "goal" set up in a growing organism is a manifestation 
of the same control that guides its behavior, that it is in 
effect a very primitive purpose, is to grant my whole 
argument Concede this, and most important and sig- 
nificant conclusions will follow* Deny it, and the entire 
hypothesis falls to the ground* This is the decisive step. 
Here, and not in the upper reaches of the psychical, I 
believe, must be fought out the major philosophical 
battle* The issue is primarily a biological one, and un- 
less it is explored as such we shall never finally come to 
grips with it It is therefore worth most careful scrutiny. 

First, let us examine what is meant by a norm or goal 
or "purpose** in organic development It must evidently 
be a set of conditions or relations, in living substance, 
which in its operation in space-time results in a progrcs- 
'sivc series of specific embryonic forms culminating in 
that of the adult An understanding of the means by 
which this is accomplished is at the heart of our prob- 
lem. Hie most familiar example of such a develop- 
mental norm is the genetic constitution of a cell like the 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 53 

fertilized egg, the living substance of which must have a 
very specific constitution and organization, for out of it 
comes a very specific organism. Various suggestions 
were made in the past as to what this constitution is, but 
we now know that its most important component is a 
series of genes which control the processes of develop* 
ment. In each race these have a definite distribution 
among the chromosomes of the nucleus, and in most 
species the genie constitution of every cell seems to be 
identical. Sometimes, as we have seen, almost any cell 
of the body is capable, under favorable conditions, of pro- 
ducing an entire individual. The problem of gene action 
is being vigorously investigated and with encouraging 
success; but certainly one of the major enigmas of biol- 
ogy is how these thousands of genetic units, scattered at 
random throughout the chromosomal complement of 
every cell, cooperate with such amazing nicety and pre- 
cision that a complex and highly coordinated individual 
is produced. Innumerable chemical reactions, accurately 
timed and located, must be involved Here the problem 
of organization is presented most vividly. There must 
certainly be some sort of controlling mechanism, struc- 
ture, or system in the egg (and doubtless in every cell) 
which definitely foreshadows the character of the par- 
ticular organism into which it will develop or of which 
it forms a part It is this organization, whatever it may 
turn out to be in terms of matter and energy, space and 
time, which, as experienced by the organism, I believe to 
be the simplest manifestation of what in man has become 



54 CJBZ-L. AMU 

conscious purpose. Just as the form of the body is imma- 
nent in the egg from which it grows, so a purpose, yet 
to be realized, may be said to be immanent in the cells 
of the brain. 

Physiological regulation shows the same sort of in- 
ternally organized directiveness toward the maintenance 
of a specific condition, a steady state. The remarkable 
processes in homeostasis have already been discussed, by 
which the various components and conditions of the body 
are precisely maintained. Any change in them at once 
calls forth a corresponding increase in an opposing proc- 
ess and thus keeps the steady state in delicate balance. 
Shenington has well described these orderly changes 
which go on within a cell. "We seem to watch battal- 
ions of specific catalysts," he says, "like Maxwell's 'de- 
mons,' lined up, each waiting, stop-watch in hand, for its 
moment to play the part assigned to it, a step in one or 
other great thousand-linked chain process. ... In the 
sponge-work of the cell, foci coexist for different opera- 
tions, so that a hundred, or a thousand different processes 
go forward at the same time wit-bin its confines. The 
foci wax and wane as they are wanted. . . . The proc- 
esses going forward in it are cooperatively harmonized. 
The total system is organized. The various catalysts work 
'as o>oniinately as though each had its own compartment 
in the honeycomb and its own turn and time. In this 
great company, along with the stop-watches run dials 
telling how confreres and their substrates are getting on, 
so that at zero time each takes its turn. Let that catas- 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 55 

trophe befall which is death, and these catalysts become 
a disorderly mob and piril the very fabric of the cell to 
pieces. Whereas in life as well as pulling down they 
build, and build to a plan.'* 8 

It is this building to a plan which is so characteristic 
of all life. Such a physiological plan, refined and far 
more complex in the cells of our nervous system but 
essentially like the developmental plan, I believe is that 
which in man can be experienced as conscious purpose. 
Its roots are deep in the regulatory behavior of proto- 
plasm. Homeostasis is not simply a curious process in 
physiology. It is the satisfaction of our most basic desires. 

It is clearly impossible, of course, to speak of conscious 
purpose at such a primitive level as this, or even of con- 
sciousness at all. From such humble beginnings, how- 
ever, the consciousness which we experience so vividly 
must have arisen. In some unexplained fashion there 
seems to reside in every living thing, though particularly 
evident in animals, an inner, subjective relation to its bod- 
ily organization. This has finally evolved into what is 
called consciousness. Such an inner relationship is most 
evident in the sensations experienced when nerves are 
stimulated, its origin evidently going back to the begin- 
ning of the stimulus-response reaction in the simplest of 
living things. I ask you to consider the possibility that 
through this same inner relationship the mechanism 
which guides and controls vital activity toward specific 
ends, the pattern or tension set up in protoplasm which 

* Sir Charles Shcrrington, Man on His Nature, pp. 78, 70. 



56 CELL AND PSYCHE 

so sensitively regulates its growth and behavior, can also 
be experienced, and that this is the genesis of desire, pur- 
pose, and all other mental activities. 

Incidentally, this inner relationship gives us a great ad- 
vantage in a study of the life of man, an advantage which 
should be exploited to the utmost Each of us is inside a 
living organism. The usual method of science is to ob- 
serve from the outside, objectively. All of our knowledge 
of plants and animals has come in this way; and, strictly 
speaking, so has what we know of other human beings. 
Behaviorism emphasized this laboratory method of study- 
ing psychology as all-important Surely the preferred 
position which we occupy in our own systems ("between 
the two worlds," as Spemann says), our ability to fed 
what a complex organism is like, can tell us much about 
ourselves and, by inference, about our fellows and even 
the animals which could not be discovered in any other 
way. "TTie biologist," as Jennings says, "has a more inti- 
mate access to a certain sample of his material, for he is 
himself that sample. Through this fact he discovers cer- 
tain things about the materials of biological science that 
he cannot discover by the other method alone. . . . He 
finds that the things to be studied by the biologist in- 
clude emotions, sensations, impulses, desires. . . . Thus 
die biologist has two sets of data, discovered in somewhat 
different ways, one set being discoverable only through 
the fact that the biologist is himself a biological speci- 
men/'* Eddington believes that "consciousness, looking 

* H. S. Jennings, The Universe taid Ufa pp. 9, 10. 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 57 

out through a private door, can learn by direct insight 
an underlying character of the world which physical 
measurements do not betray." 10 The information thus 
gained through our own inner experiences is much more 
vague, however, than that which comes from the labo- 
ratory and is far less open to measurement and exact 
analysis. It depends in no small degree on our particular 
physiological state at the time it is rendered. Because of 
this, scientists have always been suspicious of introspec- 
tion as a reliable basis of knowledge about life and man. 
For biology to ignore the reports from this inner observer, 
however, or to deny their importance or even their reality, 
is to give up any attempt to understand life as a whole. 
These subjective experiences must ultimately be the con- 
cern of the biologist as much as are the actions of genes 
or the chemical nature of hormones. Biology will need 
to widen its borders for this purpose and to call into 
consultation its colleagues in other fields of knowledge, 
but it cannot disregard such experiences if it is finally to 
tell us what life really is. In our present speculations, 
therefore, and particularly in any consideration of desire 
and purpose, we are justified in gaining whatever knowl- 
edge we can from introspection. It may be that the 
present hypothesis can help to reconcile the conflicting 
inner and outer aspects of man. 

At this point some hard-headed objector will no doubt 
arise and ask why, if purpose is simply the subjective 
side of the operation of a regulatory mechanism, we 

10 A. S. Eddington, The Nature of the Physical World* p. 91. 



5 8 CELL AND PSYCHE 

should not speak of a thermostat or a gyroscope as hav- 
ing a "purpose" (quite apart from the purpose for which 
it was made). Certainly one of the new electronic cal- 
culators with its vast complexity and beautifully regula- 
tory behavior ought at least to have a purpose, if not a 
soul, of its own! Indeed, a suggestion not very different 
from this has recently been made by Norbert Wiener, 
who looks forward to bigger and better machines which 
will to all intents display purpose, memory, and some 
ability to learn and reason. If all this is so, continues our 
objector, why clutter up the argument with talk of psy- 
chical factors? Purpose is obviously the accompaniment 
and result of a fundamental physico-chemical mechanism, 
and this mechanism is our only real problem. 

He may well be right One can reduce my argument 
to absurdity by suggesting that a stone, pushed from the 
top of a hill, has the "purpose" to roll downward, or that 
a stretched bow has the "purpose" to shoot an arrow. 
Any physical system which operates under natural forces 
may be said to have a purpose to perform whatever 
changes are by necessity latent in the system. A piece of 
fireworks has a definite structure which results, when it 
is set off, in a specific pattern of moving light. Is not a 
"purpose" to do this present in the pattern of powder and 
fuses? The step seems not a long one from such a struc- 
ture to the mechanism of a living cell, vastly more 
complex but still a mechanism, in which a precise physico- 
chemical pattern (or "purpose") is bound to unfold in a 
precise and regulated fashion. Here is involved the 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 59 

whole problem of the nature of a living organism. If 
this is a mechanism of the sort with which science is 
familiar, its internal pattern, somehow capable of being 
felt in experience, can well be interpreted as a purpose. 
This is the position of all mechanistic philosophy, which 
regards the psychological event as secondary and merely 
the result of a physical one. But we should remember 
that the living mechanism is one of a very special kind 
and that its organization, and thus the origin of psycho- 
logical phenomena, may involve principles not yet dis- 
covered. An advantage of the hypothesis here presented 
is that it can be accepted by either the materialist or the 
idealist as a sound interpretation of purposiveness. It 
does not take sides. It implies neither mechanism nor 
teleology, fate nor freedom, but simply attempts to tic 
together, as identical, the biological and the psychological 
events. Which philosophical theory-Hoaechanistic, ideal- 
istic, or other will ultimately best explain the facts de- 
pends on what the nature of biological organization 
ultimately turns out to be. Here is where the real issue 
lies. 

But the phenomena of development and of psychology 
are not quite as far apart as they would appear to be if 
one limits oneself to the extreme expressions of each. 
Growth, physiological reaction, and true behavior form 
an ascending series the steps in which grade into each 
other imperceptibly, and my argument, I think, is meas- 
urably strengthened by this fact 

It has often been said that function is the correlate of 



60 CELL AND PSYCHE 

structure. In any living system one cannot separate the 
processes of growth which lead to the development of 
die body from those by which the life of the body is 
maintained. Both are physiological activities, and changes 
involved in growth are essentially the same as those con- 
cerned with the maintenance of vital activities and the 
repair of tissues* Some are centered in or controlled by 
nerve cells but many arc the activities of other types of 
cells or of unspecialized protoplasm. It is equally hard 
to separate some of these physiological processes from 
true behavior; from activities, in other words, which are 
commonly held to be psychical in their character. Is 
breathing, for example, a physiological process or is it a 
part of the way an animal behaves? The instinctive 
activity of die simplest organisms seems to be far closer 
to the physiological than to the mental level. One does 
not usually speak of instincts in plants, though many of 
their reactions, such as the tropisms, differ little from the 
instincts of the simplest animals. Animal instincts range 
from the simplest sorts of reactions in the lowest groups 
of invertebrates to the complex and marvelous ones of 
the bees and ants and reach up toward the essentially 
rational activities of the higher vertebrates. 

