The Biology of Belief - Bruce H. Lipton [70]
As I left the campus, my conscious mind was awhirl over the implications of the superior power of my formerly hidden subconscious mind. I also coupled those musings with my study of quantum physics, which taught me that thoughts could propel behavior more efficiently than physical molecules. My subconscious “knew” that my name was not Mary and balked at my insistence that it was. What else did my subconscious mind “know,” and how had it learned it?
To understand better what had happened in that chiropractor’s office, I first turned to comparative neuroanatomy which reveals that the lower an organism is on the Tree of Evolution, the less developed its nervous system and thus the more it relies on preprogrammed behavior (nature). Moths fly toward the light, sea turtles return to specific islands and lay their eggs on the beach at the appropriate time, and the swallows return to Capistrano on a specific date, yet, as far as we know, none of these organisms have any knowledge of why they engage in those behaviors. The behaviors are innate; they are genetically built into the organism and are classified as instincts.
Organisms higher in the Tree have more complexly integrated nervous systems headed by bigger and bigger brains that allow them to acquire intricate behavioral patterns through experiential learning (nurture). The complexity of this environmental learning mechanism presumably culminates with humans, who are at the top, or at least near the top, of the Tree. To quote anthropologists Emily A. Schultz and Robert H. Lavenda: “Human beings are more dependent on learning for survival than other species. We have no instincts that automatically protect us and find us food and shelter, for example.” (Schultz and Lavenda 1987)
We do have, of course, behavioral instincts that are innate—consider the infant’s instinct to suckle, to quickly move his hand away from fire, and to automatically swim when placed in water. Instincts are built-in behaviors that are fundamental to the survival of all humans, independent of what culture they belong to or what time in human history they were born. We are born with the ability to swim; infants can swim like graceful porpoises moments after they are born. But children quickly acquire a fear of water from their parents—observe the response of parents when their unattended child ventures near a pool or other open water. Children learn from their parents that water is dangerous. Parents must later struggle to teach Johnny how to swim. Their first big effort is focused on overcoming the fear of water they instilled in earlier years.
But through evolution, our learned perceptions have become more powerful, especially because they can override genetically programmed instincts. The body’s physiological mechanisms (e.g., heart rate, blood pressure, blood flow/bleeding patterns, body temperature) are, by their nature, programmed instincts. However, yogis as well as everyday people using biofeedback can learn to consciously regulate these “innate” functions.
Scientists have focused on our big brains as the reason for our ability to learn such complex behavior. However, we should temper our enthusiasm for the big brain theory by considering that cetaceans (porpoises and dolphins) have a greater cerebral surface area packed into their craniums than we do.
And the findings of British neurologist Dr. John Lorber, highlighted in a 1980 article in Science “Is your Brain Really Necessary?” also call into question the notion that the size of the brain is the most important consideration for human intelligence. (Lewin 1980) Lorber studied many cases of hydrocephalus (“water on the brain”) and concluded that even when most of the brain’s cerebral cortex, the brain’s outer layer, is missing, patients can live normal lives. Science writer Roger Lewin quotes Lorber in his article: