The Theory and Practice of Sheep Design

The 13th edition of The Theory and Practice of Sheep Design reached university bookshops around the country today. Its author, O.V. Saries, Ph.D., D.Sc., is the Chief Research Scientist at the Central Sheep Research Institute. He is a visiting professor of cybernetics at numerous reputed universities around the world. He has graciously granted us permission to use excerpts from his seminal work. (DISCLOSURE: The author of this article was a student of Prof. Saries)

Prof. O.V. Saries does not like to be photographed. “Nobody wants to see yet another old man,” he says as we walk towards his study. “And, please do try not to use the word seminal when you write about my work.” He holds the door open for me. “Wait here.” Then, he smiles and says, “I’ll be back.” I remember that he hated that film… But, luckily for me, the good professor is in an uncharacteristically jovial mood.

Bookshelves cover every wall in the large study. Astronomy, Chess, Mathematics, Botany, Economics, Biology, Computer Science, History… The autobiography, and many biographies of Gandhi; travelogues by Naipaul and Theroux; a shelf of the Stephens: Pinker, Fry and Gould; an entire shelf on mythology; a complete 45-volume set of The Collected Works of Lenin occupies two shelves; the collected works of the Karl, are sandwiched between the two volumes of the other Karl’s critique. Two omissions from the professor’s eclectic library stand out: there is no fiction of any kind, and his own book is missing from the shelves.

A copy of the new 13th edition lies on his desk. Multicoloured tabs sprout from its pages, many of which are marked with cryptic scribbles in the margins—’ add?’,’ revise?’,’ now only of historical interest?’. Already the spine is creased, and a sub-section called Post-Pavlovian Response Conditioning is crossed out and renamed Modern Conditioning. Already the 13th edition—printed just last week—is becoming the 14th. The Professor’s passion and perfectionism (and, perhaps, the slightest smidgen of self-doubt?) are exactly the way I remember them when I was his student.

The preface begins thus:

(excerpt) Sheep are essential to the growth and well-being of our motherland. They are useful at every stage in their lives. Their hides provide wool and leather, their organs and bone marrow are, nowadays, fully bio-compatible with humans, and they may be culled at any time to provide meat for the table. Our country, indeed the entire human race, survives because of its sheep.

The window affords a panoramic view of all activities at CSRI. Experimental sheep graze in open pastures and segregated paddocks spanning the entire eastern horizon; to the west is the famous Ruminant Biology Laboratory, and the abattoir; the professor’s study is located on the ground floor in the main building, with the Institute of Genetics and Psychology, and the Institute of Ruminant Cybernetics—my alma mater. Through a double-glazed window I see a hydroponics laboratory in the adjacent room. In it are twenty cauliflowers, each growing inside a sealed polycarbonate box. Numerous wires and probes are attached to the box, and to the vegetable inside it. I recognize sensors for temperature, nutrient flow, pH, infrared imaging, and a few others. The good professor has not lost the obsessive-compulsive need to record every conceivable variable that might influence the health of his beloved sheep.

Professor Saries returns with a potted cauliflower, which he places on his desk. He nods at my copy of the 13th edition “Let me guess: You’ve already called it ‘seminal’ haven’t you? It’s good to see you again, Meursault.”

Could you please explain Ruminant Cybernetics and Ruminant Psychology in terms that are suitable for a layperson?

(excerpt) Let us consider the CSRI Standard Sheep Model-2004 (commonly called the Standard Sheep), which is bred for meat and wool. We want the animal to eat an appropriate amount of food—just enough to grow a fine coat of wool on a delicious substrate of muscle and fat. The quality of wool and meat is inferior in a malnourished sheep, obviously, but also in an obese sheep. […] How does one regulate the amount of food available to each animal in the flock? Primitive solutions to this problem are mechanical, and they require extensive stockades, weighing stations, and continuous monitoring of feed.

It’s quite simple, really. The problem is that we want to train the sheep to eat exactly the amount that is appropriate without supervision. The solution to this problem led to the creation of the field of Ruminant Psychology–to learn how sheep think, and then influence what they think about. Orwellian conditioning using Pavlovian techniques was the first approach. Using external stimuli, we were able to stimulate or suppress the production of hunger hormones in sheep. However, we found that while such techniques are effective, they are neither flexible nor adaptable. Also, every generation of sheep would have to be trained since psychological conditioning is not transmitted genetically into offspring.

