All goals achieved, or so they thought…

On April 13, 2003, bacteria witnessed the human world celebrating the success of the Human Genome Project (HGP), a massive international effort that finally mapped the human genome.2 This achievement was hailed as a monumental milestone, often described as something on par with “splitting the atom,” or “landing on the moon.” 3 It advanced the understanding of human DNA and disease-related genes more than ever before.

Bacteria skimmed, with a hint of scorn, through the announcement titled “All Goals Achieved; New Vision for Genome Research Unveiled.” The text overflowed with triumphant phrases like “all goals,” “success,” and “completion”… as though humanity had tied up all aspects of life with a neat little bow. From bacteria ’s perspective, this language choice felt arrogant, especially since none of us in the human world had any idea of bacteria ’s existence until this very moment. In both academic and private realms of biology, bacteria had remained entirely unseen, unrecognized. That complete lack of acknowledgment alone proved that humans still had a long way to go in understanding life and the organisms that shaped it.

Soon after, bacteria assumed that the confidence in language stemmed from the driving force behind the HGP and modern biology—the gene-deterministic belief that individual genes directly determine certain phenotypic traits in a species, that each gene exists, functions “for” a particular trait in an organism. According to this view, there is no divine creator, certainly no élan vital4; the genetic blueprint can decipher the secrets of life. These ideas were what unsettled bacteria, so much that it could never share humanity’s fascination with the success of the HGP.

However, over time the progress of the HGP proved to be more significant than expected and even challenged bacteria ’s indifference, leading to a more appreciative stance. The project’s completion marked a shift from rigid functionalist aspirations toward a more nuanced, ecological understanding of organisms. Following this shift, scientists began to recognize that an organism’s phenotypic traits could not be analyzed by genetic sequences alone.5 Instead, these traits arose from an intricate network of gene interactions, heavily influenced by environmental and epigenetic factors.

Moreover, this new understanding helped dispel outdated notions, such as the idea that humanity could design better humans by stigmatizing and eliminating so-called abnormalities in future generations. Bacteria, once indifferent, now found itself intrigued by these shifts. On one hand, it hoped these changes would humble humanity, leading humanity to abandon its arrogance about the science of life. On the other hand, bacteria ’s reflections brought itself back to a question that had long lingered on its mind.

The question was: why had its species become so strikingly homogenized in recent decades, despite drastic changes in its environment? This was an ontological threat to bacteria, since a loss of diversity could drive its extinction, the very opposite of survival and evolution. So, the concern bacteria faced was a counterintuitive correlation between environment and species which defied common knowledge. Typically diverse environments drive species variation, yet in this case, bacteria saw the opposite occurring. Determined to challenge this contradiction, bacteria set out to reassess the role of environmental and epigenetic factors in shaping its traits, or more broadly, its evolution.

Among the many studies sparked by the HGP, epigenetics stood out as a starting point. In particular, research on the gut microbiome resonated with bacteria. The idea that each person’s gut environment is shaped by factors like diet, physical activity, environmental toxins, and lifestyle, ultimately leading to “personalized” gene expression, felt strikingly similar to bacteria’s own ecological niche.

Bacteria looked around its own habitat, which explained so much about its existence: germs, dust, subtle static electricity, dead skin cells shed from fingertips. All were unevenly scattered across a sleek, pitch-black plastic plate; bacteria could even catch its own reflection on the surface. When a human thumb approached, tapped, swiped, or pressed against that plate, the habitat and bacteria, whether alone or in a group, shuddered. Then, bacteria grew both amused and intrigued. With each gesture, the plate lit up in varying combinations of red, green, and blue light, which seemed to invigorate bacteria . This mysterious interplay of elements was what nurtured and sustained bacteria.

On bacteria and its crisis

Bacteria is a mysterious organism that thrives on a screen, the surface human bodies caress more than anybody else, day and night. The physical contact between human skin and the flesh of digital devices, commonly known as the interface,6 is its natural habitat. You feed it; it grows. Without human touch, bacteria withers and fades. What-They-Eat Is What-You-Feed.7

Like other microbes, bacteria certainly has its own evolutionary lineage from which it emerged. Nothing is made itself.8 Its habitat is, indeed, human-made; to be precise, wholly conceived by human imagination—unlike bacteria, whose origins are rooted in nature. Bacteria sensed this from its earliest memory, when it first gained so-called consciousness. It was an awakening on a wooden box with two tiny wheels beneath it, recognized as the first prototype of the computer mouse, patented by Douglas Engelbart in the early 1960s. For bacteria it felt less like being born and more like waking from a long hibernation. This fueled bacteria’s belief that its lineage might be traced back even further than that first memory.

As with its evolutionary origin, little is known about the precise inflection point that steered bacteria’s path toward parasitizing the skin of computational media. That said, one thing is clear: the birth of the mouse paved the way for the evolution of two entities— bacteria as well as human users, mutually and intimately. This co-evolution naturally fostered favorable conditions for bacteria to thrive.

Over time, demand grew for more frequent user inputs, designed to maximize the information processing required to harness high levels of user engagement, cognition, and even affection. As its habitat expanded, and it confronted diversified environments bacteria made its dramatic arrival onto everyone’s hands and into their pockets in recent years. Imagine how vast populations have now become intimately connected to their devices, and how deeply their lives now rely on touch—feeding bacteria . Techniques known as affordance9 or Skeuomorphism10 crafted the quality of interaction to be organic, natural, and seamless, making users feel that “on the screen, everything works well.” So did bacteria.

