I bet there is already a quantum aspect to biology. Why not?
Roger Penrose was a famous proponent of his hypothesis that the human brain uses quantum mechanics to do the amazing things it does. His conjectures have been proven wrong so far, and I expect they always will. As brilliant as the guy is, his hypotheses sound ridiculous to me.
(p. 400)
There is, in fact, at least one clear place where action at the single quantum
level can have importance for neural activity, and this is in the retina. (Recall
that the retina is technically part of the brain!) Experiments with toads have
shown that under suitable conditions, a single photon impinging on the
dark-adapted retina can be sufficient to trigger a macroscopic nerve signal
(Baylor, Lamb, and Yau 1979). The same appears to be true of man (Hecht,
Shlaer, and Pirenne 1941), but in this case there is an additional mechanism
present which suppresses such weak signals, so that they do not confuse the
perceived picture with too much visual 'noise'. A combined signal of about
seven photons is needed in order that a dark-adapted human subject can
actually become aware of their arrival. Nevertheless, cells with a single-photon
sensitivity do appear to be present in the human retina.
(p. 447)
Conclusion: a child's view
In this book I have presented many arguments intending to show the
untenability of the viewpoint--apparently rather prevalent in current philo-
sopohizing--that our thinking is basically the same as the action of some very
complicated computer. When the explicit assumption is made that the mere
enaction of an algorithm can evoke conscious awareness, Searle's terminology
'strong AI' has been adopted here. Other terms such as 'functionalism' are
sometimes used in a somewhat less specific way.
Some readers may, from the start, have regarded the 'strong-AI supporter'
as perhaps largely a straw man! Is it not 'obvious' that mere computation
cannot evoke pleasure or pain; that it cannot perceive poetry or the beauty of
an evening sky or the magic of sounds; that it cannot hope or love or despair;
that it cannot have a genuine autonomous purpose? Yet science seems to
have driven us to accept that we are all merely small parts of a world governed
in full detail (even if perhaps ultimately just probabilistically) by very precise
mathematical laws. Our brains themselves, which seem to control all our
actions, are also ruled by these same precise laws. The picture has emerged
that all this precise physical activity is, in effect, nothing more than the acting
out of some vast (perhaps probabilistic) computation--and, hence our brains
and our minds are to be understood solely in terms of such computations.
Perhaps when computations become extraordinarily complicated they can
begin to take on the more poetic or subjective qualities that we associate with
the term 'mind'. Yet is is hard to avoid an uncomfortable feeling that there
must always be something missing from such a picture.
In my own arguments I have tried to support this view that there must
indeed be something essential that is missing from any purely computational
picture. Yet I hold also to the hope that it is through science and mathematics
that some profound advances in the understanding of mind must eventually
come to light. There is an apparent dilemma here, but I have tried to show
that there is a genuine way out. Computability is not at all the same thing as
being mathematically precise. There is as much mystery and beauty as one
might wish in the precise Platonic mathematical world, and most of this
mystery resides with concepts that lie outside the comparatively limited part
of it where algorithms and computation reside.
Penrose, Roger. 1989.
The Emperor's New Mind: Concerning Computers, Mind, and The Laws of Physics. New York: Oxford University Press.