The Growing Field of Biocomputing
Exploring a symbiotic hybrid of nature and technology.
Humanity began its divergence from nature when it discovered how to manipulate fire. Fire was the original technology, a leading tool in the development of our species. We began to use it to cook our food, making it easier to digest and freeing up energy which could then be employed for cognitive development. We used it to alter the landscape, clearing woodland and brush in order to make room for grazing and, eventually, farming. It was used to manipulate the materials around us. By placing stones amongst the flames, fire would remove certain impurities and make it easier to fashion them into tools. When coupled with a kiln it birthed ceramics. The introduction of a furnace and forge marked the next two time periods, the Bronze Age and the Iron Age. With each progression, we slid further away from nature and ever deeper into the realm of the artificial.
Calathea connected to ECG pads (c) the artist
In today’s world this divide between nature and the artificial is wider than ever. Our technology has become so complex that only a select few people understand how any of it works. Our phones and computers are shrouded in digital mysticism, their inner workings hidden in neat black boxes. It has become a new form of commodity fetishism. We covert these artefacts but we have no connection to their origins, no idea of how they were created or the true cost of the materials they’re made from. Our ignorance of all of these things allows the system behind their production to go unchallenged. If we don’t understand the technology, how are we meant to understand the problems associated with it? Even understanding isn’t a guarantee of being able to affect change. The systems behind production have become so entrenched that even the recent global pandemic, an unprecedented event, merely inconvenienced it.
Within my own project, I wanted to explore a possible meld of these two opposing worlds, nature and the artificial - a symbiotic hybrid between technology and biology. I approached the challenge by viewing it as a counterfactual history, imagining that had the technology of the last few centuries been developed with a contemporary understanding of science, could we then mitigate the environmental and social impact? Can I build a biocomputer?
The machine I built features two primary biological mechanisms. The first is a series of microbial fuel cells (MFCs). These cells are powered by the bacteria Geobacter sulfurreducens. Found in the anaerobic environments of river mud, Geobacter secretes waste electrons as a by-product of its respiration. My fuel cells are made from two carbon fibre electrodes, separated with a ceramic membrane. The Geobacter forms a biofilm on the outside of the cell and turns nutrients/pollutants in the water into electrical energy.
Microbial Fuel Cells by Sean T Ross (c) the artist
The second mechanism harnesses the electrical signals in vascular plants. By placing two bio-medical pads onto the leaves of the plant and one in the soil, you can record the shifting action potential (voltages) of the plant. These action potentials are very similar to those in the human nervous system. The voltages from the plants are in the millivolts so need to be slightly boosted before being able to interact with the other components in the biocomputer.
Calathea plant connected to ECG pads (c) the artist
My output is a radio signal. Hidden within it is randomly generated binary code that is recorded by the receiver. The resulting manuscript can then be examined to reveal the 8-digit codes associated with the letters of the alphabet. As more letters appear, they begin to form words, the Earth’s first words. This output reflects it being built during a lockdown. In a time when we are isolated from each other and the world, this contemporary communion with nature has more relevance than ever.
Professor Eduardo Miranda researches, composes and performs contemporary music at the interface of biology, computing and the human mind.
Image shows four slimemold memristors that regulate the electrical signals sent to the piano.
Another example of a contemporary biocomputer is one built by Professor Eduardo Miranda. His biocomputer was designed to co-compose music with slime mold (Physarum polycephalum), a creature that dwells on forest floors and was once considered a fungus. The Physarum polycephalum is used to build memristors, bio-electric components that have memory. The way these components work is by taking advantage of one of the slime mold’s unusual characteristics. When you pass an electric current through it, the groups of individual cells that make up the plasmodial tubes brace together, constricting the flow of electrons and increasing resistance. The higher the voltage, the more it braces. It’s this second fact that makes it a memristor, as it responds in a set way to a set voltage. Essentially, you input an electric signal and the slime mold outputs a modified version. Miranda uses a piano as an interface between himself and the slime mold. As Miranda plays a sound on the piano, a computer translates this into an electrical signal and sends it to the slime mold biocomputer. The biocomputer then outputs a modified electrical signal and sends it to some electromagnets that hover above the strings of the piano. These magnets cause the strings to vibrate and thus you have a concerto, courtesy of slime. The unique properties of the slime mean that it is making a considered contribution to this collaborative effort. It is not simply chance. When you provide a specific voltage, the slime’s physiological response will dictate the output, making its own mark on the overall symphony.
A petri-dish of slime mold (Physarum Polycephalum) (c) the artist
A slime mold memristor capsule (c) the artist
Looking to the future, however, will require more advanced biocomputers in order to make viable alternatives to classical computers. The answer to this lies in synthetic biology. Researchers at MIT have developed a tool that makes it possible to design DNA circuits for living cells. This tool, called Cello, is based on existing programming language, Verilog, which is used for designing electronic circuits. This breakthrough has vastly improved the efficiency, and lowered the cost, of bespoke DNA sequences. This is not only a promising sign for the biocomputer of the future but also indicates a reconciliation between nature and the artificial, a future where the two may be one and the same.