Gaia

Bliss looked amused. “I don’t know if you’re going to believe this, Trev. I’m Gaia.”

Trevize stared. He had often heard the phrase, “collect one’s thoughts” used metaphorically. For the first time in his life, he felt as though he were engaged in the process literally. Finally he said, “You?”

“Yes. And the ground. And those trees. And that rabbit over there in the grass. And the man you can see through the trees. The whole planet and everything on it is Gaia. We’re all individuals—we’re all separate organisms—but we all share an overall consciousness. The inanimate planet does so least of all, the various forms of life to a varying degree, and human beings most of all—but we all share.”

Pelorat said, “I think, Trevize, that she means Gaia is some sort of group consciousness.”

Trevize nodded. “I gathered that. —In that case, Bliss, who runs this world?”

Bliss said, “It runs itself. Those trees grow in rank and file of their own accord. They multiply only to the extent that is needed to replace those that for any reason die. Human beings harvest the apples that are needed; other animals, including insects, eat their share—and only their share.”

“The insects know what their share is, do they?” said Trevize.

“Yes, they do—in a way. It rains when it is necessary and occasionally it rains rather hard when that is necessary—and occasionally there’s a siege of dry weather when that is necessary.”

“And the rain knows what to do, does it?”

“Yes, it does,” said Bliss very seriously. “In your own body, don’t all the different cells know what to do? When to grow and when to stop growing? When to form certain substances and when not to—and when
they form them, just how much to form, neither more nor less? Each cell is, to a certain extent, an independent chemical factory, but all draw from a common fund of raw materials brought to it by a common transportation system, all deliver wastes into common channels, and all contribute to an overall group consciousness.”

Pelorat said with a certain enthusiasm. “But that’s remarkable. You are saying that the planet is a superorganism and that you are a cell of that superorganism.”

“I’m making an analogy, not an identity. We are the analog of cells, but we are not identical with cells—do you understand?”

“In what way,” said Trevize, “are you not cells?”

“We are ourselves made up of cells and have a group consciousness, as far as cells are concerned. This group consciousness, this consciousness of an individual organism—a human being, in my case—”

“With a body men die for.”

“Exactly. My consciousness is far advanced beyond that of any individual cell—incredibly far advanced. The fact that we, in turn, are part of a still greater group consciousness on a higher level does not reduce us to the level of cells. I remain a human being—but above us is a group consciousness as far beyond my grasp as my consciousness is beyond that of one of the muscle cells of my biceps.”

Trevize said, “Surely someone ordered our ship to be taken.”

“No, not someone! Gaia ordered it. All of us ordered it.”

“The trees and the ground, too, Bliss?”

“They contributed very little, but they contributed. Look, if a musician writes a symphony, do you ask which particular cell in his body ordered the symphony written and supervised its construction?”

Pelorat said, “And, I take it, the group mind, so to speak, of the group consciousness is much stronger than an individual mind, just as a muscle is much stronger than an individual muscle cell. Consequently Gaia can capture our ship at a distance by controlling our computer, even though
no individual mind on the planet could have done so.”

Chapter 17