The close relation of developmental activities to these 
instinctive and behavioral ones has been stressed by Berg- 
soa and others. "We cannot say," he writes, "as has 
often been shown, where organization ends and where 
instinct begins. When the little chick is breaking its shell 
with a peck of its beak, it is acting by instinct and yet 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 61 

it docs but carry on the movement which has borne it 
through embryonic life." 11 

Lillie makes much the same point. "Development," 
he says, "has been compared with instinctive activity by 
many biologists, and instincts have their close affinities 
with conscious behavior. The development of an egg 
into the adult animal is a sequence of biological activity 
which has much in common with such an instinctive 
performance as the building of a nest; in both cases there 
is an integrated sequence of morphogenetic or structure- 
forming activity/' 12 

The regulatory character of instinct is obvious. An 
animal usually tends to act, under normal conditions, in 
ways that will insure its survival and reproduction. It 
avoids enemies, captures food, seeks a favorable habitat, 
and in other ways adjusts its reactions to the environment 
in a manner favorable to the maintenance of its own life 
and the perpetuation of its species. In this respect the 
similarity between these simple types of animal behavior, 
on the one hand, and biological organization as ex- 
pressed in development and physiology, on the other, is 
striking and seems to be fundamental The primary 
reason for the rise of higher types of psychological be- 
havior, culminating in mind, seems to have been the ne- 
cessity of speedy regulatory reaction to insure the survival 
of a motile organism in a complex and changing environ- 
ment. Here the sensations received are numerous and 

11 H. Bergson, Creative Evolution, p. 165. 

ia Ralph S. Lillie, General Biology and Philosophy of Organism, p. 172. 



6a CELL AND PSYCHE 

varied and the number of possible reactions to them is 
very great To determine just which of these reactions 
should be made to insure survival and a successful life 
required a series of specialized cells and finally a rather 
elaborate central nervous system. The more complex 
problems the species was called upon to meet, the more 
highly developed this system became, reaching its climax 
with the brain, active consciousness, and high intellectual 
ability of man. Consciousness must mean something. 
We shall agree with Henderson, I think, when he says 
that "consciousness was never produced in the process of 
evolution merely as an impotent accompaniment of re- 
flex action." 13 William James has put the matter well 
thus: "Primarily," he says, "and fundamentally, the men- 
tal life is for the sake of action of a preservative sort. 
Secondarily and incidentally it does many other things." 14 
This "action of a preservative sort," it seems to me, is 
the same kind of action that is found in physiological 
regulation and the coordinated control of life processes 
generally. The latter are less obvious and spectacular 
than the reactions seen in behavior, but both are activities 
of an organized protoplasmic system. If the primitive 
purpose to survive is the basis of all psychical behavior, 
the argument, I think, is sound that such behavior, and 
thus all mental life, is anchored in the general regulatory 
activity of living stuff, whether this is in behavior or 
in development 

11 L. J, Henderson, The Order of More, p. 93. 
"William James, Psychology, p. 4. 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 63 

One might present evidence from many fields in sup- 
port of this contention, but only a few examples will be 
offered here. 

Mental development in its unfolding often presents a 
series of steps as precise and predictable as those in em- 
bryonic development. Gesell in his classic studies of 
infant behavior shows that the progressive steps in a 
small child's psychological development fall into a defi- 
nite pattern and that these earliest instinctive reactions, 
the beginnings of the life of his mind, are simply a con- 
tinuation of the biological (embryonic) activities which 
brought it into being. The mind has a morphogenesis as 
well as the body, and both have a definite biological 
basis. " 'The mind' may be regarded as a living, grow- 
ing 'structure,'" says Dr. Gesell, "even though it lacks 
corporeal tangibility. It is a complex, organizing action 
system which manifests itself in characteristic forms of 
behavior in patterns of posture, locomotion, prehension, 
manipulation, of perception, communication, and social 
response. The action systems of embryo, fetus, infant 
and child undergo pattern changes which are so sequen- 
tial that we may be certain that the patterning process 
is governed by mechanisms of form regulation the same 
mechanisms which are being established by the science 
of embryology, . . . The growth of tissues, of organs 
and of behavior is obedient to identical laws of develop- 
mental morphology. . . * Already many of the current 
morphogenetic concepts have more than vague analogy 
to psychical processes: embryonic field, gradient theory. 



64 CELL AND PSYCHE 

regional determination, autonomous induction, potency, 
polarity, symmetry, time correlation, etc/* 15 Surely this 
is strong support for my contention. 

In the later part of the organic cycle there are also 
resemblances between body and mind. It is well known 
that during its early stages development is much more 
adaptable than it afterward becomes. Often each cell at 
its beginning is capable of growing into an entire indi- 
vidual, if isolated. As the organism gets older this 
capacity to regenerate becomes more and more restricted 
until in most animals it is lost altogether save for such 
activities as the renewal of worn-out structures and the 
healing of wounds. A cell which in the early stages 
can develop into almost anything suffers a progressive 
reduction in its potencies until at last there is only one 
fate in store for it instead of many possible ones. The 
similarity between such progressive restrictions in develop- 
mental potency and the losses in mental plasticity and 
adaptability with increasing age again suggest a common 
basis for both. 

A similarity between biological and psychological or- 
ganization exists even in the manner in which they 
become disorganized. Neither is perfect or infallible. 
As has been mentioned, the beautifully regulated prog- 
ress of embryonic development, which usually marches 
so precisely toward its destined goal, may sometimes be 
grievously deranged. The disorganization of mental 
processes resembles that of bodily ones in so many re- 

" A. GeseH, Studies in Child Development* pp. 54, 55. 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 65 

spects as to suggest that both arc the result of disturb- 
ances in fundamentally similar mechanisms. 

Finally, from quite a different quarter, support for the 
present hypothesis comes from the concepts of Gcstalt 
psychology. I am not competent to discuss these in de- 
tail, but the basic position of this theory is that sensations 
are not separate and independent things, each nerve cell 
carrying a specific message which is unrelated to any 
other message, but that there is a spontaneous and com- 
pulsory grouping of them into patterns (Gestalten). 
These have not arisen from chaotic jumbles of sensation 
by slowly acquired experience, but are there by virtue 
of the organizing capacity of the nervous system itself. 
As Kohler says: "Organization in a sensory field is some- 
thing which originates as a characteristic achievement of 
the nervous system*'; and again: "The organism is not 
barren functionally; it is not a box containing conductors 
each with a separate function; it responds to a situation, 
first, by dynamical events peculiar to it as a system and, 
then, by behavior which depends upon the results of that 
dynamical organization and order." 16 In other words the 
nervous system is morphogenetic It organizes its chaotic 
data into forms, patterns, wholes. This is most readily 
recognized in visual patterns. In a series of apparently 
meaningless lines an observer will often see particular 
forms which stand out from the rest. In a puzzle where 
one is told to "find the elephant,** for example, suddenly 
from the tangle of lines the figure of an elephant stands 

W. Kohler, Gcsttdt Psychology, pp. 174, 180. 



66 CELL AND PSYCHE 

sharply out Such patterns arc seen as wholes and at 
once, not as groupings of units. This formative, organ- 
izing capacity of nervous tissue which shows itself in the 
integration of sensations into wholes bears, it seems to me, 
a striking resemblance to the formative capacity of proto- 
plasm generally, as expressed in development and co- 
ordinated maintenance. It certainly is evidence of a basic 
similarity between the physical and the psychological 
elements of protoplasmic behavior. Gestalt psychology 
is one aspect of what may well be called Gestalt biology. 
You will perhaps ask what relation there may be be- 
tween our present hypothesis and the one proposed by 
several writers, notably Samuel Butler, that heredity and 
memory are fundamentally the same and even that re- 
generation is a kind of "remembering." These ideas, 
especially at the time when they were presented in the 
challenging form which Darwin's great antagonist knew 
how to use so well, attracted much attention. Even to- 
day Unconscious Memory is good reading. But the great 
advances in biology since Butler's day, and especially the 
development of modern genetics, make it clear that he 
was mistaken. It seems certain today that what is in- 
herited is a series of genes, well insulated from external 
change, and that these do not accumulate a record of 
the bodily alterations acquired by the organism during 
its life in the way that its nerve cells acquire a memory 
of past events or a habit which these induced. There is 
a resemblance between Butler's ideas and those here pre- 
sented only in that both regard biological and psycholog- 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 67 

ical facts as having a common basis. Our hypothesis sees 
in purpose, however, rather than in memory, the process 
common to life and mind. 

One might well extend the argument further, but per- 
haps enough evidence has been presented to convince the 
reader that the simplest types of psychological activity bear 
so many resemblances to the organizing processes of pro- 
toplasm, as manifest in the regulatory character of all 
vital activities, that it is at least reasonable to regard them 
as having a common basis and origin. But many, I am 
sure, are ready to remind me that it is not tropisms and 
instincts and the behavior of plants and the lower animals 
which chiefly interest us. Man is the only organism we 
wish to explore; man, the flower and summit of the evo- 
lutionary process; man, the possessor of intelligence and 
rational thought, and subject^ therefore, to those doubts 
about his nature and destiny which have so troubled his 
kind from the beginning. The arguments here presented 
are of significance, perhaps, for biologists and genetic psy- 
chologists, but what do they tell us, one may ask, about 
the upper reaches of man's mind and those higher quali- 
ties of his spirit which set him up above the brutes? 
What relation does biological organization have to this 
vividly conscious, thoughtful life of ours? 

The only answer I can offer is the old one of upward 
evolutionary change. Most will concede that man's mind 
as well as his body has ascended to its present high estate 
from humble origins in lower forms of life. Reason and 
abstract thought, the possession chiefly now of man alone, 



68 CELL AND PSYCHE 

have evidently come from the simpler psychical life of 
his ancestors. The steps through which this has been 
accomplished one can guess by observing the behavior of 
the higher vertebrates and particularly the members of 
the primate stock. Perhaps, as Bergson believes, the de- 
velopment of man's intellect and capacity to reason has 
resulted from his use of tools, a trait not shared by other 
animals. This has enabled him to see relationships 
among objects outside his own body and to recognize 
uniformities in nature and the existence of causes and 
their effects. Out of this has grown the ability to reason. 
The power of imagination endows him with the capacity 
of abstract thought which has proven so vastly important 
to his progress. One cannot minimize the tremendous 
importance of this development of man's mind to himself 
and to the world, for the advantage it gave him has set 
him above the rest of animate nature far more than his 
very modest bodily attainments would ever have done. 
It is hard to see in it anything qualitatively new, how- 
ever. The argument still stands up that intellect is sim- 
ply a very complex expression of the regulatory character 
of all protoplasmic activity. Secondarily, as James says 
in the quotation of a moment ago, the mind does many 
other things. These are of the greatest significance for 
our lives, but from the viewpoint of evolution they are 
indeed secondary to its major biological function. 

When we come to the origin of man's spiritual quali- 
tieshis love of beauty, his aspirations to virtue and god- 
liness, his yearning for understanding qualities which 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 69 

have been the hope and despair of his race, we are con- 
fronted by a more difficult question. Whence have such 
traits arisen? They seem, indeed, to be something new 
among living things. Most of them arc either unknown 
among the lower animals or represented there only in 
rudimentary fashion. They are surely most significant 
and worthy of study, and evidently tell much about the 
complex biological systems which we are. These I shall 
discuss more fully in the concluding chapter. 

Finally, another serious objection to my whole argu- 
ment will occur to many. The goal of biological develop- 
ment is a single complete organism. Its attainment and 
maintenance in a given state fulfill the primitive "pur- 
pose" in the egg. What relation can there be between 
such a single, persistent goal and the stream of thoughts 
and purposes which make up man's rich conscious life? 
If mind indeed is at bottom a glorified expression of the 
organizing power of protoplasm, how can we explain its 
constantly changing content, its vast versatility? 

This is not an easy question, but I believe it can be 
answered. The stream of consciousness, to be sure, is far 
more complex than the plodding, single-track purposive- 
ness of development. Nevertheless, the latter process is 
not as limited as it often appears. A single organism is 
its goal, or a specific functional state, and the persistent 
drive to attain this goal despite all obstacles is the most 
significant thing about life. The exact character of the 
organism produced, however, will depend, in some meas- 
ure at least, on the environment in which it develops. 



