January 5, 2026 | John Wise

A Central Computer in our Cells

Rather than functioning as a simple
 on-off switch, TORC1 behaves as a
highly integrated regulatory system.

What the Discovery of a “Central Computer” in our Cells Tells Us

By John D. Wise, PhD

The Cellular Computer We Almost Didn’t See

As our readers are aware, I teach philosophy for the University of Arizona. In early December, I came across a press release from U of A that I found intriguing: “University of Arizona scientists discover a ‘central computer’ hidden inside cells.” The amazing discovery was made in Andrew Capaldi’s lab and is the result of many years of admirable scientific work, both by Dr. Capaldi and his graduate students, led by Cristina Padilla, whose story is emphasized in the press release. Here’s how the press release begins:

For decades, biologists have known that a protein complex called TORC1 acts as a master regulator of cell growth—turning growth programs on when nutrients are available and shutting them down when conditions worsen.

Now, a new study conducted at the University of Arizona reveals that TORC1 is far more sophisticated than previously believed. Instead of functioning as a simple on and off switch, TORC1 behaves more like a central computer that integrates different signals and then selectively turns specific pathways on and off – tuning metabolism, energy-intensive processes and cell division, all in real time.

 “Multilayered regulation of TORC1 signaling by Ait1, Gcn2, and SEAC/GATOR during nitrogen limitation and starvation,” Nature Communications, November 29, 2025. This is the journal paper.

A Great Scientific Discovery

The TORC1 story begins with serendipity. In the mid-1960s, a Canadian medical expedition collected soil samples from Easter Island, also known as Rapa Nui. From that soil, researchers isolated a compound later named rapamycin, after the island where it was first discovered. Only years afterward did scientists begin to understand its remarkable biological effects, including its ability to suppress cell growth and extend lifespan in several organisms.

That path of inquiry eventually led to the identification of TORC1, short for Target of Rapamycin Complex 1. This is one of two specific sites in eukaryotic cells where rapamycin binds itself. For decades, biologists understood TORC1 as a master regulator of cell growth. When nutrients were abundant, TORC1 was active and growth proceeded. When nutrients were scarce, TORC1 shut growth down, and the cell conserved energy. It was a neat diagram and a tidy story, and for a long time it seemed sufficient.

The new study from the Capaldi Lab shows that this picture was radically incomplete.

Rather than functioning as a simple on-off switch, TORC1 behaves as a highly integrated regulatory system. Under realistic nutrient changes, the cell does not toggle between growth and starvation. It evaluates conditions, integrates multiple signals, and adopts distinct metabolic operating modes. One of these modes, newly characterized in this study, is called the Low Nitrogen Adaptive state, or LoNA.

The Cell’s Hidden Decision State: LoNA

LoNA appears when cells move from rich nutrients to poorer ones, not to starvation. In this state, the cell neither continues business as usual nor shuts down. Instead, it reorganizes itself. More than ninety percent of TORC1’s phosphorylation targets, the molecular settings through which it regulates cellular policy, shift to new configurations. Growth slows, but it does not stop. Metabolism is rebalanced. Transporters on the vacuole surface in yeast, or the lysosome in humans, are adjusted to draw in more resources. Autophagy begins in a limited and controlled way, recycling cellular components without triggering full shutdown.

This is not a dimmer switch. It is not half strength TORC1. LoNA is a discrete, stable metabolic state with its own priorities and internal coherence. High nutrients produce full growth. Severe starvation activates an emergency brake through regulators such as SEAC. LoNA stands between them as a fully formed adaptive strategy.

The discovery is both elegant and profound. It reveals TORC1 not as a simple pathway, but as a decision-making system with conditional logic, feedback, and distributed sensing. Calling it a “central computer” is not a metaphor of convenience.

It is a fair description of what the data reveal.

“A Central Computer Hidden in Plain Sight”

To picture this, think of the cell as a city with a central planning department. TORC1 is the planner. It receives reports from inside and outside the recycling center (vacuole/lysome) and decides how the city should respond. During LoNA, the reports change. Two messengers in particular carry the news. Ait1 tells TORC1 the nutrient quality has dropped, and Gcn2 senses that amino acids, the building blocks for proteins, are beginning to run low.

With these signals, TORC1 shifts the entire city into conservation mode. Work crews slow down. Supply chains are rerouted. Transporters on the recycling center surface open wider to pull in more resources. Light housekeeping begins (autophagy) –  old or damaged parts are broken down and reused. Growth continues, but only after costs have been cut and priorities rearranged. (Here I cannot help thinking of Dr. Buckland-Reynold’s recent article on wildlife flourishing through stress after Oregon’s wildfires.)

This is excellent science, and it deserves to be celebrated. The Capaldi Lab, including graduate student Cristina Padilla, whose work led to the identification of the LoNA state, has made a genuine contribution to our understanding of cellular life. We can all celebrate the advancement of scientific knowledge of God’s world, and appreciate that neither the press release nor the journal article mentioned the word “evolution” even once.

That alone is a win for ID theorists and creationists.

Why This Discovery Required a New Way of Seeing

However, the discoverers themselves raise an important question: why did it take so long to discover LoNA?

The answer lies in methodology. The Capaldi Lab approached TORC1 using “systems biology” rather than earlier reductionist frameworks. Systems biology treats the cell as an integrated regulatory system rather than as a collection of isolated components. It draws on control theory, network analysis, and feedback modeling, the same mathematical tools used to analyze engineered systems.

