And maybe that's just as well. If my brain had crowded its way into those few seconds, I might not have caught the rope at all. Fears, it seems, can enter the body directly, essentially avoiding the brain, and initiate a kind of coup d'etat when we sense danger. Although we humans pride ourselves on the evolution of the primate's big brain and especially the frontal lobe of the cerebral cortex, which serves as the seat of logic and reason, in times when our lives are threatened the frontal lobe stands as useless as an electric saw with no outlet. Since the mid-nineteenth century, at least, scientists have recognized fear and anger to be the most primitive emotions.
Fear readies the body for fighting or fleeing by releasing the stress hormones.
Those hormones, in turn, cause blood to be pumped to the muscles, energy-giving sugar to be released into the blood, and breathing to quicken. When Ken fell, I needed every bit of this biochemical help. In today's world, perhaps other dimensions of fear may be similarly vestigial, fear that in some cases can grow into paralyzing phobias. Finally, Ken sat safely at the top, with his end of the rope anchored at the flat peak. It was my turn to begin climbing.