TO CELL AND PSYCHE 

There is a variety of primrose, for example, which will 
produce white flowers if grown in a warm greenhouse, 
but red ones in a cooler one. Here the end, the goal, the 
"purpose," is quite different depending on the temper- 
ature at which development proceeds. The small vinegar 
fly, Drosophila, which is such an important animal for 
modern genetics, can be grown under experimental con- 
ditions as to temperature, food, and other environmental 
factors quite different from those met in normal develop- 
ment; and when this happens, individuals may be pro- 
duced which are markedly unlike the typical flies. The 
literature of genetics is full of such examples. 

In all these cases the genetic constitution of the organ- 
ism is not changed, but the way in which this expresses 
itself in development is very different depending on the 
conditions under which development takes place. Genet- 
ics has learned that most genes are not ones "for" certain 
characters but that what each will do depends on the 
internal and external conditions under which the gene 
operates. It has not one role but a whole repertoire. 
Physiological equilibria, delicately maintained under one 
environment, may also change their levels as conditions 
change. 

The relation of these changing developmental goals to 
a stream of conscious thoughts is not too remote, for 
psychological goals also change as the environment 
changes. A simple animal like a mollusk, anchored in 
one spot or moving but slowly, is adjusted to a relatively 
stable environment When this is altered, it changes 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 71 

accordingly, but the number of necessary alterations is 
slight. Its "purposes" are few and constant. Its "men- 
tal" life must be sluggish in the extreme! An insect, 
moving about much more rapidly and exposed to a far 
more varied environment, is continually adjusting its 
inner state to these changes and has a far more complex 
psychical activity, as its well-developed nervous system 
indicates. The mental life of man, however, has been 
stepped up to so much higher a level that it seems to be 
quite different in character from that of animals. His 
environment is vastly more complex than theirs not only 
because of the development of his intellect and social rela- 
tionships but because he responds to symbols pictures 
and the spoken and written word. Among civilized men 
the number of symbols and the reactions they induce 
the ideas they convey are exceedingly numerous and for 
many persons are among the most important factors in 
the environment. Beyond all this, man possesses an abil- 
ity which further enriches the life of his mind and sets 
him sharply apart from the brutes: he can conjure up 
before him, so to speak, images of events in the past or 
in the possible future, hypothetical conditions, assumed 
relations. Thus in the quiet of his chamber, physically 
at rest and subject to no change in his surroundings, he 
can indulge in that highest of intellectual activities, ab- 
stract thought. In the mind of an artist there may arise 
the idea for a great picture, and without this idea any 
collection of paint and canvas is meaningless. These are 
among those secondary qualities of the mental life of 



73 CELL AND PSYCHE 

which James speaks. Memory, imagination, and abstract 
thought, the ability to bind the past and future into the 
present and to single out and manipulate particular quali- 
ties or relations in the environment, these are great ac- 
complishments and enrich the mental life of man far 
above that enjoyed by any other animal. How this 
is accomplished psychologists cannot tell us. How we 
arc able to say, lo, I will close my eyes and fill my mind 
with the sensations and actions and experiences of yester- 
day, or with a picture of events which I should like to 
bring to pass tomorrow this is still a mystery. In the 
terms of our present thesis, however, the mystery is one 
of protoplasmic mechanics, for each of these ideas, these 
thoughts, these mental pictures is ultimately resolvable, 
I believe, so far as its mechanism is concerned, into the 
same sort of an organized norm or goal as is found in 
die protoplasmic system which controls and regulates 
development Ideas were presumably desires or purposes 
at first and expressed themselves directly in action; but 
such psychological events do not necessarily lead to action. 
A continuous stream of them may fill the mind without 
producing any visible physical changes in the body. The 
wish may thus indeed be father to the thought. 

Interpreted in terms of the present hypothesis, there- 
fore, the whole conscious life of man, rich in ideas, in 
inspirations, in intellectual subtleties, in imagination and 
emotion, is simply the manifestation of an organized bio- 
logical system raised to its loftiest levels. Upon this the 
outer world impinges as a series of sensations, real or 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 73 

imagined, and out of it come actions, either actual phys- 
ical responses or the more subtle ones of the mind. What 
takes place between these events is, at bottom, the regu- 
latory activity of the protoplasmic system. In its lowliest 
expression this appears as regulatory control of growth 
and function. This merges imperceptibly into instinct, 
and from these simplest of psychical phenomena grad- 
ually emerge the complex mental activities of the higher 
animals and finally the enormously rich and varied life 
of the mind and spirit of man. At no point is there a 
sudden break, a radical innovation. The complex has 
come from the simple by a gradual process of evolution- 
ary progression. The basic phenomenon from which all 
this ultimately arises, the fact that living things are 
organized systems, is the fundamental problem, still un- 
answered. Upon its solution will depend our under- 
standing not only of biology and psychology but of the 
whole of man. 

Such is the statement of my hypothesis. There is noth- 
ing very novel about it, for ideas of this sort have often 
arisen in the minds of biologists and philosophers, though 
no one, perhaps, has pushed them to quite the extremes 
that I propose to do. They are highly speculative and will 
seem nebulous and of little meaning to many hard-headed 
scientists. They suffer, too, from a certain psychological 
naivete, for one can hardly hope to explain the vast com- 
plexity of man's mind in such short space without over- 
simplifying the problem. We have set out, however, to 
try to bring the facts of biology and psychology under a 



74 CELL AND PSYCHE 

single aegis, and I believe that the hypothesis here pre- 
sented offers a defensible attempt. These ideas would be 
interesting and worth pursuing for their own sake and 
their relation to the sciences of life and mind; but their 
chief importance, it seems to me, is in their bearing on 
some of the great problems of man's nature and his rela- 
tion to the universe, problems which have troubled him 
from the beginning and which were set before us at the 
start of these discussions. The significance of such a con- 
cept of life and mind for the solution of these problems 
I shall discuss, albeit most inadequately, in the final 
chapter. 



CHAPTER III 



SOME IMPLICATIONS FOR 
PHILOSOPHY 



IN THE FIRST CHAPTER the conclusion was reached that the 
fact of organized growth and activity, leading to the 
production and maintenance of those self-regulating struc- 
tures so appropriately called organisms, is the most dis- 
tinctive feature of living things. In the second, your 
attention was called to the close resemblance between 
this biological organization, on the one hand, and desire, 
purpose, and the higher phenomena of mental life, on 
the other. I then tried to persuade you that these two 
are manifestations of the same underlying fact, whether 
observed from the outside by a biologist studying an 
organism or experienced from the inside by the organism 
itself. 

Such a hypothesis may be interesting as a philosophical 
speculation, one will say, but what can it do to answer 
the questions we asked ourselves at the beginning of these 
discussions? Can it lead to any new insight into the 
nature of life, especially as expressed in the remarkable 
species to which we belong, and into our relationship 
with the rest of the universe? I believe that it can. My 
concluding task is to present reasons for this belief and 



j6 CELL AND PSYCHE 

to discuss six such problems upon which the hypothesis 
here proposed may throw some light. 

The first of these is one which has tormented man 
throughout his history: the relationship between those 
two parts of h*\ which seem so vastly different his body 
and his mind. These evidently have much to do with 
each other, but just how are they related ? Is the body- 
tough, tangible, and material the part of a man which is 
truly real and the mind but a curious result of physical 
forces only, an epiphenomenon, something that rides 
along on the crest of the material wave but has no con- 
trol over it, no existence independent of it? Such has 
been the belief of many men through the ages, and such 
is the creed of scientific orthodoxy today, confident in 
matter, suspicious of all else. Or is mind, with those 
deeper feelings which accompany it, the essential member 
of the pair, autonomous, ruling matter, and in some mys- 
terious way the true and permanent reality, and all else 
illusion? Yes, say the poets, the dreamers, the believers, 
those who walk by faith, not by sight. Whichever is 
dominant, this vexing dualism, splitting man in two, has 
>long wrought confusion in his thinking. But if the view 
of life which I have presented is correct, such dualism is 
apparent only, and not real. Body and mind are simply 
two aspects of the same biological phenomenon. The 
first is no more real than the second, for they are one. 
The pulling together of matter into an organized living 
system is what we feel as a mental experience. 

The advantage of this point of view is that it does not 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 77 

commit us to the position of either the materialist or the 
idealist. It simply asserts that there is one basic problem, 
common to both, which must be solved before we can 
understand either. The materialist may well maintain 
that this view is a sound one and essentially what he has 
always believed. Since matter and energy in his opinion 
are the only true realities in the universe, to assert that 
what we know as mind is nothing but the organizing 
process in the development of those material systems 
which living things are, is to admit the truth of his posi- 
tion that mind is simply one expression of the activity of 
such a system. The profound effects of drugs upon men- 
tal phenomena of all sorts, the clear relation between 
specific regions of the brain and psychical states, and the 
notable achievements of neurophysiology generally all 
lend support to such a view. 

But this hypothesis, if carried to its logical conclusion, 
makes such severe demands that the idealist may fairly 
entertain a doubt as to whether matter and energy, in the 
traditional sense, can satisfy them. If material changes re- 
lated to the processes of growth and function account for 
mental changes as well, and if the simpler desires and 
purposes are thus rooted in the regulatory character of 
protoplasm, we cannot restrict the responsibility of this 
material system but must expect it also to explain the 
highest qualities and triumphs of the mind. These are 
as much an expression of protoplasmic integration as the 
form of a leaf or the growth of an embryo. The organ- 
izing capacity of living stuff so clearly manifest at the 



78 CELL AND PSYCHE 

lower biological levels is equally effective far above them 
and is the source of new ideas, of high aspirations, of 
lofty flights of the creative imagination; the means, in- 
deed, by which man launches out into the deep and chal- 
lenges the unknown universe. Surely matter and energy 
which can thus come to flower must be more than the 
simple things which the student of the physical sciences 
sometimes considers them. Indeed, our respect for the 
complexities and possibilities of the material world has 
vasdy increased during the past generation, largely be- 
cause of the labors of some of these physicists. The 
possibility emerges that instead of matter and energy 
explaining life, life as a very special category of the 
physical universe may in time make contributions of its 
own to our knowledge of matter and energy. Genetics 
and physiology have thus already posed new problems 
for the physical sciences. Needham remarks that "em- 
pirical discoveries on the purely biological level thus serve 
as stimuli to the physiologist to investigate processes 
which his methods alone would never have revealed in 
the first place." 1 J. S. Haldane goes even further: "As 
the conception of organism/* he writes, "is a higher and 
more concrete conception than that of matter and energy, 
science must ultimately aim at gradually interpreting the 
physical world of matter and energy in terms of the bio- 
logical conception of organism.** 2 Hie English mathe- 
matician and philosopher J. W. N. Sullivan agrees. Says 

1 Joseph Needham, Order and Ufa p. 22* 

* J. S. Haldane, Ucchawsm, Life **d Persond&y, p. 98. 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 79 

he: "It is possible that our outlook on the physical uni- 
verse will again undergo a profound change. This change 
will come about through the development of biology. If 
biology finds it absolutely necessary, for the description 
of living things, to develop new concepts of its own, then 
the present outlook on 'inorganic nature* will also be 

profoundly affected The notions of physics will have 

to be enriched, and this enrichment will come from 
biology." 3 

If this is true, is it not possible that, in like manner, a 
study of those qualities of the human spirit which we 
regard as the highest expressions of life may throw light 
upon problems which neither biology nor the physical 
sciences alone could ever solve? 

Such speculations are perhaps of little merit now, but 
in this ancient problem of the mind and the body it is 
not without value to remember, whatever our views about 
riiCTfi may be, that they have a common denominator, a 
fundamental similarity, and that whatever commerce 
there is between them is based upon this fact A drug 
affects a mental process, or an emotion a physiological 
one, not directly and specifically but through its influ- 
ence upon the entire organized system. The rise of psy- 
chosomatic medicine is a recognition of the fact that the 
entire individual, mind and body, is the important entity 
in health and disease, and that no one part can suffer or 
be ministered to without affecting all the rest. Hie 
patient is a biological system, not a collection of organs 

* J. W. N. Sullivan, The Limitations of Science* pp. 188, 189. 



