The Lineage of Grass pt.1
on May 3rd, 2009We all consider ourselves to be individual persons – after all, we each have our own separate thoughts, loves, addictions, and (most importantly) our own bodies. While we probably wouldn’t consider much of the flora and fauna with whom we share this planet to be on the level of sentience at which we claim to be, there’s no denying that we can identify specific individuals of most any given species.
Consider a blade of grass; it is likely part of a larger clump of grass – perhaps an offshoot of a stalk which terminates in a flower. This clump of grass germinated from a single grass seed which came forth as a result of a genetic coupling of two other grass clumps. These grass “parents” in turn were spawned by the grasses which came before it over countless iterations with, due to mixing genes or freak mutations, each generation being born with a slightly different genetic makeup.
Even in something as seemingly vast as a wild prairie, we can still pick out a single plant – an individual member of the current generation, with its own unique genetic thumbprint. But what if we alter the scenario from “grass in a field” to “leaves on a tree”? Naturally, despite that we can pluck a single leaf from the tree, each “individual” leaf in fact shares the same genetic identity as the tree from which it came and is therefore no different from the tree than our nose is from our face… Or so we assume.
You see, given that multicellular organisms on this Earth all grow by forcing their individual cells to divide, we could consider each cell in our lonely tree to have come from its own set of parents, grandparents, and so forth. (Actually, it might be more accurate to say “siblings” as cells tend to split themselves in half rather than giving birth to offspring.) Even more interesting is the fact that, given DNA being as vast and complex and fragile (thus prone to mutation) as it is, each iteration of cells will likely have an infinitesimally small genetic aberration from the cells that spawned it. This foundation of the evolutionary process is what is responsible for such a diversity of species on this planet. In terms of identity, much of our taxonomy is based on physical differences and, more recently, genetic lineage. However, this poses an important question: Exactly how much genetic difference between individuals must there be to qualify them as different species? What about the line between different breeds or races? Given that even the very cells of an organism are capable of genetic variation, how minor of a difference must there be before we begin considering an entity not as an individual but merely a part of a larger system?
So if leaves can be persons on their own, where does that leaf us? Are we simply coherent colonies of individual cells wandering around aimlessly? Mobile societies of selfless biological robotoids working toward a common goal? Or perhaps our individuality is merely our own delusion as we live to serve an even greater organism, of which we are merely its cells?

