The debate between nature and nurture has grown as ambiguous and mutated as my genes themselves. The answer is obvious; genes provide us with the fabric and thread, while our environment provides us with the creativity to convert the cloth into clothing. With questions of visual development, researchers have touched on the aspects of what, when, where, and how.
What: Development of a normal visual system
When: Embryo to Newborn Infant to Adult
Where: Eyes, Optic Nerve, and Brain (Visual Cortex)
How: Neurons, Receptors, etc
Now the why question is the true fascinating inquisition that tends to scurry behind his peers. Why do our genes dictate certain proteins to be synthesized to put in place the vast complications of the visual system? What is the driving force behind this mechanism? Why did Ben Underwood’s genes select for echolocation over vision? In what capacities has this limited our interaction with our environment? Perhaps I need to set-up an interview through God’s publicist to have these questions answered. In the meantime, however, I will hypothesize possible theories and explanations.
Obviously, our genes are accompanied by a set of instructions similar to the one associated with its predecessor. When this basic structure is put into practice, it begins to unfold the limitations, which places the system into over-drive, attempting to repair and renovate gaps to produce the most efficient machine possible. If you were born and raised in a dimly lighted environment, such as a cave or a movie theatre, you would have a far greater number of rods than cones in your retina. Now if I were raised in total darkness, yet objects could be differentiated by heat (a concept utilized by snakes), then would I be able to see infrared radiation (IR)? Since it would be unethical to test this on humans, it cannot be faithfully answered. However, one could theorize that some sort of mechanism would develop to allow this transition to occur. Necessity may be the mother of invention, but Purpose is her nagging mother-in-law.