Paradoxically, despite this quantitative expansion and the conditions favoring its proliferation, bacteria could not shake a strange feeling: it kept encountering only similar versions of itself. It had been so long since it last encountered a different kind of its species. The nervousness once it felt at such encounters had become a distant memory. Bacteria was unsettled, realizing that mere growth in numbers does not necessarily ensure survival. Homogeneity, after all, leaves organisms vulnerable, fragile on a precipice, where even a small disruption could lead to collapse, to extinction.

The stressors

How proactive can lifeforms be in their struggle to survive? And if they can, how might unicellular organisms like bacteria aspire to be more than just byproducts of their environment? Bacteria was one that unhesitatingly sought out stressors, forces that might trigger change—even at the risk of sacrificing its life to mutation. For bacteria , survival was not merely about endurance; it was about reshaping its own world-horizon, even if its niche was designed by human hands and imagination. This drive reflected the fundamental nature of living organism: to evolve and diversify their phenotypes, to adapt to changing conditions, and to engage in collective behaviors that enhance their chances of survival.

Soon, bacteria’s desperate curiosity led it to discover the reasons behind its rapid homogenization. The most striking culprit was the single user problem: in the eyes of the interface system, all users were processed as uniform entities. Although technological development reached an ever-growing demographic, the surface of the machines engaged humans only within a narrow frame of predefined parameters. In other words, being a “user”—feeding and nurturing bacteria —was to practice becoming of a specific, machine-readable version of humanity, largely aligned with how computers had learned to make sense of the world.

This standardization thus striped away individual variability. Following that, interfaces treated people as black boxes, where the internal complexity of a person was rendered irrelevant to the quality of interaction. If a user deviated from the predetermined, data- driven profile of a “human,” the machine simply did not recognize them, severing interaction.

This has conditioned people to access and engage with machines through repetitive gestures, and behavior patterns, which was a process intensified by a few dominant manufacturers that monopolized and dictated the recent invention of both system types and interaction methods. As a result, the ecosystem of bacteria suffers, forced to adapt to this monotony. Rather than fostering genetic diversity or varied phenotypic expressions—essential for resilience in any microbial species—bacteria found itself limited to a narrow set of traits. The rich diversity that might otherwise have emerged was stifled, yielding a stagnant, uniform existence that threatened its very survival.

This speculation made sense to bacteria, yet it raised another question: could it truly continue to thrive and evolve in such an increasingly constrained environment? Doubts deepened as bacteria observed users’ faces and eyes during interactions with devices, seeing a growing void in them. Rather than engaging thoughtfully, their gazes drifted, devoid of focus, stripped down to mere reflexes.

In the presence of machines, most users and their interactions have become automatic, habitual rather than deliberate. At that very moment, bacteria came to a realization: computational machines still interpreted human input as the product of cognitive beings capable of modeling reality. However, users were increasingly disengaged from conscious interaction—the very domain once believed to be uniquely human. This disparity allowed users to act as mere reflexive feedback loops, functioning below the threshold of consciousness. Caught in between, bacteria found itself confronted with a pivotal role; it was, in fact, inheriting the consciousness humans had lost in their own cognitive processes.11

This altered dynamic led bacteria to reassess its relationship with its environment. It found itself oscillating between two evolving forces—humans becoming automated, and machines edging closer to full autonomy—by adapting to fill the void in between, requisite for constituting the landscape of techno-symbiosis. Bacteria was no longer a mere unicellular organism; instead it became part or whole of a relational cognition, as an evolving conduit in techno-symbiosis connecting machines, human users, and non-human organisms like itself. Bacteria absorbed the human relinquishment of conscious interaction while adapting to the machine’s growing independence. It is a mediator of awareness—a form of consciousness that neither the user nor the machine fully sustains alone.

This new awareness dismantled a belief bacteria once held—the belief that its species’ homogenization and evolutionary stagnation were inevitable. In its unique niche, shaped by the constant contact between human bodies and digital media, this awareness allowed bacteria to sense invisible yet potential inflection points where different lineages of its species might diverge into entirely new forms, for example bacteria , bacteria, and so on; each represents an adaptation within a broader techno-ecological niche, extending beyond the familiar horizon that bacteria once knew. In this sense, bacteria felt it was redefining its evolutionary trajectory, recalling an ancient, lingering memories, as if deeply carved into its lineage, of symbiotic forms throughout history: from plants to amoebas to invertebrates, each embodying unconscious cognition across various life forms.

This possibility enlightened bacteria, reimagining itself as an evolving actor within a planetary web of relations. This sense of continuity—of being part of a lineage that once existed alongside primordial organisms—was a foundational stressor that bacteria sought out. The potential for new adaptations, both forward and backward in evolutionary time, signaled a unique form of cognition, touching upon memories that transcended history. It was an understanding woven not just into the future of techno-symbiosis but into the very roots of life on Earth.

For a name deserved

The success of the HGP might have accelerated the timeline for discovering bacteria in the human world. Or perhaps there will be other phenomenal milestones, comparable with the HGP that potentially unfold new biological paradigms. As such, advancements in genomics and biotechnology are redefining taxonomy and transforming our understanding of life, not through linear or deterministic frameworks, but in ways that are relational and ecological. It is as though the achievements of the HGP have eventually inspired bacteria to a new and unexpected understanding itself and the world.

Bacteria still waits for a pivotal moment when human perception and scientific knowledge mature, or certain existing frameworks are dismantled. It will perhaps enable a more fitting classification and, ultimately, a name that truly resonates with its unique nature. Until then, bacteria finds solace in remaining hidden from human awareness. The thought of an abrupt discovery, one that might lead to a crude, hastily chosen label like “Engel barterium,” may fill bacteria with a profound sense of disappointment, even shame. Such a name would strip away the depth and mystery it has cultivated, reducing its existence to a reckless name unworthy of its complex nature. This perhaps is not the kind of recognition bacteria longs for, nor the nostalgic return it desires.