The Biology of Belief - Bruce H. Lipton [36]
I repeat this information from the first chapter because I want to emphasize that while it is the job of the membrane in a single cell to be aware of the environment and set in motion an appropriate response to that environment, in our bodies those functions have been taken over by a specialized group of cells we call the nervous system.
Though we’ve come a long way from unicellular organisms, I believe, as I’ve mentioned before, that studying single cells is an instructive way of studying complicated multicellular organisms. Even the most complex human organ, the brain, will reveal its secrets more readily when we know as much as we can about the membrane, the cell’s equivalent of a brain.
The Secret of Life
As you’ve learned in this chapter, scientists have recently made great progress toward unraveling the complexity of the simple-looking membrane. But even twenty years ago, the rough outlines of the membrane’s functions were known. In fact, it was twenty years ago when I first realized how understanding the workings of the membrane could be life changing. My eureka moment resembled the dynamics of super-saturated solutions in chemistry. These solutions, which look like plain water, are fully saturated with a dissolved substance. They are so saturated that just one more drop of the solute causes a dramatic reaction in which all of the dissolved materials instantly coalesce into a giant crystal.
In 1985, I was living in a rented house on the spice-drenched Caribbean island of Grenada teaching at yet another “off-shore” medical school. It was 2 a.m., and I was up revisiting years of notes on the biology, chemistry, and physics of the cell membrane. At the time I was reviewing the mechanics of the membrane, trying to get a grasp of how it worked as an information processing system. That is when I experienced a moment of insight that transformed me, not into a crystal, but into a membrane-centered biologist who no longer had any excuses for messing up his life.
At that early morning hour, I was redefining my understanding of the structural organization of the membrane. Staring first with the lollipop-like phospholipid molecules and noting that they arranged in the membrane like regimented soldiers on parade in perfect alignment. By definition, a structure whose molecules are arranged in regular, repeated pattern is defined as a crystal. There are two fundamental types of crystals. The crystals that most people are familiar with are hard and resilient minerals like diamonds, rubies, and even salt. The second kind of crystal has a more fluid structure even though its molecules maintain an organized pattern. Familiar examples of liquid crystals include digital watch faces and laptop computer screens.
To better understand the nature of a liquid crystal, let’s go back to those soldiers on parade. When the marching soldiers turn a corner, they maintain their regimented structure, even though they’re moving individually. They’re behaving like a flowing liquid, yet they do not lose their crystalline organization. The phospholipid molecules of the membrane behave in a similar fashion. Their fluid crystalline organization allows the membrane to dynamically alter its shape while maintaining its integrity, a necessary property for a supple membrane barrier. So in defining this character of the membrane I wrote: “The membrane is a liquid crystal.”
Then I started thinking about the fact that a membrane with just phospholipids would be simply a bread-and-butter