8o CELL AND PSYCHE 

and symptoms. This system is the unity, the synthesis 
of the mental and the material, because both are aspects 
of it, and an understanding of what such a living system 
is and how it works will ultimately solve the ancient 
enigma which we have been discussing. 

The second problem for an understanding of which 
the hypothesis here presented may be useful is that of 
motivation, of the desires and purposes which drive us 
on and which are the foundation of all mental life. We 
have discussed the similarity between the regulatory 
character of development and physiological activity, on 
the one hand, and that of behavior, instinct, and conscious 
purpose, on the other. A standard, norm, or goal set up 
in living stuff but still to be reached creates the desire for 
its attainment; and if this attainment is prevented, or if 
the equilibrium is thrown out of balance, the organism 
experiences unease, pain, or distress of body or mind. 

The desire to reach such a goal can hardly be separated, 
at the lower levels, from the purpose to do so. Around 
this idea of purpose there has long raged one of those 
philosophical polemics which touch a problem so funda- 
mental and so difficult that it seems to defy solution. 
Aristotle distinguished efficient causes, which produce 
effects through direct and evident physical means, from 
find ones, which are goals or purposes in the mind and 
effective through man's moving toward them. Final 
causes, as it were, leap across a gap to accomplish their 
effect and seem not to require the operation of any mech- 
anism. It is the existence of this type of cause which 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 81 

science often has so strenuously denied, since it seems to 
involve a mysterious non-mechanical, non-material agency. 
If I wish a cup of coffee and pour it out, the real cause 
of this action is not the purpose which exists in my mind, 
says the psychologist, but a complex chain of physical and 
chemical steps in my nervous system. Purpose is often a 
"fighting" word nowadays. Whitehead remarks rather 
quizzically that scientists who are animated by the pur- 
pose of proving that they are purposeless are an interest- 
ing subject for study. An advantage of the hypothesis 
which I have here been defending is that it eliminates the 
antithesis between efficient and final causes since what 
appears in the mind as a purpose, later to be realized in 
action, is the same thing as the physiological, protoplasmic 
norm or "goal" set up in the brain and coming to realiza- 
tion through a series of regulatory processes. 

Such a hypothesis, it seems to me, if it is sound, would 
dispose of the difficulties involved in the concept of final 
causes and teleology generally* This has long been the 
bogey of the scientist, particularly of the biologist, since 
it is often carelessly invoked to explain natural phe- 
nomena. The plant is sometimes said to grow toward the 
light "for the purpose" of illuminating its leaves, or be- 
cause the plant "needs" light to make food. It is clear 
that to call such behavior purposeful and to fail to point 
out to the student the physiological mechanisms involved 
and the long evolutionary history that lies behind them 
is vastly to oversimplify the problem in his mind and to 
give kirn a false idea of the character of living organisms. 



fa CELL AND PSYCHE 

The teaching of elementary biology is too often vitiated 
by such naive comparisons. The present hypothesis, al- 
though it contends that these reactions in their essential 
nature can be regarded fundamentally as manifestations 
of purpose, recognizes this purpose to be at a far lower 
level than that with which the student is familiar in his 
own mind. 

Much of the difficulty in accepting the idea of purpose- 
ful action by plants and animals comes from the assump- 
tion that this implies an ability to do what is best for 
them, what will always tend toward their survival. This 
would indicate an unexplainable ability of living sub- 
stance invariably to do the right thing, to adapt itself in 
a favorable manner to changing conditions. This it seems 
by no means to possess. Many of the races of plants and 
animals which have appeared as mutations certainly lack 
it The type of corn known as "lazy/' for example, 
grows flat on the ground, and no amount of propping up 
will induce it to become erect It is not weak-stemmed. 
It is naturally prostrate, held there by the unusual dis- 
tribution of its growth substances, in turn controlled by 
its genetic constitution. In our sense of the word it has 
a purpose to grow horizontally but this would soon 
lead to its extinction in nature. Organisms often fail to 
act in such a way as to favor their survival. As Jennings 
has said, to make mistakes is one of the characteristic 
phenomena of biology. In other words, we can and often 
do have purposive organization without adaptation. Each 
individual has its own genetic equilibria or physiological 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 83 

norms, its own primitive purposes, and new ones which 
arise may well be unfavorable. Natural selection elimi- 
nates these and preserves individuals which tend to react 
in a favorable way, which have "purposes" that are con- 
ducive to successful life and survival, which "want" the 
right things. There is really more here, I believe, than a 
figure of speech. We are justified in saying that the ulti- 
mate interpretation of why a leaf turns toward the light 
is that such action is a regulatory and thus a purposive 
but not necessarily an adaptive phenomenon. This does 
not mean, of course, that the mechanisms by which this 
is accomplished hormone distribution and other physical 
changes are not essential. These are the means by which 
a specific regulatory behavior is attained. Such behavior 
enables the plant to survive, however, by virtue of long 
evolutionary selection and not because of any innate tend- 
ency to react in a favorable manner. Adaptation, the 
beautiful and precise fashion in which organisms so com- 
monly respond to their surroundings in such a way as to 
live and reproduce successfully, is simply the result of 
past competition between many different inherited indi- 
vidual purposes. 

This vexing problem of purpose is somewhat simplified, 
I think, if we thus are able, in the individual organism, 
to reconcile efficient with final causes, mechanism with 
teleology, by showing that they are essentially the same. 
In all this, again, the nub of the problem, the question on 
which everything else depends, is the nature of this organ- 
izing, regulatory behavior which runs through all life 



84 CELL AND PSYCHE 

and seems always purposive, making action conform to 
a goal set up in the system. The ultimate explanation 
advanced for this basic biological fact will determine our 
interpretation of purpose at every level from the growth 
of an embryo to the aspiration of a saint. 

The third question is related to this the ancient one 
of value. Why do some things seem inherently desirable 
and worthy of our devotion, and others unattractive or 
abhorrent? The elusive quality called beauty, for example, 
surely exists and for many is a supreme value in the uni- 
verse. But what is it, why do we admire it, and how 
can it be recognized? It bears no sure sign upon it, nor 
is there any yardstick to measure its degree. Men often 
differ as to its presence, as to whether a painting or a 
piece of musk is beautiful or not, and the tides of opinion 
rise and fall from one generation to the next So is it 
with what is called the right; all are far from agreement 
as to what acts and attitudes are right and what are 
wrong, and moral codes often change at frontiers and 
with time. Yet the right is surely another of the supreme 
values, and men innumerable have died for it. A chief 
cause of confusion in the world today is that men cannot 
agree as to what values are, cannot establish for them any 
code which will command wide acceptance. And yet, 
uncertain as values often seem to be, there is something 
in them which demands our allegiance and utters an 
imperative that we cannot disregard. 

This problem comes down at last, I think, to the direc- 
tion and character of the goals of life. Those desires set 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 85 

up in protoplasm and determining the ends toward which 
an organism moves are not random ones. Many lower 
animals show preferences among the various tastes, odors, 
and colors of which their sense organs give report. The 
growing parts of plants move toward or away from light 
or the earth's center* Even the naked protoplasm of a 
slime mold pushes out toward certain objects and pulls 
back from others. Of course, these reactions have long 
been winnowed out by selection and are usually such as 
favor the survival of the organism; but, if our hypothesis 
is sound, they are the primitive beginnings of what in 
man have become conscious preferences, judgments as to 
value. The fact that these preferences follow certain gen- 
eral directions, vague though these often are, is certainly 
not without significance for the problem of value. We 
may not all agree as to the beauty of a given object, but 
the fact that training can increase an appreciation of the 
beautiful and that the accumulating opinions of men 
through the years seem to move toward ever greater agree- 
ment encourages us to believe that human judgments as 
to values have some meaning. We may well gain insight 
on these problems by studying the preferences set up in 
living things, the course and orientation established by 
those protoplasmic systems we have been considering. 
They are vanes which show the way the winds of the 
universe are blowing. If there is any harmony between 
our instinctive preferences as living things and any stand- 
ards of value established in nature, its basis lies in this 
organized stuff of life. 



86 CELL AND PSYCHE 

The fourth question on which our hypothesis may be 
of help grows directly from the last two. It is another 
ancient battleground the problem of free will versus 
determinism. Are we really free to move toward the 
fulfillment of our desires, toward the accomplishment of 
our purposes, or is this sense of freedom an illusion and 
are we actually machines, as truly determined and as sub- 
ject to mechanical laws as an automaton? Perhaps noth- 
ing new can be said on this venerable issue, but with the 
progress of knowledge it continues to be stated in fresh 
terms. 

Evidently something must determine our acts, or else 
we must believe in chaos. The issue is whether we deter- 
mine them or whether something not ourselves does so, 
something alien to us, either within our bodies or with- 
out. Surely we have the feeling, and so strongly that it 
is taken for granted as the basis of our moral and social 
codes, that we do determine our own deeds, that we are 
responsible for them. To be sure, we are often buffeted 
by our environment, often kept from our heart's desire; 
but in normal individuals this does not shake the feeling 
that we are still the masters of our fates, the captains of 
our souls. 

And yet almost the whole weight of modern physical 
science speaks in no uncertain terms against this con- 
clusion. What are our desires, that they should turn aside 
the inevitability of a chemical reaction? How can we 
expect to modify so truly sublime a certainty as the Second 
Law of Thermodynamics ? To do so, tough-minded men 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 87 

tell us, is to give up the battle, to believe in fairies, to 
expect miracles, to turn our backs on the whole faith and 
fabric of science. This dilemma between what we feel 
is, and what we think must be, has troubled generations 
of men and is perhaps no nearer a solution today than 
ever. Says Henderson: "It is a strange irony that the 
principles of science should seem to deny the necessary 
conviction of common sense/* 4 The hypothesis which has 
been presented here may help to frame the issue in a some- 
what different and perhaps a clearer light. 

I have interpreted a purpose as essentially similar to a 
developmental or physiological equilibrium, a tension or 
prospective goal set up within the living system and nor- 
mally realized in action if external forces do not prevent 
As an open-field runner in football side-steps one tackier, 
dashes ahead, dodges another, perhaps to cross the goal 
line, perhaps to be stopped short of it, but always with 
the transcendent purpose in his mind of making a touch- 
down, so in a far less dramatic and obvious fashion an 
embryo moves toward its "purposed" goal, surmounting 
as best it can the obstacles in its way. Such obstacles, to 
it and to us, are often too powerful and prevent the attain- 
ment of an end. But this sort of bondage we recognize 
as such. It does not destroy our belief that we are really 
free, for it does not affect the fundamental mechanism 
through which purpose is translated into deed. This 
translation is dearly part of the same dynamic system as 
the setting up of the purpose itself. Furthermore and 

* L. J. Henderson, The Order of Nature, p. 92. 



88 CELL AND PSYCHE 

this is the important thing the ego, the self which does 
the purposing and acting, is also a part of this same sys- 
tem, is indeed the core of it and the sum of all the organ- 
izing relations of the individual. The purpose and the 
purposer are one. It is we who will and do, not some 
agent foreign to us. Surely, if this is so, we do what we 
will, for the desires that arise in us are an essential part 
of us, and to speak of compulsion here seems foolish. 
How these purposes and how we ourselves arise through 
the organizing activity of living matter is the real ques- 
tion. If this is all part of a rigid, determined, material 
order, then our sense of freedom, which is merely the 
coincidence between ourselves and our acts, is, in the strict 
sense, illusion, as so many philosophers have maintained; 
but it is an illusion which bears the stamp of reality and 
for practical purposes is real. 

