Today I was explaining to a co-worker that scientists have been conducting tests on geckos to measure their ‘sticking power,’ as it were. They have looked at their toes (the geckos’ toes, not the scientists’) under microscopes to see just how they do what they do. They have experimented with giving the geckos different materials on which to climb. One of the goals, of course, is to be able to imitate that incredible climbing ability and translate it to humans. One group is supposedly very close to inventing a glove that has the same properties as the geckos’ toes.
The end result of all of these tests is that there is only one substance on the planet to which geckos can’t stick: Teflon. They can’t do it. All their incredible sticking power avails them naught.
So this got me to thinking: what sort of tests did they conduct? How did they log the results? I mean, this would be a job I could do:
June 12, 1998: Used two 12” sauté pans and a 36” griddle, all surfaced with Teflon. Geckos still unable to stick. Will investigate further.
June 28, 1998: Geckos still unable to cling to Teflon. Have begun to notice a general feeling of discontent among the experimental population.
You see, I’m picturing these scientists tossing all these geckos at walls covered with Teflon and watching gecko after gecko fall to the floor, unable to stick. And I would think that it would eventually start to give the geckos a feeling of inadequacy – of impotence. “Yeah, Bob, today they tossed me on that infernal wall again, and I couldn’t stick again. What kind of gecko am I? What good am I?” And those feelings might begin to pervade all aspects of their lives.
The other side of the coin, of course, is this: What if one of the geckos experienced a sudden genetic mutation that allowed it to adhere to Teflon? First of all, it would definitely screw up their experimental results to have one super-gecko suddenly climbing to the roof. And secondly, they couldn’t very well let that one reproduce, could they? Because before you know it the world would be overrun with Teflon-climbing geckos, and I don’t think we’re ready for that.
This is the kind of thing that keeps me up nights.
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