When the Small Things Mattered
The pixels that change the picture
The medication intended to help with morning sickness in the 1950s was banned a decade later because of its effects on the unborn.
Now used to treat other diseases like Multiple Myeloma, thalidomide was once sold to pregnant ladies as a cure for morning sickness. The technical name for this disease is hyperemesis gravidarum.
In the first trimester, expectant mothers can puke to extreme extents demanding hospital admission. Nausea is a state none of us would like consistently to be in. So thalidomide was sold as a wonder drug.
The result was babies born with short stumps for limbs. The elongation of limbs, while inside the uterus, was cut short because of exposure to our ‘wonder’ drug. Initially, it was deemed safe for pregnancy. Indeed, it was safe for the mothers, but not for the growing being.
It had to be scrapped off.
When conducting human studies, vulnerable groups are bound to be outliers. They are, however, the ones who hold the greatest risk for drug-producing companies should their product have untoward effects.
The small group hinted at the small things that mattered.
They were the pixels that changed the narrative of the whole picture.
A gift, a message, a call, and showing up
Small gestures tend to get dismissed in light of the big ones.
Kenyans might celebrate when Manchester City loses, but they won’t know the result of Kariobangi Sharks’ latest game. Kariobangi Sharks football club is a small group—a stain on the great canvas.
Those who care are the few football fanatics who reside in Kariobangi. They know the essence of local support. It’s the basis of most home game wins. You can’t show up at our home, in our field, and defeat us. South Americans have a long history of resorting to violence whenever their home team loses.
We don’t like defeat.
Those present when we lose, those who show support against the odds, those who come through when the world is pitted against us — those are the people we remember. They showed up.
I recently started a festival, Funkie Fest, which I intend to expand globally. I shared the event with anyone I could. I was super excited about it, much more than the people I was inviting. Those I will always remember are the ones who attended the pioneer festival. They showed up.
While the attendees left for their various destinations, you could hear different voices confirm with one another:
Text me when you get home.
I used to take these words lightly. Nowadays I don’t. After a good friend told me how someone’s phone got stolen en route back home, or the persistent worry one may have after not receiving that confirmatory text, I make sure it’s the first thing I send to those I had promised.
Or make the call.
We visited our mother for the festive holidays. It was a long time since I had such a Christmas event. For the last two years, I have been at work on Christmas Day. This year, I was free.
I loved it. The house was warmed with laughter. The stomachs were filled with rich recipes. The minds were loaded with memories.
And while we departed in the evening, the Queen Bee insisted:
When you get home, call me.
She added:
I will assume that whoever hasn’t called hasn’t reached home.
What I decoded was this small gesture mattered. A text. A call. A confirmation.
I often share my daily posts in various WhatsApp groups. Last week, I missed a group, unintentionally, for one day or two. One of the members flagged it. I didn’t know I had such an ardent following. The small act of sharing the photo and the link does matter after all.
Such small acts that history forgets can dictate much of what the future holds. As small as they are, they also apply in phase transitions and evolution.
Phase transitions and evolution
Phase transition is a phenomenon we see from the moment we step into a kitchen.
A boiling pot or saucepan is a relatable example. At a set constant temperature, the liquid turns into a gas. I imagine a war between particle bonds and heat. Heat acquires a form of power capable of breaking the bonds holding the liquid particles together. In a roar of triumph, they boil their way through the liquid.
Phase transitions are a scientific way of acknowledging the role of the small events that matter. The difference between 2 degrees Celcius and 1 degree Celsius is meaningless. But the one between 1 degree Celsius and 0 degree Celius is as clear as water and ice. The small change matters.
Particle dynamics are the basis of statistical interpretations of properties through thermodynamics and biochemistry. On one end, phase transitions can be explained in various layers of complexity through threshold dynamics. On the other, the assumption of particles as identical to one another is the basis of the gas laws.
To establish these gas laws, the assumption was that the more the particles, the easier it was to eliminate the initial conditions. The different variables cancel out leaving a homogenous entity whose overall features can be predicted. This perspective tends to avoid the importance of the small matters.
Factor in temperature and these small aspects resurface. Temperature, after all, is a quality emergent from the movement of these particles.
Helium, as it transitions into liquid form, attains an almost miraculous change. At -269 degrees Celsius, it homogenizes into liquid, attaining a property of near zero viscousity. Phase transitions change the properties of the constituents.
Water takes the shape of a container. In the solid state, ice is larger and more rigid. This is the result of the small difference between 1 degree Celsius and 0 degree Celsius.
The same rule of including large numbers to forget the relevance of the initial conditions is often included in evolution. Evolution by Natural Selection works in populations. It also relies on long-term data. The basis of the development of the Organismal Selection hinges on the question:
Can Natural Selection explain the first organism?
Short time intervals are considered irrelevant in evolution. It’s why an infertile animal such as a mule is considered an evolutionary dead-end. Furthermore, solitary organisms are also not that interesting in evolution. Apparently.
Why?
Biology is supposed to make sense only when viewed under the lens of evolution. Apparently.
Yet, this theory of evolution hardly holds much power in describing the first organism. This first organism is the reason we are all here. In the grand scheme of the existence of our shared universe, the first organism shouldn’t have lasted for a long time. But whatever it did when it became ‘alive’ or existed, was enough time to begin biological evolution.
It was at a time when it mattered. The pixel in life was responsible for the webs and trees of life we constructed. The pixel was the picture.
As E. O. Wilson, who focused on ants, termites, and bees will tell you, small things matter. I would insist that small time frames matter just as much.
What I’m trying to say is…
It’s strange to write about small things because you can never exhaust them.
Plus for a writer of my stripe with a super modest audience, my small article wouldn’t spread as far as I would hope.
Regardless, the small steps, small gestures, and small transitions we make, acknowledge, and observe are just as important in formulating the big picture. It’s the little things.
The picture needs the pixel.
This song inspired some of the lines used in this article. Source — YouTube