Do you ever look at an insect and wonder what its perspective is?
Do insects have concepts such as fear or love? Or are they mindless machines that take in data and execute a predetermined output?
We tend to describe “lower” animals with the human words that we typically use. A grasshopper lokimoting towards bread “wants” food or is “hungry”. A ladybug that flies away from a stick wielded by an equally curious and sadistic toddler is “afraid”. These human concepts are easy for us to prescribe, but are the frameworks accurate?
Certain types of moths look for mates in the darkness. They smell the organic perfume of their mates via pheromones and fly in a Lombard shaped curvy pattern towards them. The perpetual game of Hot and Cold is only broken up by the warning of predators - bats.
The Moth has two types hearing mechanisms for detecting would be vampires - A1 and A2.
A1 can hear quite well
A2 cannot hear very well
When A1 or A2 hear a bat noise, they fire an electrical signal to the rest of the basic nervous system similar to a wire completing a circuit.
If keen eared A1 sends a signal and A2 does not send a signal - the bat is far away. The Moth turns around and flies in the opposite direction.
If A1 sends a signal and geriatric A2 also sends a signal - the bat is close. The Moth quickly slams its wings together overhead and drops to avoid the swooping echolocator.
The system is simple, elegant and would receive passing marks from a software developer.
As one reads about this mechanism with a human mind, one presumes that there is a mind that takes in the information (A1 or A1 and A2) and ponders the predicament. Crap! That bat is close! I should put my wings together to drop.
In reality the Moth’s nervous system is much simpler. The firing of A1 and A2 simultaneously sends a message right to the wings, ordering them to cease the preprogrammed flying motion. We experience a similar sensation when we touch a hot stove - the signal from the hand does not go all the way to the brain to ponder the sensation of heat in the hand, the spinal chord interrupts the feedback loop and orders the hand to pull back before the kitchen starts to smell like christmas ham.
A Moth’s life is simple - he only has to react to his immediate surroundings.
The smile that automatically jumps to the lips upon seeing an old friend.
The single tear that forms when watching the end of Love Actually.
The sharp intake of breath that accompanies solitarily spying a human shaped shadow in a dark bedroom.
The furrowed brow that snaps into formation after seeing your ex has been venmoing someone date related transactions.
The Moth’s experience hinges on what is real and true.
There is no room for self doubt, over analysis or the myriad of other human frameworks - There is only action