Cybernetics is often associated with robotics, such as mechanical limbs and so forth. The photograph used on the cover of my book [Editor’s note: The photograph is of the prototype sheep SS Model-1984 Type A] had artificial limbs. Obviously, we were not interested in creating grotesque robotic-sheep. No. These were used to investigate and measure the relationships between those neurons in the brain that control movement, and the stimuli received at the limbs. The most important cybernetic implants that we design are installed inside the brain: hundreds of thousands of miniature bio-electronic sensors and bio-mechanical pumps that measure and regulate the concentrations of hormones and neurotransmitters in the brain. Cybernetics asks and answers such questions as: which hormones and neurotransmitters in what parts of the brain trigger which emotions or incite what desires? Once these data are known, the psycho-geneticists take over…

I see. So cybernetics provide data for psycho-geneticists?

Psycho-genetics is the science of applying what we have learnt from the entire system of cybernetic implants. We engineer the sheep’s genome so that its brain cells manufacture proteins that reproduce what was done by the cybernetic brain implants. The process is repeated with every generation, with the ultimate goal of eliminating all cybernetic components in the brain.

So, each successive generation has a simpler brain than its predecessor? Fewer implants?

Precisely. The 84 Type F didn’t have mechanical limbs. We had mapped, precisely, all transmitters in the brain that triggered movement in the legs. We also had an accurate map of the retina and the optic nerve. Whereas the prototype Model A had cybernetic implants that instructed its artificial limbs to walk, Model F didn’t need them. When it saw an open gate, it walked toward it. When it saw a closed gate, it ignored it. Its brain did not ‘see’ a closed gate. The process was completely automatic. It did not “need” to walk or “want” to walk or even “know” what it means to walk.

You mention Behavioural Equilibrium Arc Definitions (BEARD) in your book.

BEARDs refer to certain kinds of basic mental states that combine to create complex mental states. The BEARD concept has been on its way out since the 4th edition since these are better suited to non-quantitative fields such as human psychology. Ruminant psychology is an exact science since all mental states of modern sheep are not only known, but entirely programmable. I’ll explain with an analogy though I dislike using them.

Imagine yourself standing on a roundabout that rotates fast, but not so fast as to trigger unpleasantness or vertigo. You are blindfolded. Your inner ear–which detects changes in motion or orientation–reports that you are moving, but without visual cues, your brain cannot accurately determine your velocity or direction.

Now imagine two flags. Let us call them pure sorrow and pure happiness–placed in the ground near the roundabout. Your mind feels happy when you are close to the happy flag, and is sad in proximity to the sad flag. You are then blindfolded, and the roundabout is set in motion. You feel, alternately, happy and sad! Do you see what I’m trying to say? But now, the roundabout speeds up, incrementally. Soon, you are feeling happy and sad within seconds. If your mind fluctuates rapidly enough between these two extremes you will learn to ignore both–just like astronauts learn to ignore their inner ears when they are in free fall. Your mind will simply redefine the entire arc of emotion as a single emotion, i.e. as a point at rest midway between joy and sorrow. Human minds are too complex to sustain this delusion, but a sheep’s mind accepts it in an instant. The cybernetic implants in the brain measure, with picoliter accuracy, any changes in brain chemistry during the entire process… Et Voila! We don’t need the roundabout any more–we merely alter a sheep’s genome to reproduce this state, and it is never happy nor sad. Or, if you prefer, it is simultaneously happy and sad!

That’s quite a Buddhist analogy…

I use analogies in the book, but always with a caveat: analogies are not models of the mind, they merely represent concepts using geometric forms. Ancient humans postulated the basic axioms of geometry and, almost immediately, tried to use these to solve philosophical problems. Such enquiries, well-intentioned as they were, gave us a heap of fanciful geometric analogies such as “The Circle of Life”, “The Middle Path, “The Centre of the Soul”, “A Love Triangle”, or indeed, “The Mental Roller-coaster” or “The Emotional Roundabout” that I just described to you. These analogies may help a layperson visualise the situation, but you should always remember that analogies are not models, not even approximate ones.

So you’re saying that the Standard Sheep experiences neither happiness nor sorrow?

I’m saying that the Standard Sheep doesn’t know the difference. It simultaneously feels happy, sad, angry, confused, curious, bored, and every other emotion you can describe. Indeed, I would wager that a human being cannot describe all the emotional states that a sheep experiences!

