Interdependence: Biology and Beyond

Meaning Systems

by Kriti Sharma

From biology to economics to information theory, the theme of interdependence is in the air, framing our experiences of all sorts of everyday phenomena. Indeed, the network may be the ascendant metaphor of our time. Yet precisely because the language of interdependence has become so commonplace as to be almost banal, we miss some of its most surprising and far-reaching implications.

In Interdependence, biologist Kriti Sharma offers a compelling alternative to the popular view that interdependence simply means independent things interacting. Sharma systematically shows how interdependence entails the mutual constitution of one thing by another—how all things come into being only in a system of dependence on others.

In a step-by-step account filled with vivid examples, Sharma shows how a coherent view of interdependence can help make sense not only of a range of everyday experiences but also of the most basic functions of living cells. With particular attention to the fundamental biological problem of how cells pick up signals from their surroundings, Sharma shows that only an account which replaces the perspective of “individual cells interacting with external environments” with one centered in interdependent, recursive systems can adequately account for how life works.

This book will be of interest to biologists and philosophers, to theorists of science, of systems, and of cybernetics, and to anyone curious about how life works. Clear, concise, and insightful, Interdependence: Biology and Beyond explicitly offers a coherent and practical philosophy of interdependence and will help shape what interdependence comes to mean in the twenty-first century.

Genres: Science, Philosophy, Biology, Nonfiction

145 pages, Kindle Edition

First published June 1, 2015

Reviews

[Spencer · Rating 5 out of 5]

You don't have to agree with all of Sharma's conclusions to enjoy this provocative book. Her prose is exquisite. I will definitely re-read this, and I hope she writes more. Bonus: her bibliography added a pretty lengthy new section to my to-read list.

[Christopher · Rating 1 out of 5]

The structure of the book suggests that it's for scientists or others with no philosophical background; she deliberately avoids using philosophical terms or referencing existing schools of thought until the very end, when she lists all of the philosophers she's pulling from. While this might be interesting for someone with absolutely no knowledge of philosophy, to me it seemed like a sloppy work, even though I can't say I'm that well read. My biggest gripe is that she posits a "contingentist" universe of unbounded space, where objects and subjects are created through cognitive becoming-processes, denying the existence of any essential intrinsic properties. However, she gives no satisfactory discussion of time, which all processes are contingent upon, and is not obviously contingent on anything else. She also explains her views on primary substances as a "weird circle" and devotes a single paragraph and an MC Escher drawing as explanation. A very unsatisfying read.

[Kitap Yakıcı · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sharma has written a brilliant and challenging "contingentist" account of biology that explicitly draws on Buddhist philosophical approaches to provide a far more engaging read than other books I could mention.

The author establishes a parallel with the early Buddhist model of the various dhatus (elements): sense organs, sense objects, and sense consciousnesses, with the "sense organs" here being represented by "the organism," "sense objects" by "the environment," and "sense consciousness" by "sensing"; and also of the subsequent deconstruction of those constituent elements by Nāgārjuna's Mādhyamika approach to philosophy.

The organism, the environment, and sensing as the link between them are categories that are central to the standard view of signal transduction. So is the patterning that relates all of these into a coherent account—that is, order itself. Though a standard view of signal transduction takes each of these categories to be intrinsically existent, the work of this book is to illustrate their contingent existence, the way in which they each arise dependent upon the others. (p. 19)

OBJECTS

What appears to be a world of self-presented and obvious objects can also be seen as a set of operations that we humans tend to perform: habits of assuming certain things about our world while denying others…. “Assumption” here means something closer to “intuitive, pretheoretical (and perhaps preconscious) habit” than to “product of conscious reasoned thought.” Each of these assumptions, however, can be brought to conscious awareness and analyzed as if it were a formally articulated idea, which is what I will attempt here. (pp. 20–21)

There is a very precise sense in which objects depend on the presence of observers: only observers can perform the various actions necessary for experiencing phenomena as objects. (p. 22)

