Ambition
can be deceptive. We often think we are doing things and thinking thoughts from
our own independent decisions based on our ambitions, when in actual fact we
could be fulfilling the ambitions of others around us or even the ambitions biologically
instilled into our human nature. Mauss and Descartes would both argue that
humans can form their own altruistic ambitions from their thoughts. Darwin
would disagree, probably joke about pretentious French philosophers, laugh, and
say that every human decision ultimately comes from an evolutionary standpoint
and a thirst for survival.
The
problem with speaking about ambition per se, is that we can never
really understand the ambitions of others until we can understand our own. In
his latest play, The Hard Problem, Tom Stoppard explores the “hard
problem” of consciousness which continues to plague scientists to this very day
- how have we evolved to think, experience, and create our own ambitions? And
are these ambitions altruistic, egotistic, or simply an illusion?
Prior
to 1951, an ant which repeatedly climbed a blade of grass to reach the tip
could appear to have its own ambition – perhaps it sought the best view of the
outer world; maybe it wanted achieve excellence within the field of grass-climbing.
Yet between the years of 1951-53, Wendell Krull and C.R. Mapes published a
number of studies about a parasite named Dicrocoelium dendriticum, explaining
the strange behaviour of the grass-climbing ant Olympians. According to these
papers, the parasite aims to use a cow’s liver as a host, but has to go through
a series of other hosts, including ants, to reach the liver. The parasite begins
its life in the liver before mating and delivering its eggs through the cow’s
faeces. The faeces are then consumed by snails which also excrete the hatched
parasite and leave it in the grass, ready for ants to ingest. As soon as an ant
ingests the parasite, it starts behaving differently. This is because the
parasite causes a change to the sub-esophageal ganglion of the ant (a cluster
of nerve cells which affect its behaviour). The infected ant will now feel a
compulsion, indeed an ambition, to climb the tallest blade of grass available.
This ambition only drives the ant because the parasite wants the ant to have a
greater chance of being ingested by a grazing cow in order for the parasite to
conclude its life cycle, back in a cow’s liver.
Although
Krull and Mapes’ findings seem removed from The Hard Problem, there is much
to learn about the morality of ambitions from an infected ant. People can
achieve greatness with conflicting ambitions; and conflicting ambitions can
often lead to greatness. It is important to realise that ambitions we think of
as our own can be mutated by the ambitions of those around us. As a sixteen
year old student, my personal ambitions could be influenced surreptitiously by
the ambitions of my parents or teachers. Much like the proverbial ant, I may be
climbing a career ladder in order to satisfy the whims of others. Whilst it is
important to aim for greatness, it is equally important to notice the source of
our ambitions. If not, one may climb all the way to the top of a blade of grass,
only to be eaten by a cow.