How is such a combined mental state useful?

We tell the sheep what it feels, and it accepts it. We know where to pump specific endorphins into the sheep to make it believe that it is in love. Coupled with data from the optic nerve, we can engineer sheep to respond to anything they see. Indeed, we have made a sheep fall in love with a lamppost. The 2014 Model BB, developed for Burger Baron®, is programmed to be madly in love with the conveyor belt at their abattoirs. It is also programmed to join a queue whenever it sees one. Do you see how this might be useful? When the sheep are ready for the table, all that is required is to open the doors of the abattoir: the nearest 2014 BB will walk to the conveyor and stand upon it. The rest will queue up behind, waiting their turn.

They paid 100-billion dollars for sheep that love to line up for slaughter…

They paid primarily for exclusive licensing of our bi-maternal delayed diploid parthenogenesis technology, but the number is more-or-less correct.[Editor’s note: Parthenogenesis, from the Greek meaning ‘virgin birth’, is a form of asexual reproduction, common in plants and many animals. The entire population of CSRI Model 2014 BB consists of female sheep that give birth to self-fertilised pregnant clones of themselves.] Burger Baron® bought the genome, and a batch of identical genetically-engineered prototype embryos which were raised to become the breeding stock. All 2014 BB sheep are their own mothers, grandmothers, and sisters. Their behaviour is programmable externally, via telescreen.

TV? Is that how you re-program them??

Yes. Telescreens. The command could be visual or acoustic. Sheep Managers tend to use television screens placed around the field. Telescreens, in turn, can programmed via satellite or other wireless means. And, of course, all sheep are programmed to look at the nearest telescreen at least once every five minutes allowing Managers to transmit any instructions directly into its brain. The NSA requires that every sheep must understand seven basic commands: Eat, Bleat, Silence, Sleep, Stop, Follow the sheep directly ahead, and Watch TV. [Editor’s Note: NSA–National Sheep Association.]

All current research builds upon the 2014 BB?

The 2014 BB has a minimal brain that is incapable of independent thought. While they are perfectly suited for their role as the source of cheap, nutritious, tasty burger patties, they are useless as a research platform. Also, the R&D process with live animal brains is too slow; each iteration of testing and refinement takes years. Since 2014, we have used transplanted brains that can be programmed outside the sheep…

Sorry for interrupting you, Professor. Did you say “transplanted brains”? You raise sheep, and transplant their brains?

Of course not, my dear chap! That would be ridiculously wasteful. We don’t need a sheep brain. Any primitive brain will do, and we grow them here on a farm. There’s one right behind you.

Where? I blinked at the potted cauliflower. The cauliflower?

A genetically-modified cauliflower that functions as a sheep brain! It will continue to evolve, I’m sure, but students of sheep design ought to learn about growing vegetative brains and, as such, the fourteenth edition of my book will include an entire chapter on the process.

This cauliflower is a brain?

Is it that difficult to imagine? The autonomous nervous and endocrine systems of an animal perform most of the essential functions associated with ‘life.’ A human is considered alive even if the entire cerebrum—accounting for 85% of the brain—is non-functional! In medical terms, this state in humans is often referred to as a ‘vegetative state’. Our research has demonstrated that genetically modified cauliflower can replicate nearly all the functions of a sheep’s brain. The intercellular connexions within a cauliflower can process rudimentary sensory inputs, fully replace the cerebellum for motor functions, and regulate the limbic system; it handles respiration, circulation, digestion, and excretion without conscious input, as is the case with humans. Sufficient vegetative grey matter remains for rudimentary thoughts and memories. Once the cauliflower-brain matures, it is removed from its hydroponic gel and transplanted into the sheep’s head. The sheep’s own brain nourishes the implant until the roots fuse with the brain stem and optic nerve. Voilà!

How do they see without a visual cortex?

The cauliflower brain has a rudimentary visual cortex that perceives 2-bit information.

They literally see only black and white? No shades of grey? No colours?

That’s correct. Standard Sheep have no use for subtlety and nuance. Incidentally, the very first generation of cauliflower brains–like the one in the pot behind you–could perceive 8-bit RGB colour at a resolution of a little more than one megapixel. More than half of its brain was used–was wasted, quite frankly–to process the information from the sheep’s eyes. Do you see the input sockets? It has basic hearing too. It can sense vibrations on the two tendrils that you see by its side.

