Biology Class by David Fischer dave@cca.org
Copyright (C) 1998 David Fischer

Today in biology class we're dissecting the weak students.  Professor
Hatchet wouldn't tell us who was going to die, just that it would be a
demonstration of animal behaviour and evolution through natural
selection. Of course everyone was excited, and for once every seat was
filled when the bell rang. Usually we waste five minutes each day on
roll-call to determine who is late.

"Hello class. As I told you yesterday, we will be spending the entire
period today in lab, dissecting the weak students. Now, can anyone tell
me why I selected the weak students to be killed? Yes, Dianne?"

"Because the lack of muscles makes them easier to cut up?"

"No Dianne, although I must admit that that is a nice benefit
that hadn't occured to me previously. Anyone else? Yes, Gregory."

"Because the lack of muscle tissue makes it easier to see the other
tissue structures which we wish to study?"

"Nope. The tissues are differentiated distinctly enough that that's
really not an issue. Tommy, what do you think?"

"Because the wimps are an embarassment for our sports teams."

Tommy is captain of the varsity football team, and a very popular
student. The entire class breaks out in laughter at this comment.
Even Professor Hatchet chuckles.

"No, but you do bring us to an interesting point. What do I mean
when I say 'weak', Tommy?"

"Uh - lack of strength? It means they can't pick up heavy objects,
can't run fast, can't fight. A poorly developed, um, muscular system?"

"Actually, that's not what I meant. I used the term 'weak' in the much
more generalized sense of lack of ability, instead of the more common
usage which I would call 'physical weakness'. Which means Tommy, that
even a varsity player like yourself might conceivably be considered weak
by one measure or another."

The class again breaks out in laughter, and after a few hesitant looks
around the room, Tommy decides that the joke was intended to be ironic
and not a personal slight, and he joins in.

"Now class, if I want to accurately simulate a complex dynamic
environment like a food chain, what are my options?"

Joey looks up from his scientific calculator to ask:  "Is there a
differential equation that describes predation?"

"No, unfortunately this is too complex. For starters you've got
multiple interacting bodies, and then you have opposition. Instead
of A being a function of B, A is changing its strategy based on B's
behaviour, while B is doing the same, simultaneously."

Joey looks almost frantic. "So you can't simulate it?" he pleads.

"Well, you can't calculate it directly, but there are a few different
approaches for simulating it, each of which has its own limitations and
drawbacks.  There are mathematical techniques that give a reasonable
approximation of these dynamics by breaking the problem's world into
discrete units of time and space, then calculating each entity's
strategy at each time interval. This is inaccurate because of the hops
from time unit to time unit. The other approach, the one we will be
using, is to set up a real world problem that closely parallels the
problem in question."

Professor Hatchet goes to the blackboard and quickly sketches a grid
representing a discrete space-time continuum and turns, smiling, to
face a solid wall of questioning looks. His smile collapses and he
turns again to elaborate on his sketch.

"Well, basicly we lock the door and call this a closed environment."
Professor Hatchet continues to speak as he diagrams the isolated
environment on the blackboard, then walks over to the classroom door,
padlocks it, and puts the key in his pocket.  "Then I inform the
organisms within the closed environment (that would be the students
attending this class today) that one quarter of their grade for this
entire semester depends on them doing a good dissection of another
organism in this closed environment. After that, I step back and watch.
The dynamics of two simple but opposing goals will innevitably give me
the real-world behaviour I wish to study."

Gregory raises his hand, with a confused look on his face.

"Yes, Gregory?"

"What two opposing goals? The only two goals you mentioned are doing a
good dissection, and getting a good grade. Obviously those aren't
opposing goals - one actually leads to the other."

"Well Gregory, if your classmate there to your left started coming towards
you with a rope in one hand and a scalpel in the other, what would you
do?"

"I'd get the hell out of Dodge!"

The class bursts into laughter, and even Professor Hatchet cracks
a smile before continuing the discussion.

"Precisely. The opposing goal is the survival instinct. Now it's time
to experience these forces of nature ourselves. The lab is now starting,
and I'd like everyone to team up in pairs of two and get one of the
weak students to dissect together."

The previously civil classroom instantly bursts into a chaos of thrown
desks, people wrestling on the floor, and children being pounded into
unconsciousness with heavy-duty microscopes.

Professor Hatchet has to rap his ruler on the edge of his desk for a
full minute to get our attention over the screaming and crying.

"People, please, can we keep the noise level down? Thank you.  Now, to
get back to our discussion. Can anyone tell me why we have the survival
instinct?"

Gregory stops struggling against the ropes which have him stretched out
over the lab table long enough to get the Professor's attention to
answer the question.  "Because it is an inalienable right of all living
creatures?" His answer seems to have a subtle plead to it, which is
ignored.

"No, remember - evolution is simple, almost chemical. It doesn't
moralize, it doesn't philosophize, it doesn't even think. It simply
functions as a result of conflict bound by simple constraints in an
extremely flexable and dynamic environment. So why is the survival
instinct universal?  Simply put, because any species that didn't have
it is long since gone. It's just a self-perpetuating attribute.  That
isn't much of a 'reason' in the sense that we're used to, but that's
really all there is to it."

This explanation brings a smile to the faces of most of the
students, except for the ones who are tied down.

"Now, to return to today's lab, we still haven't come up with an
explanation for my use of the term 'weak students'.  If I don't mean
weak in the traditional, physical sense, then what do I mean? Andy."

"Well, you said we would be dissecting the weak students, so maybe
you meant weak as students, like the students with bad grades."

Professor Hatchet laughs at this. "That would be a good way of
keeping the class average up, and you're right, the way I said
it does imply that. But no, that isn't what I meant. Think about
what I said about natural selection. This is supposed to be an
experiment in reproducing natural predator/prey dynamics. Now
with that in mind, what does weak mean?"

Jake struggles against his restraints to see the front of the classroom
and hesitantly suggests: "Weak, like diluted - their genetic makeup has
a lot of bad recessive traits in it, from excessive inbreeding?"

"Interesting idea, but no. I think you will all laugh at the simplicity
of this, but I mean weak in the sense of weak at avoiding being
dissected in this class!"

A few students put down thier scalpels and stop working in order to
laugh at this, while the students being dissected just glare in anger
at the ceiling they're lying beneath.

Dianne has been flipping through her textbook with an extremely
determined expression on her face for a few minutes, and now she
finally gives up and raises her hand.

"Yes Dianne?"

"What does this experiment have to do with any natural ecosystem out there
in the real world? Real animals don't go to class, so they couldn't
get trapped here."

The class giggles at this last comment.

"Good point. Generalize a bit more - instead of being weak at avoiding
being dissected, lets say weak at avoiding the threat of the moment.
It doesn't matter - they're the same thing as far as natural selection
is concerned."

Dianne was just about to ask for clarification on another point in
today's lesson, when the town air raid siren began its wailing shriek
in the distance, and the school public address system clicked on.

"Attention, faculty and students. Professor Gauze's political science
class at Desperation Middle School has launched a pre-emptive nuclear
strike against our school as part of their study of 20th century 
defense strategy. The fact that we have been able to detect the attack
with over two minutes to go before their missiles reach us clearly
demonstrates the subject of their lesson for today - the principle of
Mutually Assured Destruction. If either side has time to react to a
first strike with an equally destructive retalitory strike, then neither
side will risk an initial assault. I hope this experiment has proven to
be enlightening for everyone here. Good bye."

The speaker cuts off, just as the ambient light level suddenly goes
way up.