[W]e may get the sense that, beyond the work of developing predictive technologies, the work of distinguishing “mere regularity” from “true causes” helps us to get at the intrinsically existent causal structure of the universe. The intuition here is that in order for causes to be really real, they must correspond to or reflect this intrinsically existent causal power or causal structure. In other words, the intuition is that there must be something other than regularities, the whatever corresponds to the “other than” is a mere regularity. Yet, again, causes are never observed. What is observed is that when one event happens, another event happens, or, in the absence of one event, another event never happens. In other words, what are observed are regularities. So whatever is meant by a true cause as opposed to a mere regularity, it must be some nonempirical and metaphysical category. (p. 31)

Shades of David Hume, taking empiricism seriously enough to apply it to essential (pun intended) concepts like causality itself.

SENSING

To be clear, there is no practical problem with using conventional biochemical language. “Glucose turning into glucose-6-phosphate” and the rest of it is a way of speaking that is very useful for many purposes. However, concealed in this formulation is some implicit assumption about what counts as part of the organism, and what counts as external. When the world on the outside is considered to directly enter the world on the inside, the process is commonly called “assimilation.” Light that is assimilated into a plant in the case of photosynthesis changes the physiology of the organism and actually constitutes or builds the organism. In the case of sensing, it can seem as though the world—particularly as objects—stays on the outside of organisms. Why do we not see sensing as a process of assimilation as well? Sensing is, after all, a process that constitutes and build organisms. (p. 55)

The intuition that “information” exists intrinsically and is transferred between things without itself being changed is part of what both creates and perpetuates the idea of sensing as “not assimilation.” For example, when is light considered “energy to be used,” and when is it considered information about the state of the external world? The chlorophyll example illustrates that there is no inherent distinction between “the use of light energy to perform work” and “the use of light as information” or “the use of light to guide behavior.” Both signaling and metabolism are conversions of energy (though, as we will see, energy itself is not inherently existent). (p. 56)

In sum, things are said to change from one form to another, and this change in form is attributed to the movement of energy. Energy, however, is not a forceful substance that makes things happen to objects, but is a (verbal or mathematical) term that is often evoked precisely to explain and predict changes in forms. (pp. 59-60)

The problem of determinism versus agency does not arise as a problem within a contingentist framework, just because neither agents nor causal powers are taken to be intrinsically existent from the start. If agency and causation have a place in contigentist accounts, it is as a pragmatic matter of being able to give more or less satisfying causal accounts, not a self-presented problem of how and where agency has arisen from an otherwise deterministic universe…. [As well] the sense of an ambiguous and perhaps irreconcilable relationship between the physical and psychological may arise in part because the metaphors of the physical and the psychological are, from the start, defined in contrast with one another. (pp. 63–64)

SUBJECTS

If objects do not exist inherently but arise dependent upon the cognitive activities of organisms, then who are these organisms? Who is it that is doing the work of aggregating and distinguishing and inferring? Who is it that relates to “what is” as objects and substances? If objects do not exist inherently, then one might assume that the organisms upon whom these objects depend must themselves exist inherently, for it is only they who can do the cognitive work necessary for objects to be experienced as objects. (p. 70)

Again, per Nāgārjuna, she follows this by making visible the invisible intuitions that undergird this assumption about inherently existing subjects.

Who is it that claims to be a self? The statement “I believe that there is no intrinsically existing self” can seem contradictory, but it needn’t be. “I” is a linguistic device used in communication and social interactions, just as proper names are such linguistic devices. “I” or “self” function in language as terms with referents; however, referents have no inherent existence. The “subject,” the “I,” is a term with no inherently existent referent, just like the term “flower” has no inherently existent referent (again, what is called “flower” is not by itself bounded or continuous)…. There is not necessarily an experiencer who is separate from, simply, experience. (p. 76)

It is the phrase “to have an experience” that is potentially misleading. It resembles the phrase “to have properties,” or “to have a self,”… What can have properties? What thing is separate from and the possessor of its properties? And what can have a self? Is a self separable into the possessor and the possessed? What self can then possess a self? Similarly, what experiencer can possess the experience? Experiences aren’t intrinsically yours or mine. The idea that experiences are the kinds of things that can be possessed is the byproduct of linguistic shorthand, which, taken too literally, gives rise to the sense of a separation between experiencer and experience. What can be coherently said about experiences without positing a metaphysical, ghostly, or inherently existent experiencer, is simply that experiences arise—full stop. (pp. 76–77)

Aka, a biologist decently summarizes the Buddhist doctrine of anātman in a paragraph.

Contingentists can be seen as a species of skeptics or ontological agnostics. (p. 80)

"Ontological agnosticism" is a pretty good shorthand for Buddhism in general, Mādhyamika in particular, and its soteriological qualities are articulated below.

ORDER

Considering the myriad things upon which our knowledge depends, we may feel trapped, doomed: “Help, I can’t get out of my body, my senses, my thoughts, my language, my culture, my society, my environment!” But we can ask ourselves, was it supposed to be some other way? Aren’t these exactly what allow anything at all to happen for us? Don’t our experiences depend completely upon these? Another possible response is, “Thank goodness! Here are my body, my senses, my thoughts, my language, my culture, my society, my environment! And therefore, here I am, here it all is!” In other words, instead of experiencing these processes as constraints upon some abstract and imaginary theoretical space—a picture that, despite good intent and limited usefulness, becomes easily reified and used to torture ourselves and others into both lifelong separation from and desperation for the really, really real world—we can experience these processes as precisely as what allow us to live and to live in a world that is, yes, plenty vast, plenty vivid, and changing endlessly as the processes themselves change. (p. 97)

That’s seriously Vajrayana in terms of its soteriology, so to speak (e.g., the author’s choice of the word “vivid”), given that this is a biology book.

CONCLUSION

There is also the absence of absence itself, insofar as “absence” is itself a term, which brings us full circle back to the absence of referents independent of terms. That is, there is no intrinsically existent referent to the term “absence”—no intrinsically existing Nothing or Void. This is how contingentism differs from nihilism, and this is why contingent existence can be considered genuine, bone fide existence, and not a kind of “lesser” existence. These “absences” of which I speak are thus, of course, just the absence of inherent existence.” (p. 99)

Compare with Nāgārjuna on the “emptiness of emptiness” in his Mūlamadhyamakakārikā, XXII, 11, translated by Robert Thurman:

“All is empty” should not be asserted, nor should “all is not empty,” “all is both [empty and non-empty],” nor “all is neither [empty nor non-empty].” Each is maintained [only] in the context of conventional [i.e., contingent; my note] reality.

In short, not the object or the subject or the process that links them is firm ground. None of them exists intrinsically, so none of them can be the fundamental support for the others. Their stability arises precisely from their interdependence—they keep each other in place contingently. The idea that experiences arise without intrinsically existing experiencers or some intrinsically existing process of experiencing can appear strange at first (hence the “strange loop” described earlier), but is not an illogical or inconsistent position. On one hand, the idea of “experiences without ground” can give a sense that what is is very spacious, open, and free. It conveys the sense that nothing exists intrinsically; neither matter, nor mind, nor time, nor space, and therefore, everything is mutable and a great deal is possible. On the other hand, the idea of “experiences arising from tight, self-referential interdependence” gives a sense that what is is narrow, closed, and constrained—everything holds everything else in place, such that all arises in a regular way, with alternative happenings being difficult or impossible. These are two sides of the same coin. (p. 100)

[W]e do not need to separate the material from the mystical, nor do we need to eliminate either the material or mystical from existence. The material world and the mystical world could be exactly the same place in every respect. For one, the world of cold, unfeeling, and inanimate matter is already vibrantly animated by our instinct that matter is, by itself, capable of being cold, unfeeling, and inanimate. Furthermore, a predictable world is still absurd, an insubstantial world is still vivid, and a shared world is still multifarious. A world of experiences is—genuinely—a world of real things. A world of real things is —truly— world of experience. And finally, a world that is vast—so vast that it is simply not a thing that can be sensed, remembered, predicted, comprehended, or even imagined; a world that seems like it should therefore, by definition, be impossible for us as the limited living to reach—that very world is just this, where you and I and the eight-celled algae live every moment, right here. (p.105)

