In today’s technological society we have become very familiar with reduction. In fact, many slogans of our time are described in terms of reduction: “Reduce, reuse, recycle”, “Reduced prices”, or “Reduced size.” And, often times, we can appreciate these simplifications of our lives; it saves money or it saves space or it saves the environment. But is there a point at which something that is meant to simplify our life becomes an oversimplification? Similar to when we realize that low prices for us here in America may mean poor working conditions for those who produce those cheap goods somewhere else? To make any sort of judgment about this requires that we attempt some understanding of life itself. What is life and how does it relate to all that composes it?
Reductionism has been a long-standing scientific perspective since Galileo Galilei first articulated it in the seventeenth century. It asserts, fundamentally, that all natural existence can ultimately be explained by a reduction of the phenomenon to its physical and chemical components. In effect, any event, process, or life, in any form, is simply understood by an understanding of its constituents. Meaning then, the understanding of the smallest and most irreducible part of physical existence would then constitute ultimate reality---the most fundamental knowledge. But when, if ever, does this simplification become oversimplification? The parts of life that we do not yet understand may be unattainable to us because of the nature of life itself and because of the important role we play in life while we observe it through experience.
The idea that the nature of life itself is resistant to such theoretical reduction has been a field of thought for many scientists and philosophers of our time. One such man was the late Michael Polanyi: Professor Emeritus of social studies at the University of Manchester. In one of Polanyi’s better-known essays, “Life’s Irreducible Structure,” he attempts to come to an understanding concerning this very enigma.
Polanyi asserts that, both animate life and mechanisms designed by human intelligence, e.g., machines, represent a set of “boundary conditions” which “harness” the law-like principles of physics and chemistry. These boundary conditions can be understood as any imposed restriction on nature enabling a mechanism toward some function. For example, how a Dam uses gravity to harness hydroelectric power. Consequently, living mechanisms, in the type of boundary they impose on nature, are synonymous with the type imposed by machines. According to Polanyi, these boundaries “form a whole hierarchy of consecutive levels of action” (124). Yet, the understanding of a particular organ in the body or part of a machine is only derived from the whole organism or machine, with respect to function and purpose. The boundary imposed cannot be inferred, then, from the physio-chemical laws themselves---just as we cannot infer the English language from the letters of the alphabet themselves. The letters provide us with a plethora of variability, but provide no meaning until they are bounded to a specified sequence to which we assign meaning. As Polanyi asserts, “Machine-like boundaries…cannot be defined in terms of the laws which they harness” (125). Their structure is “extraneous” to physical and chemical laws. For this reason, Polanyi holds that the structure of life “transcends” these laws.
For machines, this is true because we have provided them with specified information that enables them to function as we wish them too. Likewise, in biology there is a similar set or code of specified information that guides biological development---our DNA. It would not be an exaggeration to call DNA the language of life. And like a language, DNA is the means by which our genetic blueprint is communicated. Because of its very specific chemical structure, the sequence of DNA is completely neutral in terms of what sequence is expressed. Any possible sequence of DNA is chemically identical to all others. Thus, chemical laws have no means by which to influence DNA. Even so, the genetic information that is stored by DNA is very specific because the proteins needed for life are very specific. The reality of an independent code within nature is a great mystery because the code has been assigned a meaning that has forever eluded the explanation of both chance and law-like necessity. The information DNA retains is irreducible to any laws of nature that we know of, and yet is the basis for all animate life. This fact constrains Polanyi to ask the question: “Can the control of morphogenesis by DNA be likened to the designing…of a machine by an engineer?” (126).
Furthering this argument, Polanyi applies this subtle principle to the very nature of life itself. Like we see with the genetic information stored in DNA, the individual digits of this code can create a nearly infinite number of possible sequences; the majority of which mean absolutely nothing, like nonsensical words used in English. But the code imposes or reduces, from all possible sequences, those that mean the specific structure of a particular protein. This shows a reversal in the direction of reduction. Instead of reducing DNA to the chemical laws that garner it, the chemical laws are reduced by DNA to form a specific meaning that is replicable. This reversal, Polanyi asserts, can be applied to the nature of life itself. If this hierarchy, that Polanyi defends, is true, “…to reduce this hierarchy to ultimate particulars is to wipe out our very sight of it. [Therefore] Such analysis proves this ideal to be both false and destructive.” Wendell Berry, a contemporary writer and social thinker, takes this one step further.
In his essay, Is Life a Miracle, Berry asserts that such reduction, as is purported by the scientific community today, is inherently destructive and denies life a key aspect of its character. This facet of life is its ultimate mystery, which Berry holds to be the source of its dignity. Likewise, a machine as an analogue for life is both an incommensurate and destructive metaphor, which ultimately limits our potential understanding of it. Berry holds that such a metaphor is incapable of describing the incredible specificity and uniqueness that each of us experience.
That reductionism has become the common orthodoxy of materialism is no surprise. But, as Berry contends, describing life as miraculous infers the regeneration of non-material entities back to its rightful place in our consciousness. In our common experience, likewise, we realize that, “We have material existence only in the unstoppable, nearly unthinkable flux of the present” (185). And, as this is true, so is it also clear to Berry that the reproduction of our present experience is similarly impossible. No experience that we have had will ever be had again in exactly the same way. Our experience is, “…only in the present moment, not in the previous moment or in the following one” (186). And thus, the time in which we exist, the time in which we experience life, is immeasurable because it is infinitely divisible. Begging the question, “If it is immeasurably short, is it therefore metaphysical?” (187). In this light, Berry concludes that, if we can learn to recognize and appreciate the mystery of life, we will realize that we cannot dominate it. Our ownership of it is merely ceremonial and cannot express the way in which we are connected to it and interrelated with it. Likewise, our appreciation for life is limited, but ultimately, “[We]…must recognize its beauty, its preciousness, and its mystery” (188).
One of the primary aspirations of the human spirit is a will for knowledge. We search invariably for grounding and for understanding. When presented with the complexity and temporality of life, we often tend to attempt at generalizations out of desperation. Yet, we remain limited, and when we realize these limitations in ourselves, we often try to limit all of life so as to make it comprehensible. Certainly, some amount of this limitation can be helpful and sometimes necessary. But if material is relied upon as ultimate, if it is conceived as all that there is, destruction of life soon follows because we have understood life too generally. Life suffers from our attempts to understand its ultimate nature. On the other hand, humility towards the character of life essentially respects its primary dignity and complexity. It follows then, if we wish to sustain and relish this thing we call life, in humility, we must remain in defense of mystery.





Berry, Wendell. Citizenship Papers. Washington D.C:
Shoemaker and Hoard, 2003. Print.

Polanyi, Michael. "Life's Irreducible Structure." Journal of the American Scientific Affiliation
22 (December 1970): 123-131. Web.