But there is another way of looking at this problem. 
Life is not static. It is creative. It begets novelties. Each 
organism is a new and different event. It may be that 
this creativeness i$ expressed not only in genetic changes 
in protoplasm but in new purposes and ideas arising 
within us, and that the organized system we have been 
discussing in some way calls these up, brings them to 
pass independently of external compulsion, and therefore 
that in a more distinctive sense it is a free, creative agent. 
As Whitehcad says, the psychical is a part of the creative 
advance into novelty. Vitalism, you will say; but the 
inner springs of creativeness in protoplasm still are so 
obscure that we should not be dogmatic about them. The 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 89 

human spirit, like an explorer in an unknown sea, may 
really be steering its course as it will, free and untram- 
melled, with nothing to guide it but its own inner direc- 
tive. Whence this arises may be one of the sources of 
the new and unpredictable in the universe. 

The real issue in the problem of freedom is again the 
fundamental character of biological organization, of what 
it is that sets up self-regulating mechanisms in a living 
thing, and ultimately in the nervous system of man, and 
which thus creates purposes and fulfills them in action. 
To bring into this ancient controversy the conception 
that man is such an organized system, with all that we 
have seen this to imply, makes possible, it seems to me, 
a somewhat clearer statement of the issue involved. 

A fifth question which our hypothesis may tend to 
clarify and which has already been mentioned is that of 
the self, the ego, the individuality of a human being. One 
of the most noteworthy features of living matter is that 
it not only tends to pull itself together in an organized 
fashion but that the systems it thus creates form separate 
and distinct organisms. Almost of necessity this is so. 
The goal of the organizing process seems always to be a 
single, whole individual* This is evident not only in nor- 
mal development but especially in cases of regeneration, 
for if a part of an individual is removed the course of 
growth will be altered in such a way that the missing part 
or an equivalent structure is replaced and a whole organ- 
ism thus restored. There is reason to believe that every 
cell, at least in its early stages, is capable, if separated 



90 CELL AND PSYCHE 

from the rest, of growing into an entire individual. A 
single whole is immanent in all its parts. When a proto- 
plasmic system is continuous, it tends to produce and 
maintain a single organism. Where parts of it arc sep- 
arated from each other, cither actually or functionally, 
each of them normally does this. Protoplasm always 
comes in separate packages. One of the most fascinating 
aspects of the study of organic development is to observe 
how universal is this tendency to form single organisms. 
Such organisms may be combined into societies, or may 
actually be united into colonial masses, and in some, as 
in most plants, the individual is a rather loosely knit 
aggregation of multiple parts. Nevertheless the product 
of the developmental process is almost invariably a single, 
functioning, coordinated, living unit. The significant 
fact in all this is that the individual is the sum of all the 
organizing relations within it It is the center of inte- 
gration, the core of the processes of coordination, all of 
which are knit together into a single physical and psycho- 
logical whole. The result of all this, of course, is the 
production of countless centers of organization, each of 
which thus has its own psychical identity. These selves 
in the lower organisms arc relatively simple, but in the 
upper portion of the evolutionary series among the ani- 
mals they have developed into the complex beings which 
culminate in human personalities. 

Such a living individual is a remarkable thing. It is 
a unit not only in space but in time. It persists. Its his- 
tory is a continuous progress, not a mere repetition of the 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 91 

same reactions. In the pulse and stir of time it maintains 
its own identity. Bergson has emphasized this fact. "Like 
the universe as a whole," he says, "like each conscious be- 
ing taken separately, the organism which lives is a thing 
that endures. Its past, in its entirety, is prolonged into its 
present, and abides there, actual and acting. How other- 
wise could we understand that it passes through distinct 
and well-marked phases, that it changes its age in short, 
that it has a history?" 5 However long its history may be, 
however varied its surroundings and its activities, it re- 
mains the same individual. Matter enters and leaves it, 
and its material constitution may be replaced many times, 
but its fundamental organization is unaltered. It is 
unique; not just one of a long series of similar units, but 
unlike or so it seems any other individual that ever 
lived* An unchanging genetic constitution is doubtless 
of basic importance here, but characteristics acquired dur- 
ing the individual's history bodily skills, memories, 
tastes, and prejudices are also built into the persisting 
self. For any living machine to maintain the delicate 
physiological balance necessary for life is remarkable 
enough, but to preserve its specific character, unaltered 
by the flux of chemical and physical change, is indeed 
past our understanding now. Human personality, ten- 
uous as it may sometimes seem to be, is of surprisingly 
tough fiber. The knot of norms, goals, steady states, 
potencies, and purposes of which it is composed is almost 
impossible to loosen. To kill it is easy, and to direct the 

*H, Bergson, Creative Evolution, p. 15. 



92 CELL AND PSYCHE 

coarse of its development not difficult; but to break it 
down and make it into something different, as a sculptor 
does with his cky; to shake it free from its past, to de- 
stroy its identity this the organized pattern of personality 
most successfully resists. 

Around the fact of individuality centers a whole group 
of problems. What is human personality? Has it a value 
of itself, or is this submerged in the greater value of a 
society? What is this elusive thing we call the soul? 
What prospect is there that it may be so sturdy as to 
survive the disorganization of the body? Can it com- 
municate directly with other souls ? Here also arise those 
great ethical questions of the relationships between hu- 
man individuals, of selfishness, hatred, altruism, and 
love. These are questions of the utmost importance not 
only for an understanding of the universe but for their 
bearing on the philosophies of men. The hypothesis 
which has been presented in these pages will certainly 
not solve them, but it does suggest that they all neces- 
sarily arise from the one fundamental fact which under- 
lies the argument here. Whatever one may think of 
psyches, egos, or souls, they all originate in this remark- 
able process by which living matter pulls itself together 
into integrated and organized self-regulating systems. 
The real problem, as has been pointed out repeatedly, is 
the character of these systems. The soul is the internally 
experienced aspect of bodily organization. 

Again the materialist can readily accept our conclusion. 
The soul to him is simply the psychical aspect of the 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 93 

material bodily system and nothing more. The ties be- 
tween physiology and psychology are still obscure, but the 
latter, he maintains, must certainly be subordinate to the 
former. The idealist may not be convinced, however. 
This fact of the organization of living stuff is the very 
nub of all these problems and until it is disposed of, says 
he, no certain conclusions can be drawn. Organization, 
as some philosophers think, may be one of the major 
categories and may control, rather than arise from, mat- 
ter* Perhaps these centers of organization are primary 
things, not secondary ones. Perhaps they may even exist 
independently of the matter in which they arc now cm- 
bodied. Perhaps, as Schrodinger suggests, 6 they are each 
a part of a universal spiritual whole. All these ideas the 
materialist will look upon with amusement or indigna- 
tion, depending on the toughness of his mind; and, in- 
deed, in the clarity of the laboratory it does savor of the 
preposterous to think of the soul as anything but a tem- 
porary phenomenon, dependent on a series of complex 
chemical reactions in the body. But the universe is a 
remarkable and often unpredictable place, and unexpected 
things keep coming out of it. The obvious is not always 
the true, as physics has learned so well. Living matter 
may conceal mysteries deeper and more difficult to com- 
prehend even than this. To say that the soul has nothing 
to do with the body is foolish. To say that it is a mere 
accessory to the body may prove equally so. All we arc 
maintaining here is that soul and body are manifestations 

e E. Schrodingcr, What If Ufa?, pp. 88-91. 



94 CEIL AND PSYCHE 

of the same basic phenomenon, are a fundamental unity. 
Whence this comes and whither it may go is the ultimate 
question. Meanwhile the fact that living nature so in- 
variably expresses itself in individuals should emphasize 
their importance in the nature of things, and the fact 
that the highest manifestations of the life of m?n come 
not through groups but through single human person- 
alities should convince us that these are worthy of our 
deepest respect and concern. 

Out of this problem of the origin of the self and human 
personality grows that deep final question of what man's 
nature really is and what is his place and significance in 
the universe. To seek from our hypothesis aid in the solu- 
tion of these questions may seem to exalt the fact of 
biological organization far beyond its natural limitations; 
but even here I believe that we may gain from it some 
suggestions which are not without value. 

Man is indeed the paragon of animals. Arisen in a 
few score millennia from the rank of a second-class mam- 
mal by his mastery of the power to reason, he has gained 
ascendancy over every living thing and is set off from 
the rest by differences which mark Km as unique in all 
creation, the crown and climax of the evolutionary 
drama. But a human being, the organized self in which 
the life of man is expressed, is far more complex than a 
study of his evolutionary history might lead one to ex- 
pect. He is no mere glorified robot, ruthless, weighing 
everything in the scales of survival and physical satisfac- 
tion. He is a vast deal more than a bundle of purposes 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 95 

with an intellect to help accomplish them* From far 
down within hirr^ in that deep subconscious matrix 
where matter and energy and life are so inextricably 
mixed together, there surge up into consciousness a 
throng of emotions, longings, loves and hates, imaginings 
and aspirations, some exalted and some base, which form 
the most important part of what he is. Here are not only 
the passions, lusts, and cravings of a species but newly 
risen above the level of the beasts, but qualities foreign 
to the brute creation, longings for higher things than they 
can ever know. "Man," says Du Nouy, "is not merely a 
combination of appetites, instincts, passions and curiosity* 
Something more is needed to explain great human deeds, 
virtues, sacrifices, martyrdom." 7 

Man is stirred by the marvel of beauty in the world 
around him. Imagination is his alone, the capacity to 
build in the chambers of his mind things never seen be- 
fore and thus to create the arts and the sciences. For 
him the noble and the good exist, and he aspires to reach 
them. Love for his fellows and a desire unselfishly to 
serve them have reversed the jungle code and given fatn 
a vision of the brotherhood of man, whether he calls it 
the Paradise of the Proletariat or the Kingdom of Heaven* 
He is consumed with eagerness to learn the truth, to 
penetrate the secrets of nature and thus to push forward 
the frontiers of human knowledge. The wonder and 
mystery of the universe overcome him, and he falls on 
his knees in reverence. The conviction stirs in his heart 

T Lccomte du Nouy, The Road to Reason, p. 234. 



96 CELL AND PSYCHE 

that he is not alone in it but that something not unlike 
himself is there with which he can hold communion. 

These qualities are far from universal in our race, but the 
goals which they erect, however differently described and 
varying in detail, have been acknowledged by all sorts 
and conditions of men as the highest expressions of hu- 
man life. These inner urgencies, these passionate and 
imaginative longings for something higher than he yet 
has found, are the expression of man's spirit This is a 
great and mysterious thing. It is no minor or accessory 
part of fair" but essential for his very life. Its values are 
the highest that he knows. The universe comes to flower 
not in atoms or galaxies but in poets and philosophers, 
in scientists and saints. 

To separate these yearnings of man's spirit from the 
lowlier desires by which he gains his food and propagates 
his race is hardly possible. Their germs are stirring in 
the beasts. Maternal affection, herd loyalty, cooperative 
effort, faithfulness these can be found in many animals, 
and what we know of human evolution strongly suggests 
that man's nobler qualities, which now seem so distinc- 
tively his own, slowly emerged as he rose to his present 
high estate. The theme of my argument has been that a 
continuous progression exists from the biological goals 
operative in the development and behavior of a living 
organism to the psychological facts of desire and purpose. 
What reason is there to exclude from this progression 
these highest of desires, these most exalted of aspirations? 
Indeed, their almost instinctive character seems to bring 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 97 

them even closer to the biological level than is the intellect 
itself. Thus to interpret the mysteries of the human spirit 
in the pedestrian terms of embryology may seem fantastic, 
but is it any more so than to believe that a thing of beauty 
can be broken down into a series of chemical reactions in 
its creator's brain? It is a lofty conception, I thinly to 
regard the soaring spirit of man, which creates beauty, 
strives for knowledge, and aspires to an understanding 
of the mysteries of the universe, as rooted in the same 
vital processes which fashion his limbs and time the beat- 
ing of his heart; to look upon the inspiration which 
welled up in Shakespeare's mind as he wrote Hamlet or 
in Beethoven's to find expression in the Ninth Symphony ', 
or the imagination which pictured the "Last Supper" to 
Leonardo before he transferred it to the chapel wall, or 
the vision of St. Francis in the Portmncula, as but loftier 
expressions of that same creative urgency that stirs in 
protoplasm everywhere. By means which still elude us 
but are the goal equally of the biologist, the poet, and 
the philosopher are born those yearnings which make n*an 
the noble animal he is. Living things are seekers and 
creators, and striving for goals is the essence of all life; 
but in man these goals have risen to heights before un- 
dreamed of, and he can set them ever higher at his wilL 
Man's feet are planted in the dust, but he lifts his face 
to the stars. 