The author gives a lot of intellectual credit to her philosophical inspirations throughout, but gives specific shout-outs in the last pages of the book, and I think the names of those ideas bear listing here, if only because they need to be added to to-read lists posthaste: pragmatism (James and Rorty), dialectics (Marx, Lewontin and Levins), geneaology (Nietzsche and Foucault), constructivism, ontogenesis, autopoesis (Maturana and Varela), developmental systems theory, deconstruction (Derrida), rhizomatics (Deleuze), and irreductionism (Latour).

[Carmen Tracey · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fascinating, original, surprising, and thought-provoking, this is a book that will stay with me for a long time. It's the rare tome that can cause one to fundamentally question their view of the world, but Sharma accomplishes such with lyrical grace, deft and solid reasoning, and a playful, life-affirming attitude. The central thesis is that everything is contingent upon everything else, throwing into chaos our basic assumptions about causality, organisms, perception, and reality. Not bad for a book that proposes to be about cell signaling. A word of warning: although the author is a scientist and although the book is based in scientific principle and sound research, this is really more of a philosophy text and, as it is basic questions of meaning and reality, can get quite dense at times. A must read for students of biology, the philosophy of science, or ontology. I'll definitely be returning to this book as soon as I am able.

[Keith Taylor · Rating 1 out of 5]

An exercise in self-reverential navel gazing. I gave up at the 20% mark, although I did jump ahead to the beginnings of later chapters to see if the logic became anything less than circular or elliptical. I don't care how many angels can dance on the point of a pin. I don't care how you define angel, nor do I care how you count the little beggars. I don't care if the angels feel the pin under their celestial feet. You get the impression that Bill Clinton may have read this book before saying in deposition "It depends on what the meaning of the word "is" is."
Glad I dropped it. Wish I had not wasted as much time as I did.

[Lynne · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was an extremely brilliant, and challenging read. But, well worth it!

[Sergio · Rating 5 out of 5]

As invites in the last pages: neat, awesome, touching, elegant, new and strange.

[Roy Kenagy · Rating 5 out of 5]

RK KINDLE

[J Earl · Rating 5 out of 5]

In Interdependence Kriti Sharma introduces the idea of interdependence, or contingentism, as opposed to the idea of the interaction between independent entities. This is on the large scale as in ALL things really "exist only in dependence on other things." Before I continue I want to admit that I have read the book twice and have still not managed to wrap my mind around the concept entirely. For this reason I will avoid trying to give any kind of overview of the theory.

This idea is indeed all encompassing which, though the examples are from her field of expertise in the biological sciences, means it can and needs to be applied rigorously to other areas of knowledge. Additionally, this is not a science book but a philosophy book (or at least a philosophical book) which happens to use science as its vehicle of applied thought.

I find far more in this theory to convince than cause doubt, and with more consideration I have come to appreciate it considerably. This should be a good read for anyone in any field who enjoys pondering the hows and whys of life and all it encompasses. Using one's own area of expertise or interest allows an expanding number of possible avenues into the theory since it is meant to be applied broadly. I judged this book not on whether it was a good read (which it was) but rather on whether it contributed to my ways of understanding. For that reason I would suggest reading the book and thinking about it closely before making any judgement. An extra bonus for anyone engaging with the ideas came to me several weeks ago. I found myself unexpectedly away from everything I would normally have been doing. As a result I became an observer of the world around me and began trying to explain to myself how what might appear as an interaction might actually be interdependence. It truly made that time interesting instead of boring and gave me additional ways of viewing and appreciating the world.

Reviewed from an ARC made available by the publisher via NetGalley.

[Analouise · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant, timely, valuable. Highly recommended.