(1809 - 1882)
1. Calling on Darwin
Archie and I surfaced in 1878. Darwin, who was having an afternoon nap, looked at us with surprise.
“How on earth did you come to my room? I did not hear any knocking. And these strange clothes. From where are you?”
“Neither of us is alive. You see our ghosts. This here is Archimedes Man of Syracuse. I am sure his name in known to you.”
“It is,” confirmed Darwin, “and who are you?”
“My name is Peter Berger but my friends call me Peter’le. I was born in 1933. A divine panel is now sitting in judgment of me. For the time being, I am the guest of Archie and his two friends. They live in a special ward, somewhere between purgatory and paradise.”
“This must be a mirage,” muttered Darwin and pinched his arms.
“It isn’t,” retorted Archie fiercely. “We are as real as you yourself.”
“This requires a revision of my understanding of the world,” observed Darwin. “But then, many people treated my scientific conclusions on the transmutation of species with disbelief and, alas, with contempt.”
“My era proved you right. Darwinism is now taught in many schools and universities,” I consoled him.
“Including Cambridge?”
“Oxford and Cambridge,” I spoke emphatically.
“So you are from that other place; and our rowers have regularly beaten yours!”
“Be this as it may,” I conceded. “Still, I am here on a mission. Let me tell you all about it.”
It took me a while to convince Charles Darwin that my undertaking was real. For a long while he looked at me in sheer astonishment.
“Are you then a scientist?”
“No, Mr. Darwin. I spent most of my life teaching and practising law.”
“So how did you come to know about me?”
“Our Biology Teacher in secondary school was an ardent admirer of evolution as described by you. Later in life I read two of your books: On the Origin of the Species and The Descent of Man. You convinced me. But I wonder how you reached your conclusions. The common view is that you pondered over them during your five year voyage on HMS Beagle.”
2. Voyage of HMS Beagle
“Basically, that is correct. At the suggestion of Sir Charles Lyell, author of Principles of Geology, in which he demonstrated that our earth was of great antiquity, I accepted Captain Fitzroy’s invitation to engage me as naturalist. Initially, my father objected to my taking such a long trip. As you may know, we were related to the prominent Wedgwood family, and I was meant to become a clergyman. After lengthy discussions, he finally agreed to my trip.”
“Why were there any uncertainties about the assignment?” I wanted to know.
“The object of the Beagle’s voyage was to survey the exact position and measurement of vicinities all over the world. A ‘naturalist’ was a sort of an extra observer, concentrating, in addition to the geographical survey, on biological finds. In a sense, he was a supernumerary. The family wanted me to proceed with a course of studies. ”
“Did you reach your conclusions on evolution during this voyage?”
“I did, rather. Frequently, I left the ship and made excursions inland. I collected fossils and sent them back to Cambridge, where they were classified and exhibited. During a survey of Santiago in the Cape Verde islands I noticed that seashells embedded in an ancient layer of white rock resembled the very ones on the beach. I also found interesting specimen of Octopus, which changed their colour, just like a chameleon, in order to mould with the background.”
“I believe the Beagle made a stop in Bahiha Blanca near Buenos Aires,” I observed.
“She did and I got most interesting fossils of teeth and of bones of mammals and seashells, both in one stratum. I also found fossilised rodent remains. And it appeared that the layers were deposited over a lengthy time span and not in consequence of an earthquake or some other catastrophe. We then sailed to the Tierra del Fuego. I was impressed by the marked differences between the local inhabitants and the people I came from. Later, in the vicinity of Montevideo, I came across small rheas but was advised that a much bigger bird of this type lived further up north.”
“Did you conceive your theory at that time,” asked Archie, who had been listening attentively.
“Not really,” answered Darwin. “I continued to accept the notion that species developed in a linear manner and that they died out when they were no longer able to adapt to changing circumstances. At the same time, I started to wonder if evolution was really as simple as that. My ideas started to firm when we dropped anchor in the Gelapǎgos Islands. The giant tortoises and marine iguanas struck me as well suited to their dismal habitat. I was startled to be told that each of the islands had a distinct form of tortoise. The same applied to mockingbirds. In consequence, I started to doubt the rejection of the transmutation of species.”