The question still remains as to why these highest 
qualities of man came into being. The obvious answer 
is that they were useful to his survival and that indi- 



98 CELL AND PSYCHE 

viduals and races which possessed them had an advantage 
and were preserved by natural selection. Darwin's great 
generalization is still in high repute and may well explain 
the profound advances in man's reasoning powers which 
have been achieved since the days of the ape man, but 
selectionists have always had difficulty in explaining the 
origin of his spiritual qualities. To be stirred by beauty 
surely had no survival value in a primitive society, nor 
would a cave man who foggily began to ponder the 
mysteries of the world be likely to get his share of 
mastodon meat. 

The ruthlessness of the struggle for existence has 
doubtless been over-emphasized, and many instances are 
known where there is cooperation rather than conflict 
between animals; but unselfishness and love of one's fel- 
lows seem so opposed to the very basis of natural selection 
that to derive them entirely by its means is to strain the 
theory. Too many times in the long history of man the 
light of civilization, kindled by desire for something 
higher than savagery, has been snuffed out by the bar- 
barians. Even today, who will be bold enough to say 
that we are not still in peril from barbarism, from a sav- 
agery more refined but not less brutal than its paleolithic 
model? But always the upward tide, pushed back at one 
point, begins to pour in elsewhere; and slowly, despite 
discouragement and delay, it has continued steadily to rise. 
The selectionist will say that the very persistence of these 
higher ways of life proves their survival value. But it is 
not the selective elimination of barbarous and selfish indi- 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 99 

viduals and societies which, has lifted men from savagery. 
Civilization comes not from an improvement of the germ 
plasm but by experience and example, by the contagion 
of higher and more satisfying ways of life. The true 
cause, I believe, of man's upward climb is his persistent 
yearning for those values which to him seem higher and 
more satisfying and to which he instinctively aspires. 

But whence do such strange longings arise? What is 
there that should make man crave these higher things? 
To the physiologist this is no mystery. These emotions, 
passions, and longings of the human spirit, whatever 
their evolutionary significance may be, must be anchored 
firmly in the chemistry of protoplasm, in the physiology 
of the nervous system itself. Is it not a fact that an extra 
supply of adrenalin, poured into the blood by the glands 
which secrete it, has a most profound effect on one's be- 
havior? Many drugs are known which bring the user 
dreams ineffable. Alcohol can alter one's whole person- 
ality. Conscience dwells in the brain's frontal lobes, and, 
if these are severed, the patient need fear no more the 
chastening of this inner monitor. Genes control what 
one can taste and see and hear, and our judgment of 
what is beautiful must thus depend on our genetic con- 
stitution. Love between male and female is conditioned 
by the sex hormones. Even the tenderest of emotions, 
mother love itself, is dependent on a sufficient supply of 
prolactin in the blood. Here is our ancient problem 
once again. To tie the spirit to material things, to 
analyze a noble poem or symphony or picture into a 



200 CELL AND PSYCHE 

scries of chemical reactions and molecular changes, gives 
but a dusty answer indeed to him who would seek to 
understand the heights and depths of man's nature. 

But if we are not satisfied with these somewhat pedes- 
trian accounts of how man's spirit was born, what is there, 
short of mysticism, to which we can turn? One great 
fact in nature, it seems to me, does offer some light both 
for this deep question and for the general problem of 
goal-seeking. Man has climbed the age-long evolutionary 
stairway from its simplest beginnings. In this progress 
the organized living system in which successively his 
ancestral life was passed became vastly more complex, and 
the outreach of his mind and spirit grew ever wider. A 
strange paradox of nature is the contrast between this 
constant upward thrust in the evolution of life and the 
downward drift of all lifeless nature as pictured by the 
Second Law of Thermodynamics. This law, unshaken 
by all the upheavals of modern physics, is a prophecy of 
the fate of our material universe. It tells us that the 
higher forms of energy are being degraded to heat, which 
tends to spread itself evenly everywhere; that the ran- 
domness of things is continually increasing, and that 
complex physical systems tend always to be broken down 
to simpler ones; in short, that the universe is slowly "run- 
ning down" to a dead level of uniformity. What wound 
it up is, of course, a major problem in cosmogony. But 
an equally significant question is the place of life in this 
vast process of material degradation; for life, in its evo- 
lution from simple and still unknown beginnings up to 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 101 

man, seems to move in just the opposite direction. This 
great drama shows a continual increase in complexity, a 
mounting tension, a steadily rising level of organization* 
"The fundamental thread that seems to run through the 
history of our world," says Needham, "is a continuous 
rise in level of organization. . . ." And again: "The law 
of evolution is a kind of converse of the second law of 
thermodynamics, equally irreversible but contrary in 
tendency." 8 There is here not an actual violation of die 
Second Law, for the energy by which life is maintained 
comes from the sun and is on its way down to lower 
levels; but the tendency and direction of change of the 
lifeless and of the living parts of nature are entirely 
different, a contrast which has been recognized by many* 
The course of evolution is marked by a continual rise in 
the level of the goals we have been discussing develop- 
mental, physiological, and psychological which life has 
set up and toward which it has moved. Just as the up- 
ward course of life introduces something new into the 
world of matter, so the emergence of these qualities of 
the human spirit has brought something new into bio- 
logical evolution which finds no ready explanation in 
mechanisms by which the rest of the organic world has 
come to being. This is the culmination of that same 
goal-seeking process which is found in the simplest liv- 
ing cell. Pushing up against the weight of lifeless matter 
it has organized protoplasm into the specific bodily forms 
of plants and animals and expressed itself in desire, in 

s Joseph Needham, Time: The Refreshing Pittcr, pp. 185, 230. 



I0 2 CELL AND PSYCHE 

purpose, and in the triumphs of mind. Pushing up still 
further and seemingly beyond the governance of selective 
forces, it has flowered in the spirit of man and borne 
fruit in the lofty idealism which the noblest of our race 
have shown. Not only does life express itself in organ- 
ized systems of exquisite complexity wherein goals at 
many levels are attained, but these systems are not static. 
Their goals are ever changing. Man rides the crest of 
this advancing wave. His nature and his destiny are ulti- 
mately those of life itself, and the longings of his spirit 
are part of the great upward surge of life from amoeba 
to man. Who knows how far it still may carry him? 
This creative quality in life seems to be a unique attri- 
bute, setting it off from lifeless stuff; but what may be the 
origin of it we do not know. If the fate of life is not 
simply in die hands of outside forces but if the systems 
in which it exists move forward under their own power, 
so to speak, in directions governed by their own inner 
urgencies, this is a biological and philosophical fact of 
the first magnitude. If this inner directiveness, this au- 
tonomy, of life can be explored, we shall approach an 
understanding of the origin of those advancing goals in 
the human spirit, deriving them as part of life's unfolding 
course. Perhaps life has one great purpose, and the lev- 
els we have followed developmental, physiological, psy- 
chological, and spiritual may be successive stages in its 
ultimate fulfillment-. 

So much for the argument. The attempt in these 



THE BIOLOGY OF PVRPOSE 103 

speculations to bring together toward solution the ancient 
problems of mind and body, of purpose, of value, of 
freedom, of the soul, and of the pkce of man's spirit in the 
universe by postulating for all of them a common basis 
in the fact of biological organization is surely as ambi- 
tious an undertaking as that to which a rash philosopher 
has ever kid his hand. For many readers my words must 
have carried scant conviction. I have certainly offended 
the materialists by bringing an element of mystery into 
what to them seems the straightforward story of the 
physico-chemical basis of life, uncomplicated by purpose, 
spirit, or other extraneous idea. Most biologists will not 
approve of mixing their science so thoroughly with philos- 
ophy, of complicating the discussion of organization and 
regulation by introducing overtones of psychology and 
metaphysics. Psychologists will surely regard the treat- 
ment of instinct, mind, and consciousness as far too simple 
and naive. To men of faith, on the other hand, I shall 
seem to have surrendered at once to materialism by ad- 
mitting that not only the psychical but even the highest 
spiritual qualities of man are all manifestations of the 
organizing capacity of protoplasm which shows itself 
also in the biological phenomena of bodily development 
and physiological regulation. To protagonists of both the 
ideological left and right I shall appear as a tepid com- 
promiser, disliking to follow the logical necessities of 
science but afraid to take a firm stand on the side of 
the angels. I admit the validity of these strictures and 
can plead only the worthiness of my purpose. If what 



104 CELL AND PSYCHE 

I have attempted to do could be accomplished, if all the 
manifestations of life from the lowest to the highest could 
be gathered into a single bundle and shown to have an 
essential character in common, this indeed would satisfy 
our craving for simple interpretations and for unity in 
nature, and therefore it has seemed worth undertaking. 

But more than this, such a treatment makes it possible 
to draw these great issues down to terms in which the 
biologist can talk with the philosopher about them and 
bring to their solution the great resources of his science. 
To regard them all as aspects of the problem of biological 
organization may seem a fantastic over-simplification, but 
at least it avoids beclouding the issue with a host of 
minor problems and gives us something very tangible to 
attack. The basic question is the origin and nature of 
this organizing, goal-seeking quality in life. Whatever 
we may think of the implications which I have tried to 
find in it, this at bottom is a perfectly definite biological 
problem with nothing metaphysical about it 

For this problem the materialist has his ancient answer 
ready: there is nothing here but the activity of a physico- 
chemical mechanism, particularly complex but funda- 
mentally no different from those with which we are 
already beginning to be familiar. Its self-regulatory char- 
acter is essentially the same as that of an automatic 
machine, and to read into these activities any concepts 
useful in psychology or philosophy is but vague ration- 
alizing, fit for acceptance only by those who believe in 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 105 

the stuff that dreams are made on. This is a defensible 
answer, and I cannot quarrel with it 

But it is not the only possible answer. For many of us 
the description it gives of man seems far too simple. If 
there arises in living stuff a goal, an image, a longing- 
call it what you will which comes to expression in a 
noble deed, or a great poem, or a new insight into nature, 
does not this tell us something more profound than pres- 
ent scientific knowledge can do about that remarkable 
process which at its lowest level goes by the prosaic name 
of biological organization? This is not to advocate vital- 
ism or any of the other subterfuges by which believers 
in the free spirit of man have tried from time to time to 
liberate him from the bonds of deterministic materialism. 
It is simply to suggest that there are in biology facts and 
principles as yet undiscovered which are concerned with 
this regulatory, goal-seeking, upward thrust of life. Per- 
haps a further study of bioelectrical fields will give a 
clue. Atomic physics, far as it now seems from biology, 
may help by the development of principles like that of 
Pauli, which already seems to have a bearing on die prob- 
lem of organization; or that of Heisenberg on inde- 
terminacy, which affects the whole question of freedom. 
Even telepathy and similar ideas should not be brushed 
aside as impossible, for they may well turn out to be sig- 
nificant for biology, as an eminent British zoologist, 
Professor A. C. Hardy,* has recently maintained. It is 

* A. C. Hardy, "Zoology Outside the Laboratory," Advancement of Science, 
VI (1949). 213-23. 



io6 CELL AND PSYCHE 

of the utmost importance to keep our minds open to 
suggestions from any quarter, however unpromising. 
Our program must be to push out vigorously across the 
frontier of the unknown everywhere and to explore that 
region where life, matter, and energy so mysteriously are 
joined. Surely science has a vast deal more to learn than 
now it knows. It will discover not only new facts but 
new concepts, new paths to understanding. **We fool 
ourselves," writes Hardy, "if we imagine that our present 
ideas about life and evolution are more than a tiny frac- 
tion of the truth yet to be discovered in the almost end- 
less years ahead." 