I stared at the cauliflower. Where each of the eyes could be connected, was a tiny square grid of barely-visible dots. This was a sodium-channel interface: each dot was a tiny teardrop whose concentration or ‘saltiness’ could be varied almost instantaneously.

Is that a mouth?

That is a bio-gel intake port. The roots tend to dry out if they aren’t moisturised from the inside. Someone managed to port a Large Language Model–a clone of ChatGPT if memory serves–into the Gen Zero prototypes, which allows them to talk in the sense that an LLM can talk. It was one of Prof. Bizet’s projects. He was always distracted by the possibilities of what could be done instead of focusing on what was useful. Drove him crazy.

I noticed that the kennels for the sheep-dogs are no longer where they used to be… Has the Canine Research Lab moved elsewhere?

Ah. Command and control! We don’t use dogs any more! Dogs are a terrible waste of resources.

Why? What changed?

Dogs are knowingly, wilfully, and voluntarily loyal to their masters. That aspect of their personality–that pure, Kantian loyalty–has always bothered me, especially my aversion to the wasteful, the surplus, the unnecessary, the useless, the extraneous… I digress…

The sheep should be loyal, instead of the dogs?

Loyalty implies choice. Any control system that allows choice also allows the possibility of counter-productive outcomes. Control, by definition, ought to exclude choice. Sheep must merely obey. The problem lies in the propagation of a command. Let’s say we command a dog to herd sheep into a stockade. It runs back and forth around the flock to propagate that command This can take a while because sheep will respond to the command only if they can see or hear the dog. The larger the flock, the more dogs one needs. Now that we have an externally programmable cauliflower brain, we have replaced the sheep-dog with a dog-sheep.

A dog-sheep?

We command a sheep to assume the role of a dog. Upon receiving this command, it behaves as if it were a dog. It bleats in staccato as if it were barking, it bares its teeth, and it runs around the flock trying to ‘herd’ it, and so on.

It goes “baa-rk, baa-rk” instead of “baa, baa”?

Very droll, Meursault. Its behaviour while performing this role may appear comical to us, but not to the other sheep in the flock. While we perceive a plump, benign sheep, red-faced from the exertion of running and bleating, the flock reacts as if this sheep were a vicious German Shepherd. When the flock has been herded, the dog-sheep is commanded to resume its role as a sheep. We have used this technique to create other roles. We have Mental, Transcendental, Ornamental, Interdepartmental, and Judgmental Sheep. The cybernetic matrix of a ‘dog-sheep’ is derived from the Judgemental class of roles.

What do the other matrices do?

Mental Sheep can read simple paperwork and QR codes, Ornamental Sheep are designed to look attractive to other sheep, Judgemental Sheep are guards and enforcers, and Interdepartmental Sheep can do a bit of everything. During the alpha-testing phase, one of Bizet’s students programmed kung-fu poses into the Interdepartmental matrix. A crude joke, made worse by an oversight: the code was never deleted and there are a few million sheep out there who think they know kung-fu. Happily, for us, the telescreen activation codes to enable Kung-fu Sheep were classified. Unfortunately, the code is sometimes triggered by random mental fluctuations.

I see. So a flock of hundreds only requires a dozen dog-sheep with cauliflower brains.

Fewer. One-tenth of one per cent. And when they are ready to retire after many years of service, they simply queue up behind their flock-mates. Their meat is just as delicious, you know. Indeed, I believe BB sells dog-sheep burger patties at a significant premium.

I am uncertain if I should applaud your work, Professor.

Ah! Meursault. Applause has no purpose. I hope you have what you need for your article. But I’m afraid our time is up. Why don’t you take this specimen with you? Feed him standard bio gel–multivitamins, psyllium husk, and neutral pH buffer–you recall the recipe and protocol, of course? With a smile and a nod, he gestured towards the cauliflower. I recognised the signs–his mind had moved on to something else…

I left with the potted cauliflower. I fed it and outfitted it with a pair of USB cameras. Now, as I document the interview, I am looking at the cauliflower. And it is looking at me. His name is Albert.

Editor’s note: This article was written a year ago. A few months ago, Meursault and Smith finagled a circuit to connect Albert’s sodium-channel interface to our wi-fi router. Albert found the internet! He found Wikipedia, which he ignored permanently when he found YouTube and Netflix. He is now considered a member of the resident Paradox. Read his work here.