“I believe the Beagle sailed on to New Zealand and Australia,” prompted Archie.
“She did indeed. I admired the Australian marsupials – the Kangaroo and the Platypus. They differed to such an extent from the fauna in other continents that it looked as if two separate creators had been at work. These unusual species provided further fruit for my meanderings.”
For a few moments Darwin was lost in thought. He then continued his narrative: “When I arrived back home I was pleased to learn that the exhibits as well as the notes I had sent back during our lengthy voyage gained me considerable fame. I had established myself as a leading naturalist and had become a member of the scientific establishment. However, my peers were unaware of my having started to doubt that the species were stable and that I no longer believed that transmutations should be ruled out.”
3. Writing the Origin of the Species
“Why didn’t you write On the Origin of the Species straightaway? I know you postponed it until you received Wallace’s letter and realised that another scholar reached the same conclusion,” I told him. Archie’s nod indicated that the very same issue concerned him.
“Actually, I was quite active during the period. I published a work on my basic findings during the voyage and also dealt with volcanic islands and coral reefs. Still, I was pondering my conclusions respecting natural selection. Then, Wallace’s communication convinced me that I was on the right track as regards the survival of the fittest. We published the joint article. I then went ahead and wrote the book.”
“Were you startled by the wave of adverse criticism?” I asked Darwin.
“Not really,” he conceded. “You see, the system I advocated could function without divine intervention. Further, I saw in humanity an apex of evolution and not a separate creation. If the same view had been expressed by an outsider, he might have got away with it. I had become a leading man in my field and in geology.”
“Unlike yours, my innovative ideas and major inventions were appreciated by my contemporaries,” pointed out Archie.
“Of course,” replied Darwin. “But then, you furthered accepted concepts. Your mathematic and scientific feats did not question or contradict any credo (or conventional wisdom) of the day. The same can be said about Louis Pasteur. He advanced the theory of medicine. He was criticised by some leading physicians but the clergy, or the church, did not feel threatened by his discoveries. My suggestion that Man and modern apes developed from an earlier missing link was an anathema to staunch believers in the creation myth. An enlightened philosopher, like Thomas Aquinas, would have regarded my theory as augmenting it.”
“In the Origin of the Species you did not deal expressly with the evolution of humans,” observed the well-read Archie.
“Not explicitly but the implication was clear. Orthodox thinkers picked on this. The difficulty was the formulation of branching progressions as opposed to Lamarck’s plain or linear line. Furthermore, the anatomist, Thomas Huxley, became my preacher. I am certain that without his drive, my work might have been regarded as the scholastic notions of an eccentric.”
“In your second edition of the Origins you actually acknowledged the creator’s role,” I reminded him.
“I wasn’t a disbeliever,” he told us. “I regarded God as the First Mover, who started life on earth. I did not accept that he supervised each transmutation.”
4. The Decent of Man; Scientific Theories
“Did your later work, The Descent of Man exacerbate the situation?”
“It did, Berger.”
“Was this due to your discussion of sexual selection?”
“When I discussed sexual selection in the Origin, it did not lead to an outcry. I was talking about the kingdom of animals and how, for instance, competing males sought to impress females with such traits as attractive manes (in the case of lions) or by colourful tails (in the case of peacocks). My comments about sexual selection in humanity were criticised by emerging feminist circles. Are this criticism still echoed today?”
“Not really,” I assured him. “The feminist movement disputes the views of 20th century opponents. But some stern religious circles criticise you for saying than Man evolved from monkeys.”
“I never said such a stupid thing. My theory postulated that Man and modern apes branched off an earlier ancestor, who became extinct long ago!”
“I know,” said Archie, “and you emphasized that evolution was a slow process. You also recognised that species adapted on the basis of environmental changes.”
“The tortoises and mockingbirds convinced me of this.”
“Your method was highly scientific. You started by ascertaining the facts and then came up with a theory derived from them. Some philosophers come up with a theory and then conduct experiments to establish it. My approach was like yours,” Archie spoke passionately.
“Please tell me about your own experiments, Archimedes,” pleaded Darwin.
