The Governor Refuses To Race

Inside the steam engine a small flywheel spins two weighted arms outward as speed climbs, and the arms, flung wide by their own hurry, choke the throttle before disaster arrives. It does not know disaster. It knows only the pull of its own motion, translated into restraint. The engine wants to run itself to pieces; the governor wants nothing, has no want, and yet it holds the whole machine back from its own appetite. Watch it closely enough and the question turns: what in the body performs this same office, unseen, unthanked, tightening exactly when the wanting grows too loud to survive itself.