Authors: Michael Crichton
Tags: #Mystery, #Thriller, #Suspense, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Adventure
I
n the
corner of the office, the TV showed Sheldon Harmon, professor of anthropology and self-proclaimed discoverer of the “Neanderthal gene,” being assaulted during a lecture with a bucket of water poured over his head.
On-screen, the event was shown repeatedly in slow motion, the water sloshing over a skinny, bald guy who looked oddly amused. “See? He’s smiling,” Rick Diehl said. “This is all a publicity stunt to promote the gene.”
“Probably,” Josh Winkler said. “They had cameras there to catch it.”
“Exactly,” Diehl said. “And aside from the publicity this guy is getting for his damn Neanderthal gene, he is claiming a mode of action closely related to our maturity gene. Activation of the cingulate gyrus and so on. Could steal our thunder.”
“I doubt it,” Josh said. “Dozens of genes work in the cingulate gyrus.”
“Even so,” Rick said, “I think we ought to announce. Soon. I want to get the maturity gene out there.”
Josh said, “With all due respect, Rick, we’d be premature.”
“You’ve tested the gene in rats. That’s gone well.”
“Yes, but it’s not exactly newsworthy. Showing baby rats pushing turds in a cage—that won’t make the evening news.”
Diehl nodded slowly. “Yeah. True. We need something better.”
Josh said, “What’s the urgency?”
“The board. Ever since Brad got arrested, his uncle has been pissed.
Seems to think Brad’s problems are
our
fault. Anyway, he’s pressing us to put the company on the map with a big announcement.”
“Fine, but we’re not there yet.”
“I know. But what if we just…what if we just
say
that we’re ready to start human testing?”
Josh shivered. “I wouldn’t,” he said. “I mean, we haven’t even applied to the FDA for—”
“I know. Stage one. So let’s make the application.”
“Rick, you know what a stage-one application requires. It’s a stack of research data and forms ten feet high. That’s just to
start
the process. And we would have to lay out a timetable of milestones—”
Rick waved his hand impatiently. “I know. I’m saying we just
announce
it.”
“You mean, announce it when we’re not doing it?”
“No, announce that we’re
going
to do it.”
“But that’s my point,” Josh said. “It’d be months before we could even file.”
“Reporters don’t care. We just say that BioGen Research in Westview Village is ready to begin stage-one testing, and is in the process of making an application to the FDA.”
“For the maturity gene…”
“Yes. To be inserted with a retrovirus vector.”
“And what will we say the maturity gene does?” Josh said.
“I don’t know. We could say that…it cures drug addiction.”
Josh felt a chill. “Why would we say something like that?”
“Well, it makes sense, don’t you think?” Rick Diehl said. “The maturity gene promotes balanced, mature behavior, which is by definition addiction-free behavior.”
“I guess…”
“You
guess
?” Diehl turned to face him. “Let’s show a little enthusiasm here, Josh. I’m telling you, this is a great idea. What’s the recidivism rate in addiction-treatment programs today? Eighty percent? Ninety percent? A hundred percent? Most rehab doesn’t work for most people. That’s a fact. How many addicts are there in this country? Christ, we
got more than a million in prisons. So how many are on the streets? Twenty million? Thirty million?”
Josh was beginning to sweat. “That would be like, eight or ten percent of the population.”
“Sounds about right. I’d bet ten percent of the American population is addicted to drugs, when you include alcohol. Ten percent, easy. Which makes the maturity gene a hell of a product!”
Josh was silent.
“What do you have to say, Josh?”
“Uh, I guess it’s a good idea…”
“You wouldn’t be fucking with me, would you?”
“No,” Josh said. “Of course not.”
“You wouldn’t be holding out on me. Striking out on your own?”
“No,” he said. “Why would you say that?”
“Your mother called today,” Diehl said.
Oh shit.
“She’s very proud of what you’ve done, and doesn’t understand why I haven’t given you a promotion.”
Josh sank into a chair. He felt drenched in cold sweat. “So, what are you going to do?” he said.
