progress is lovely, isn't it?" To which
Bernard glumly responds by muttering the hypnopedic formula that imprinted her brain with the phrase."Liquid air, television, vibro-vacuum massage, radio, boiling caffeine solution, hot contraceptives, and eight different kinds of scent were laid on in every bedroom. The synthetic music plant was working as they entered the hall and left nothing to be desired. A notice in the lift announced that there were sixty Escalator-Squash-Racket Courts in the hotel, and that Obstacle and Electro-magnetic Golf could both be played in the park."
"But it sounds simply too lovely," cried Lenina. "I almost wish we could stay here. Sixty Escalator-Squash Courts . . ."
"There won't be any in the Reservation," Bernard warned her. "And no scent, no television, no hot water even. If you feel you can't stand it, stay here till I come back."
Lenina was quite offended. "Of course I can stand it. I only said it was lovely here because . . . well, because progress is lovely, isn't it?"
"Five hundred repetitions once a week from thirteen to seventeen," said Bernard wearily, as though to himself."
Unlike the Daphnia, contemporary human "adaptations" are the excretions and extrusions of technology, not our own biology. While our technologies do help us to encounter various environments successfully, most often they keep us from having to adapt and since they are not a part of our bodies they can be lost or taken away. If we genetically generated our own tools from our own bodies or if we could re-grow an organ or a limb, we might be closer to a durable adaptation, but what genetic engineering would it take to get us there?