I listened attentively to Archie’s scientific discourse. Much of it was above my head. In contrast, Darwin’s expression manifested understanding and approval of the tour. It dawned on me that intellectually the two scientists were closer to each other than to a humanist like me. Both had an original mind, driven by a sceptical approach to conventional wisdom. I, too, had my doubts but preferred theorising to experimenting. Scientifically, both were more advanced than me. I recalled how I grappled with calculus. They grasped its tenets straightaway and learned how to use it as a tool. They were my superiors.
“You look bewildered, Berger,” observed Darwin.
“You discussed living fossils, Darwin. I found it difficult to follow you,” I changed the subject inarticulately.
“My ideas on the subject were simple. I noted that some species extant today did not differ from fossils of the same species discovered in ancient geological strata. I concluded that they may not have had a struggle with competitors and hence did not undergo a change. Have many of these surfaced?”
“They have rather,” I told him. “Some fish which had been considered extinct were re-discovered in recent years. Many of these had minor deviations from the modern species.”
“That is not surprising,” retorted Darwin. “I did not rule out random mutations but, in general, thought that, in the absence of intervening catastrophes, evolution progressed at a slow pace.”
For a while the three of us remained silent. Then Darwin asked whether he had left a significant legacy. He expected that ongoing research might have led to modifications of his theory.
“You did leave a legacy. For some three decades following your demise, your theory was unfashionable but, as from about the 1930s, it made a comeback,” explained Archie.
5. Later Refinements
He then referred to the work of Gregor Mendel, Darwin’s contemporary who proved that certain traits, such as colour of hair or of eyes, passed by inheritance. He had further concluded that some traits were dominant and others recessive.
“In the 20th century scientists discovered that the building blocks of all beings were chromosomes and that ‘traits’ were borne on genes located thereon. Certain diseases were proved to be inherited mainly because of unsatisfactory changes in the genes. Each species had its own structure which, however, was subject to mutations.”
“I did not read Mendel’s work,” advised Darwin. “Was he familiar with mine?”
“He was indeed,” I stepped in. “I believe that scientists of the 20th century accepted your evolution theory as based on natural selection and engrafted on it Mendel’s discoveries as amplified by modern research. But I doubt if they could have ever got a full picture without relying on your conclusions.”
“Did they also detect the origin of life?”
“They did not. And all their attempts to produce a living cell in the laboratory have been unsuccessful.”
“I avoided the subject,” explained Darwin. “My study of fossils and of extinct forms of life did not throw any light on it. What are the chances of settling the point?”
“I am pessimistic. Science has come to believe that the earliest forms of life developed from amino acids; but that is as far as we have gone.”
“I agree with Peter’le,” stepped in Archie. “I have studied the topic meticulously in all materials provided to me by Lord Pan. I am further inclined to think that the very nature of life will remain unknown. A physician can issue a certificate confirming an individual’s death. In most cases he is right. But the nature of the force that keeps us alive is unknown and I fear it will remain so.”
“Your mission, Berger, was to pinpoint the seven people who left their mark on human history. Do you really believe that I am one of them?”
“I do,” I assured him, adding as an afterthought, “but I am not at all certain that the task entrusted to me is feasible. My reflections go in a different direction: I suspect that our development was the fruit of a process akin to evolution.”
“I am inclined to agree with Peter’le. By way of illustration, take mathematics. I benefited from the works of Pythagoras and Euclid; Galileo advanced the work of Copernicus. Similarly, Aristotle was the father of physics. Then came the innovations of Isaac Newton and later still Albert Einstein’s. In both cases one discerns an evolutionary progression.”
“I have to concede that the same is true in my own field,” said Darwin. “Still, I hope my work was a turning point.”
“It was,” I told him and saluted him. “You sidestepped the morass and turned a fresh leaf.”
“I am pleased you think so highly of my work. I did not like the theological outburst I had to encounter. Fortunately, Thomas Huxley was prepared to act as an advocate.”
“Luck too is important,” I told him. “I wonder how many brilliant works were lost to us or never saw light due to external circumstances.”
“I have to agree,” concurred Darwin. “If my family had not been well off, I might have never joined HMS Beagle without securing a salary.”
“In effect, you concede the role of Fortuna - the goddess of luck,” I voiced my view.
“Modern genetics confirm that pure chance at conception cannot, and should never, be ruled out,” summed up well-read Archie.