Rick Diehl smiled. “Give you a promotion, of course,” he said. “Did you keep records of the dosages you administered?”
I
n a glass-walled
conference room on Madison Avenue, the marketing firm of Watson & Naeme was engaged in naming a new product. The room was packed with hip young people in their teens and twenties, all casually dressed, as if they were attending a rock concert instead of a dry lecture from a professor standing at a lectern wearing a bowtie and talking about a gene called
A
58799
-
6
B
. The professor was now showing graphs of enzymatic action, black squiggly lines on white. The kids sagged, slumped in their seats, thumbed their BlackBerrys. Only a few tried to focus on the material.
Sitting in the back of the room, the team leader, a psychologist named Paul Gode, spun his finger in the air, signaling the professor to wind it up. Bowtie looked surprised, but he concluded smoothly.
“In summary,” the professor said, “our team at Columbia University has isolated a gene that promotes social harmony and group cohesion. It does this by activating the prefrontal cortex of the brain, an area known to be important in determining belief and credence. We have demonstrated this gene action by exposing experimental subjects to both conventional and controversial ideas. Controversial ideas produce a distinctive prefrontal signature, whereas conventional ideas create a diffused activation—what you might call a warm glow. Thus subjects with the gene show a marked preference for conventional thinking and familiar ideas. They also show a preference for group thinking of all kinds. They like television. They like Wikipedia. They like cocktail parties. They like small talk. They like to be in agreement with people
around them. Our gene is an important force for social stability and civilization. Since it’s the gene that promotes conventional wisdom, we call it the conventional gene.”
The audience sat silent. Stunned. Finally one of them said, “You call it
what
?”
“The conventional gene.”
“Jesus, that’s terrible!”
“Suicide.”
“Forget it.”
“Or,” the professor said quickly, “we call it the civilizing gene.”
Groans in the room. “The
civilizing
gene? That’s worse! Worse!”
“Horrible.”
“Argh!”
“Jump off a bridge!”
The professor looked nonplussed. “What’s wrong with that name? Civilization is a good thing, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” said the team leader, coming forward from the back. Paul Gode stepped up to the lectern. “The only trouble is, nobody in this country wants to think of themselves as joiners or civilizers. Just the opposite—we’re all rugged individualists. We’re all rebels. We’re antiestablishment. We stand out, we strike out, we do our own thing, go our own way. The herd of independent minds, somebody called it. Nobody wants to feel they’re
not
a rebel. Nobody wants to admit that they just want to fit in.”
“But in truth, everybody
does
want to fit in,” the professor said. “At least, almost everybody. About ninety-two percent of people have the conventional-wisdom gene. The real rebels lack it, and they are—”
“Stop right there,” the team leader said, holding up his hand. “Just stop. You want to make your gene valuable. That means your gene creates something people
want
to possess—something exciting and desirable. Conventional wisdom is not exciting or desirable. It’s mundane. It’s buttered toast with grape jelly. That’s what the group is telling you.” He gestured to a chair. “You might want to take a seat, professor.”
Gode turned to the group, which now looked slightly more alert. “All right. People? BlackBerrys away. Let’s hear it.”
“How about the smart gene?” someone said.
“Good, but inaccurate.”
“Simplicity gene.”
“Good direction…”
“Social gene.”
“Oversell.”
“Socializing gene.”
“Therapeutic.”
“Wisdom gene. Wise gene.”
“Wise gene. Good, very good.”
“Right-thinking gene.”
“Too Maoist. Or Buddhist. Come on, wake up here!”
“Party gene.”
“Fun gene.”
“Stone-washed genes. Hip-hugger genes.”
“Happy gene.”
“Live-it-up gene.”
Gode was frowning, and held up his hand again. “Redirect,” he said. “Back up. Rewind. Rethink. What’s our problem? This gene is really the gene for conventional wisdom—the conventional-wisdom gene—but we don’t want to say that. So. What’s
good
about conventional wisdom? What does embracing conventional wisdom do for a person? Quickly, now.”