The plain fact is that in the present status of science 
biological organization remains still unexplained, and 
that many investigators arc doubtful whether we are nearer 
to the ultimate answer than we were half a century ago. 
The problem may be fruitfully attacked in the laboratory 
by objective, experimental study of the regulation of form 
and function in plants and animals, bringing to this task 
all the resources which science has placed at our com- 
mand. This is the highest goal of biology. When it is 
attained I believe we shall find that organization depends 
neither on the operation of only those physical laws 
which we now know nor on some superphysical or vital- 
istic agent about which nothing can be learned, but that 
a more perfect knowledge of nature and man will tell 
us how the physical and the spiritual are linked in that 
ascending, questing, creative system which is life. The 
answer may also be sought subjectively, I believe, in man's 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 107 

inmost experiences and intuitive perceptions, at biological 
levels far different from those of science. "A poem,** says 
Vannevar Bush in his recent book, "can touch truths that 
go beyond those that are examinable by test tube or the 
indication of needles on instruments.'* 10 Life can be 
studied fruitfully in its highest as well as its lowest mani- 
festations. The biochemist can tell us much about proto- 
plasmic organization, but so can the artist Life is the 
business of the poet as well as of the physiologist 

My argument is that, if the idealist will admit that life 
is his final problem and will halt his retreat to heights 
where the scientist is unable to follow him, he can suc- 
cessfully do battle at the level of biology itself and on 
its terms. Here he has the opportunity not only to de- 
fend himself but at last to counter-attack the position of 
his adversary. In this combat, let both opponents employ 
every scientific and dialectical force at their command to 
solve life's riddle, and agree to abide by the result In 
that day when the verdict is finally rendered there will 
doubtless be surprises for both sides in store. The book 
of life then opened will prove to be the work not only 
of the biologists in laboratories but of those others who 
call themselves poets and artists, philosophers and men 
of faith, who yet all seek the same Promethean flame 
kindled in organized protoplasm of the humblest cell but 
rising thence to illuminate the world. 

You will by now have guessed my own preference for 
this sort of aggressive idealism over the usual material- 

10 Vannevar Bush, Modem Arms and Free Men, p. 188. 



io8 CELL AND PSYCHE 

istic position. Indeed, a thoroughgoing materialism of 
the sort that Hacckcl advocated finds fewer supporters 
now. An understanding of modern physics and of rela- 
tivity has convinced most thinkers that, as the old- 
fashioned, three-dimensional universe with its solid atoms 
and its Newtonian laws is out of date, so, too, is a philos- 
ophy which puts its trust in such a system. The problem 
is to bring the known and the unknown together in some 
satisfying way. The present hypothesis is an attempt to 
show how this may sometime be possible. Materialism 
and idealism doubtless will continue to be different ways 
of looking at the universe. Which will finally triumph, 
or what monistic philosophy may come from a merging 
of the two, no one yet can know; but the decision will 
be of the greatest moment to our race, for it will largely 
shape the character of that society which men will build. 
You will share my disappointment that our excursion 
has not come to any certain answer for all of the great 
questions we so boldly faced at the beginning, questions 
"which, of old, men sought of seer and oracle and no 
reply was told." No sure solution, indeed, is to be found 
for them today. But if we can set these problems up 
against the background of life itself, if we can show that 
mind and body, spirit and matter, are held together in 
equal union as parts of that organized system which life 
is, then the idealist is encouraged to speak with much 
more confident voice. He can claim with assurance that 
mind is as real as body, for they are part of the same 
unity; that purpose and freedom arc not illusions but are 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 109 

an essential part of the way in which events are brought 
to pass in protoplasmic systems; that the soul has a sound 
biological basis as the core of the integrated living or- 
ganism; that our sense of values is not arbitrary but 
results from the directions and preferences shown by such 
systems; and that the course and history of life, so dif- 
ferent from those of lifeless matter, give hope that it may 
have an inner directive quality of its own. 

But if we have been less than successful in laying a 
foundation of solid biological certainty on which a philos- 
ophy for today can safely be erected, our speculation will 
perhaps encourage those who arc not content to stay close 
to the safe shore of certainty but seek to launch out into 
the deep; who nourish what William James used to call 
"overbeliefs," rising still further into the unknown by 
faith but needing some assurance of firm fact beneath 
them* This we can help provide. The existence of an 
unsolved problem at the very core of biological science, 
and one which seems doubtful of solution by the con- 
cepts and principles now familiar to us, makes dogmatic 
materialism less assertive. Many of our overbeliefs can- 
not be proven true, but in a universe which still remains 
so far beyond our understanding they cannot longer be 
dismissed by the tough-minded as impossible and intel- 
lectually disreputable. Religious convictions and the 
philosophy of idealism have today a more respectful hear- 
ing than for many years. 

If the goals set up in protoplasm, one thus may ask, 
the ends to which all living stuff aspires, have risen so 



no CELL AND PSYCHE 

high that in ourselves they now include the love of beauty 
and truth and goodness, may it not be that the organized 
system which man's spirit is, refined and elevated far 
above its simple origins, has grown to be the sensitive 
instrument through which he comes to recognize the 
presence of these same qualities in the universe outside 
him? A scientist 11 has well likened such qualities in us 
to "a hum given forth by the bronze bell of man as it 
catches a note from the eternal harmony and thrills re* 
spondingly from base to rim." Should we not look upon 
these qualities, to which our spirits can so readily be 
attuned, as lofty realities and worthy of our devoted 
loyalty? 

If these responsive systems which we call our souls 
are found to be so stubbornly persistent in the flux of 
time and matter; if our personalities are each unique and 
seemingly so valuable in nature, does not this suggest that 
they may be of more significance, perhaps even of more 
permanence, than one would ever guess from a knowl- 
edge of the lifeless universe alone? 

If these goals set up by the organizing power of life 
have been lifted ever higher through the ages, from 
simple protoplasmic patterns to the lofty aspirations of 
the human spirit, does not this bring a hope that life may 
be moving toward its own great goal and even that the 
universe itself is not the seat of aimless forces merely, of 
chance and randomness, but that it, too, has a pattern? 

11 Joseph Needham, The Sceptical Biologist, p. 40. 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE m 

Is not faith an experience of the fundamental unity be- 
tween our own highest goals and this great pattern of 
the universe? 

If each of us is thus an organized and organizing cen- 
ter, a vortex pulling in matter and energy and knitting 
them into precise patterns; and if we are able, though 
in small degree, to create new patterns never known be- 
fore, does not this suggest that we may actually be a part 
of the great creative power in nature and hold communion 
with it; and that, as James once said, we may come to 
recognize that this higher part of us is continuous with 
a more of the same quality operative in the universe out- 
side and with which we can keep in working touch? 
Does not this, indeed, present as clear a picture as the 
scientist can draw of God Himself and our relation to 
Him? 

The study of life regulatory, purposeful, ascending 
begins with protoplasm in the laboratory, but it can lead 
us out from thence to high adventure and to "thoughts 
beyond the reaches of our souls." In form of leaf and 
limb and in the beautiful coordination of their powers 
we see the first steps in that great progression which has 
long been marching upward from the first bit of living 
stuff toward some dim, final goal, as yet but dreamed of, 
which the poet sings: 

"One God, one law, one element 
And one far-off divine event 
To which the whole creation moves." 



SUGGESTED READINGS 

The literature of this field is very extensive and is by no 
means covered fully by the following list of books. These are 
all in English or in good translation and may prove of interest 
to the reader who wishes to explore the subject further. 
Among them arc represented the most important viewpoints 
in this controversial subject. 
Bergson, Henri. Creative Evolution. Tr. by Arthur Mitchell 

New York: Holt, 1911. 370 p. 
Bertalanfiy, Ludwig von. Modern Theories of Development. 

Tr. by J. H. Woodger. London: Oxford University Press, 

1933. 204 p. 
Compton, Arthur H. The Human Meaning of Science. 

Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1940. 



Conklin, Edwin G. The Direction of Human Evolution. 

New York: Scribners, 1921. 247 p. 
Driesch, Hans. The Science and Philosophy of the Organism. 

London: Black, 1908. 344 p. 
Du Nouy, Lecomte. The Road to Reason. New York: 

Longmans, Green, 1949. 240 p. 
Eddington, A. S. The Nature of the Physical World. New 

York: Macmillan, 1929. 353 p. 
Haeckcl, Ernst. The Riddle of the Universe. Tr. by Joseph 

McCabe. New York and London: Harper, 1900. 390 p. 
Haldanc,J. S. Mechanism, Life and Personality. New York: 

Dutton, 1914. 139 p. 
Henderson, Lawrence J. The Order of Nature. Cambridge, 

Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1917. 230 p. 
Hogben, Lancelot T. The Nature of Living Matter. Lon- 
don: Paul, Trench, Trubner, 1930. 316 p. 



THE BIOLOGY OF PURPOSE 113 

Holmes, S. J. Organic Form and Related Biological Prob- 
lems. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1948. 163 p. 
Huxley, J. S. Man in the Modern World. London: Chatto 

and Windus, 1947. 281 p. 
Jeans, Sir James. Physics and Philosophy. New York: Mao 

Tnillan, 1944. 2I 7 P- 
Jcnnings, H. S. The Universe and Ufe* New Haven: Yak 

University Press, 1933. 94 p. 
Kohler, Wolfgang. Gestalt Psychology. New York: Live- 

right, 1920. 403 p. 
Lillie, Ralph S. General Biology and Philosophy of Organism. 

Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1945. 209 p. 
Loeb, Jaques. The Mechanistic Conception of Life. Chicago: 

University of Chicago Press, 1912. 233 p. 
McDougall, William. The Riddle of Life. London: Mcthuen, 

1938. 273 p. 
Millikan, Robert A. Time, Matter, and Values. Chapel Hill: 

University of North Carolina Press, 1932. 99 p. 
Morgan, C. Lloyd. Emergent Evolution. New York: Henry 

Holt, 1923. 313 p. 
Muller, Herbert J. Science and Criticism. New Haven: Yale 

University Press, 1943. 298 p. 
Needham, Joseph S. The Sceptical Biologist. New York: 

Norton, 1930. 270 p. 
. Order and Life. New Haven: Yale University Press, 

1936. i68p. 
Ritter, William E. The Unity of the Organism. Boston: 

Badger, 1919. 359 p. 
Russell, Bertrand. Religion and Science. New York: Holt, 

1935. 271 p. 

Russell, E. S. The Directiveness of Organic Activities. Cam- 
bridge, England: Cambridge University Press, 1945, 192 p. 
Schrodinger, Erwin. What Is Life? New York: Macmillan, 

1947. 91 p. 



H4 CEUL AND PSYCHE 

Sherrington, Sir Charles S. Man on His Nature. Cambridge, 

England: Cambridge University Press, 1945. 
Smuts, Jan C. Holism and Evolution. New York: Macmil- 

lan, 1926. 362 p. 
Sullivan, J. W. N. The Limitations of Science. London: 

Chatto and Windus, 1933. 303 p. 
Whitehead, Alfred N. Science and the Modern World. New 

York: Macmillan, 1926. 304 p. 
Wiener, Norbert. Cybernetics. New York: Wiley, 1948. 

194 p. 
Woodger, J. S. Biological Principles. New York: Harcourt, 

Brace, 1929. 498 p. 