This approach to biology did not arise arbitrarily. It became necessary as decades of molecular research revealed behaviors that could not be explained by linear pathways alone. Cells regulate themselves. They adapt. They stabilize. They operate with layered priorities and integrated systems.

Systems biology emerged because reality demanded it.

By treating TORC1 as a system rather than a switch, the researchers were able to ask a different kind of question. Not “Which pathway is activated?” but “What operating mode does the system adopt under these conditions?” That change in perspective made the LoNA state visible.

In this sense, the success of the Capaldi Lab is inseparable from the methodological openness of systems biology. The discovery was not forced by theory. It emerged because the method allowed the cell to speak on its own terms.

When Discovery Outruns Explanation

Here the story takes a deeper turn.

Systems biology excels at discovery because it temporarily “brackets” metaphysical explanation and then models what shows up.[1] It assumes coherence long enough to measure it. By bracketing the evolutionary narrative, systems biology inadvertently returns to the original spirit of science: an unencumbered look at nature as it is, rather than as a theory requires it to be. It is a return to ‘seeing’ instead of ‘serving.’

Only afterward does the broader explanatory framework reassert itself, and often through brief gestures rather than causal accounts. Phrases such as “conserved across eukaryotes” locate a discovery within an accepted evolutionary narrative, but they do not explain how such integrated regulatory architectures arise in the first place.

It gets harder to rescue Darwin as he approaches the event horizon. (Adobe Firefly AI)

This tension is not new.

More than forty years ago, the evolutionary paleontologist Colin Patterson remarked publicly that when pressed for a comprehensive account of how evolution actually produces biological form, responsibility dissolved into deferral. Population geneticists pointed to development. Developmental biologists pointed to molecular mechanisms. Molecular biologists pointed to historical contingency. Each domain produced excellent local science, but no one owned the whole explanation.

Patterson was not alone. Stephen Jay Gould repeatedly emphasized that natural selection explains the sorting of forms rather than their origin. Richard Lewontin argued that evolutionary biology possessed powerful tools but no unified theory of form or organization. Stuart Kauffman concluded that selection alone could not account for the spontaneous emergence of biological order.

These were not fringe voices. They were leaders in the field. Their admissions did not dismantle evolutionary biology, but they revealed a longstanding explanatory gap. Systems biology arose in response to that gap, not to close it, but to work around it.

The Deeper Significance of Systems Biology

Systems biology can be thought of as a rescue device for evolutionary theory, a way to absorb overwhelming complexity without revisiting first principles. In practice, it does the opposite. By forcing biology to operate with the logic of control systems, feedback loops, and integrated decision-making, it exposes the incoherence of the underlying synthesis.

The discipline now proceeds as if biological systems were designed, while (at the end of the day) insisting they are not. This is not a minor tension.

It is a category error.

A materialist metaphysic that supplies only blind matter cannot sustain an epistemology that depends on purpose, coordination, and system-level rationality. The result is a form of conceptual schizophrenia. Engineering logic governs discovery. Narrative denial governs explanation. This attempt to reconcile the logic of an engineer with the metaphysics of an accident is the ultimate Hegelian synthesis – an irrational attempt to have the ‘Whole’ without the ‘Source’ that defines it.

Systems biology does not save evolutionary theory. It reveals how much must be borrowed, bracketed, or ignored for that theory to continue functioning at all.

Conclusion: The Greater Win

The LoNA state does not merely revise our understanding of TORC1. It reveals how far biological discovery has outpaced the explanatory structures meant to contain it. The cell is no longer treated as a chemical accident that occasionally behaves like a system. It is approached as a system from the outset.

The genie is out of the bottle.

The greater win here is not merely that we have discovered a “central computer” inside the cell. It is that discovering it required a way of seeing that no longer takes minimalism or blind accumulation as guiding assumptions. The denial has been forced back a step. It no longer governs what can be seen, only how what is seen is narrated.

Creation continues to speak in hierarchies that resist simplification and in systems that behave with discernible logic. Systems biology is superior as a method because it allows more of that reality to be seen, which used to be what science was about. Whether that reality will be allowed to correct the theory-assumptions remains an open question.

The truth was there all along. It was waiting for ears willing to hear and eyes open to seeing.

[1] This is a procedure with which I am intimately familiar as a philosopher. Two central players in my dissertation work, Edmund Husserl and Jean-Paul Sartre, used it to great effect. In short, the idea is this: before you start explaining you should know clearly and exhaustively what it is that requires explanation.


John Wise received his PhD in philosophy from the University of CA, Irvine in 2004. His dissertation was titled Sartre’s Phenomenological Ontology and the German Idealist Tradition. His area of specialization is 19th to early 20th century continental philosophy.

He tells the story of his 25-year odyssey from atheism to Christianity in the book, Through the Looking Glass: The Imploding of an Atheist Professor’s Worldview (available on Amazon). Since his return to Christ, his research interests include developing a Christian (YEC) philosophy of science and the integration of all human knowledge with God’s word.

He has taught philosophy for the University of CA, Irvine, East Stroudsburg University of PA, Grand Canyon University, American Intercontinental University, and Ashford University. He currently teaches online for the University of Arizona, Global Campus, and is a member of the Heterodox Academy. He and his wife Jenny are known online as The Christian Atheist with a podcast of that name, in addition to a YouTube channel: John and Jenny Wise.

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