“Makes you belong.”
“You don’t stand out.”
“You think like everybody else.”
“Reduces friction.”
“You fit in.”
“Means you read the
Times.
”
“Nobody looks at you funny.”
“Makes your life simpler.”
“No arguments.”
“Feel safe expressing an opinion.”
“Everybody agrees with you.”
“You’re a good person.”
“You feel good.”
“Makes you comfortable.”
Gode snapped his fingers and pointed. “
Good
. Conventional thinking makes us
comfortable
…Yes! No surprises, no distress. In the world out there, everything is constantly changing, every minute. It’s not a comfortable place. And everybody wants to feel comfortable, right? Old pair of shoes, comfortable sweats, favorite chair…”
“Comfortable gene?”
“Comfy gene.”
“Comfort gene. The comfort gene.”
“Warm and fuzzy gene. Warm gene?”
“Happy gene.”
“Friendly gene? Easy gene?”
“Soothing gene. Smooth gene.”
“Calm gene. Balm gene.”
This went on for a while, until finally there were nine candidates scrawled on the whiteboard. A furious argument ensued as names were deleted, though of course all the names would be concept-tested with focus groups. In the end, everybody agreed the winner would be the comfort gene.
“Let’s test it
in the field,” Gode said. “Professor? Tell us: Where is this gene going, commercially?”
It was too early to say, the professor explained. They had isolated the gene, but they didn’t yet know the full range of diseases associated with it. However, since nearly everybody in the world carried the comfort gene, they believed that many people probably suffered from genetic anomalies involving the gene. For example: People who were overly desirous of joining the majority—that might prove to be a genetic disorder. And people who felt depressed when they were alone, by themselves—conceivably, another disorder. People who joined
protest marches, went to sports games, who sought out situations where they would be surrounded by lots of like-minded people—a potential genetic disorder. Then there were people who felt obliged to agree with whomever they were with, no matter what was said—yet another disorder. And what about people who were afraid to think for themselves? Fear of independence from the surrounding group?
“Let’s face it, that’s a lot of people,” the professor said. “Nobody thinks for themselves if they can help it.”
“You mean all this behavior is going to be considered pathological?” someone asked.
“Any compulsive behavior is pathological,” the professor answered.
“But positive behavior? Protest marches?”
“Our position,” the professor said, “is that we are on the verge of identifying a range of disease states all related to sociability.” These genetic anomalies involving the comfort gene had not yet been definitively established, but Columbia University had applied for a patent on the gene itself, meaning that the gene would have increasing value as disorders involving it were identified with certainty.
Gode coughed. “We’ve made a mistake. These are all disorders of sociability. This needs to be the sociability gene.”
And so it was.
From
Business Online
:
SCIENTISTS FIND GENE FOR SOCIABILITY
Is the tendency to sociability inherited? Scientists at the Morecomb Laboratories, at Columbia University, believe that it is. They report they have found the gene that regulates it, and they have applied for a patent on the gene…
Op-Ed Commentary from the
New York Times
:
A “SOCIABILITY GENE”? WHEN WILL THIS NONSENSE STOP?
Columbia University researchers now claim to have found a sociability gene. What’s next? The shyness gene? The reclusive gene? The monastic gene? How about the get-off-my-back gene?
In truth, researchers are taking advantage of the public’s lack of knowledge about how genes actually operate. No single gene controls any behavioral trait. Unfortunately, the public doesn’t know that. They think there’s a gene for eye color, for height, and for hair curliness, so why not one for sociability? Geneticists will not speak out. They all sit on the boards of private companies, and are in a race to identify genes they can patent for their own profit.
Will this ever stop? Evidently not.
From
Grist
online:
FEELING SOCIABLE? THAT’S PATENTED
The research office of Columbia University has applied for a patent on a gene that it says controls sociability. Does this mean that one day everyone on antidepressants, or ADD medications, or anxiety medications, will have to pay a royalty to Columbia? Reportedly, pharmaceutical giants in Switzerland are bidding frantically to license the gene.