INDEX 



ij\ growtxt, 33 



Abstract thought, 68, 71, 72 

AcraturcffOf, 26 

Adaptation, not impl**H in organiza- 

tion, 82, 83 

Adrenalin, and behavior, 99 
Alcohol, and personality, 99 
Angleworm, regeneration in, 29 
Anima, in development, 18 
Aristodc, So 
Artist, as biologist, 107 
Atom, nature of, 3 
Atomic physics, and biology, 105 
Auxin, effects of, 36 

Baitsell, G. A., 38 

Beauty, as a value, 84, 95 

Beethoven, L. van, 97 

Behavior, relation to growth and 

physiology, 59, 61; as regulatory, 

62 

Behaviorism, 56 
Beliefs, importance of, i 
Bergson, H, 49, 60, 68, 91, 112 
Bcrtalanrfy, L. von, 9, 112 
Biochemistry and organization, 8, 18, 

107 

Bioelectric Held, 20, 39 
Biological organization, distinctive 

character of lite, 15-42; and psy- 

chological activity, 43-74 
Biology, 4, 41; and psychology, 13, 



48; and philosophy, 16, 52, 
106; value of introspection for, 56, 
57; service of, ID physical SCOTCC, 
79; rrarhing of, 82 
Biophysics and organization, 38 
Blastula, "striving" of, 47 
Bodily temperature, control of, 32 
Body-mind relationship, 76-80 
Bohr, No ii, 41 
Brain, region of, and psychical stales, 

77 

Burr, H. S., 39, 50 
Bush, V., 107 
Butler, S., 66 

Cannon, W^ 32 

Catalysts, 54 

Cause, efficient and final, 80 

Cell, activities of, 20; an organic sys- 
tem, 21, 37; independence of, in 
slime molds, 26; a level of organ- 
ization, 34; developmental norm 
in, 52; genetic constitution of, 53 

Chromosomes, 7, 53 

Complementarity, 10, 41 

Compton, A* H., 1x2 

Conducting bundle, regeneration of, 
29 

Coniferous tree, form of, 22 

Conklin, . G., 1x2 

Conscience, in frontal lobes of brain, 
99 



INDEX 



Consciousness, 48, 49, 55-62. 70, 72 
Control, operating in development, 25 
Cooperation, rather than conflict, in 

evolution, 98 

Correlative changes, in evolution, 36 
Cuttings, regeneration in, 29 

Darwin, C, 4 

Death, from loss of organisation, 52 
Determiners, in embryology, 6 
yvHbfmjnigm f experimental, 9; versus 

free will, 86-89 
Development, control of, 24; similar- 

ity to instinctive activity, 6z 
Developmental norms, 52 
Differentiation, 28 
Directiveness, of vital processes, 45 
Disorganization, resistance to, 31 
Driesch, H., 3, 6, 28, 29, ZZ2 

effect of environment on, 



Evolution, 17; progression toward 
spirit in, zo2 



70 

Drugs, effect of on mental states, 77 
Du Nouy, I-, 3, 95, 112 

Bddington, A. S., 3, 10, 15, 56, 112 
"yj 80 



Rinsurin, A-, 9 

Electron microscope, genes seen, by, 

19 

Pif^frortig calculators, 40 

Embryo, as an organized system, 23 
Embryology, experimental, 5 
Embryonic development, compared to 

purpose, 48 
Emergent evolution, 9 
Emotions, as objects of biological 

study, 56; based in chemistry of 

protoplasm, 99 
Engineers, and regulatory mecha- 

nisms, 39 

Entdechy, 6, z8, 29 
Environment, effect on development, 

*9 

Enzymes, 8, 19 
Evocator, in organization, 38 



Faith, in 
Feed-back 



and nervous 



system, 40 
Field, bioelectrical, 20, 39; in devel- 

opment, 38, 44 
Final cause, 80 
Form, as expression of organization, 

24; immanent in egg, 54 
Free will versus determinism, 86-89 
Frog, regeneration in early embryo 

of, 29 

Gene, 7, 19, 53, 66, 70, 99; action, 

problem of, 53 

Genesis, account of creation in, 2 
Genetic constitution, of cell, 53; and 

individuality, 91 
Genetics, developmental, 7 
Gcscll, A., 63 
Gestalt psychology, 65, 66 
"Goals,** reached by different means, 

33; set up in protoplasm, 52, 80, 

8z, 87, 102; striving for, as es- 

sence of life, 97 
God, in 

Good, aspiration to, 95 
Gourd fruit, ratio of growth rates in, 

*5 

Growth, abnormalities in, 33 
Growth rate, relative, 25 
Growth substances, 20, 36 
Gurwitsch, A., 38 

Habit, in organisms without nervous 

systems, 51 

Hacckel, E., 3, 5, 10, 108, 112 
Haldane, J. S., 3, 7, 9, 37, 78, 112 
Hardy, A. C, 105 
Harrison, R. G., 34 
Heisenberg, W., 10, 105 
Henderson, L. J., 3, 39, 41, 62, 87, 

ZI2 

Hogbcn, 1^, 8, zz2 



INDEX 



Holmes, S. J., 113 
Homeostasis, 32, 54, 55 
Hormones, 8, 20, 23, 36 
Huxley, J. S., 3, 38, 113 
Huxley, T. H^ 3 -5 
Hydrogen-ion concentration, mainte- 
nance of, 32 
Hypotheses, adventurous, 13, 47 

Idealism, 108; as ^ ;Tr>g<r of evolution, 

102 

Ideas, first expressed in action, 72 

Tfi^aginattnytj 58, 72, 95 

Indeterminacy, principle o 105 
Individuality, as result of organiza- 
tion, 89-94 
Insects, metamorphosis in, 27, 28; 

nervous system of, 71 
Insight, as door to truth, 57 
Instincts, 73; regulatory character of, 

61 
Integration, physical and psychical, 

46 

Intellect* regulatory character of, 68 
Introspection, and bioiogkal knowl- 
edge, 56, 57 

James, W^ 62, 109, in 
Jeans, J., 3, 10, 113 
Jennings, H. S., 51, 56, 82, 113 
Joad, C. E. M., 3 

Kohler, W., 65, 113 

"Lazy" corn, 82 
Leonardo da Vinci, 97 
Levels, of organization, 34, 101 
life, an elementary fact, zi; the ulti- 
mate problem, 16, 107; distinctive 
character of, 43; purpose in, 45, 48, 
77, 102; directive quality of, 45, 
109, no; contribution of to phys- 
ical science, 78, 79; goals of, 84; 
creative character of, 88; opposed 
to lifeless matter in direction, 100 



Lillie, R. S., 45, 6x, 113 
Loeb. J-, 3. 8, 10, 51, 113 

Marx, K., x 

Materialism, 5, 8, xo, 77, 108 
Maxwell's "demons,** 54 
McDougall, W-, 13, 113 
Mechanism, physico-chemical, 58, 72, 

104 
Mechanistic philosophy, 6, 8, 18, 59, 

83. 

Memory, 51, 72 
Mendel, G., 7 
Mental, relation to developmental, 

52, 73; plastkkf, loss of, 64 
Mental life, preservative action of, 

62$ dis^rggfti^ T^yy in, 64 
Metabolism, 19 
Millikan, R. A^ 1x3 
Milton, J., account of creation by, a 
Mimosa, reaction ot 50 
Mind, 49, 50 
Morgan, C. I~, 9, 1x3 
Morphogenesis, science of, 30; of 

mind, 63 
Muller, H. J^ , 45, 113 

Natural selection, 4, 83 

Needham, J, 3, 25, 35, 41, 47, 78, 

xoi, 113 
Neo-vitalists, 6 
Nerve cells, 49 
Nervous system, origin of, 49, 62; 

morphogenetk character of, 65 
Northrop, F. S. C,, 39 
Nucleic acids, 8, 17 

Open system, in physiology, 31 

Organkists, 9 

Organic order, derived from environ- 
mental disorder, 31 

Organism, 21, 22; produced by pro- 
toplasm, 7, 22; concept of, 9, 42, 
78; an organized system, 20; as 
having a history, 91 

Organization, biological, 15-42, 43, 



INDEX 



75, 104-106; a matter of relations, 
34; levels of, 34, zoi; evolution 
of, 35; as a category, 41; relation 
to psychological activity, 43-74* 
relation to purpose, 45* 4& 77 
202; of egg, 53; and freedom, 
89; and the soul, 92 
Organized system, 20-24, 27, 5* 73 

9* 

Organizer, 20, 37 
OverbelJefs, foundation for, 109 

Pauii, W., 105 

Personality, 92-94 

Philosophy, fundamental, 2, 43, 52; 
practical importance of, 2; and 
biology, 26, 52, 104-206; implica- 
tions of present hypothesis for, 75" 

2X2 

Physical sciences, revolution in, 25; 
service of biology to, 78, 79 

Physics, undiscovered laws of, 22 

Piaocfc, M., 20 

Planes of cell division, in growing 
jQiuU, 25 

Poet, as biologist, 207 

Potencies, in development, 64 

Primrose, flower color in, 70 

Progression, from biological to spirit- 
ual goals, 96, 97 

Prohctin, and mother love, 99 

Proteins, 8, 27, 38 

Protoplasm, 26-22, 49, 50; synthesis 
of, 1 8; organizing ability of, 30, 
67, 88; goals set up in, 52, 80, 82, 

87, 202 

Protoplasmic reactions, as basis of 
values, 85 

Psychical behavior, and survival, 62 

Psychological activity, 42; and bio- 
logical organization, 43-74; re- 
semblance to that in development, 
44-48 

Psychology, 23, 48 

Purpose, 45, 46, 52, 54, 55, 58, 59, 



80-84, 88; relation to biological 
organization, 45, 48, 77, 202; 
immanent in brain cells, 54; gene- 
sis of, 56; in any physical system, 
58; improper use of term in teach- 
ing, 82 

Quantum mechanics, 9, 22 

Regeneration, 29, 30, 36, 89; re- 
striction with age, 64 

Regulation, 32, 33, 62, 62, 73, 83; 
in physiology, 32, 39, 54; origin 
of, 35 36; and purpose, 46, 77 

Relations, in organization, 20, 36, 42 

Relativity, 20 

Religious convictions, hearing for, 
209 

Reverence, attitude of, 95 

Rhythms, in plants, 52 

Right, as a value, 84 

Rkter, W. ., 9, 213 

Russell, &., 223 

Russell, E. S., 45, 223 

St. Francis, 97 

Salamander, embryo development in, 

23> f4 37 

Schrodinger, E-, 3, 20, 22, 93, 223 
Sea urchin, regeneration in embryo 

ot 29 
Second Law of Thermodynamics, 86, 

200, 202 

Sensitive plant, 50 
Sex hormones, 99 
Shakespeare, W., 97 
Sherrington, C., 3 
Sleep movements, of leaves, 52 
Slime molds, organization in, 26, 27 
Smuts, J. O, 9, 224 
Soul, 92, 93, 220 
Speculation, justification of, 47 
Spemann, H., 37, 44, 56 
Spirit, man's, 96; contribution to 

science, 79; as climax of evolution, 

202 



INDEX 



119 



Spiritual qualities, 68; origin o 96- 
100; survival value of, 98; linked 
with physical, 106, no 
Sponges, restoration of organization 

in, 27 

Steady state, in physiology, 31 
Stimulus-response reaction, 55 
Subjective relation, to organization, 

55 57 

Substances, in organization, 20, 36 
Sullivan, J. W. N., 78, 114 
Survival value, of spiritual qualities, 

98 
Symbols, response to, 71 

Teleology, 59, 81, 83 
Telepathy, significance of, 105 
Tennyson, A., 17 
Thermostat, "purpose" in, 58 



Time-lapse photography, use of in 

embryology, 23 
Tissue cultures, lack of organization 

in, 33 

Totipotent character, of every cell, 30 
Tropisms, in plants, 50, 60 
Truth, man's desire for, 95 

Ussher, Bishop, 2 

Values, 84, 85 
Vitalism, 6, 18 

Weismann, A., 6 

Whitehead, A. N., 42, 81, 88, 114 
Whole organism, as goal of develop- 
ment, 69, 89 
Wiener, N., 40, 1x4 
Wilson, E. B., 20 
Woodger, J. S., 21, 47, 114