Disclaimer: I am now retired, and am therefore no longer an expert on anything. This blog post presents only my opinions, and anything in it should not be relied on.
New books by Alice Roberts (“Taming”) and E.O. Wilson (“Genesis”) seem to me to deliver a different, nuanced reason to appreciate that old religious warhorse, altruism. Both of these draw on recent advances in genetics that I have written about elsewhere; in fact, “Taming” specifically attempts to summarize recent advances in “genetic history” (determining the likely course of events that led to domestication of animals such as the chicken and flora such as the apple tree). Moreover, both specifically apply their insights to humans, and to humans’ distinctiveness from our close relatives the apes, in areas such as altruism.
What I think that both have in common is that they find that evolutionary strategies that run counter to the apparent evolutionary imperatives of individual survival and reproduction are actually relatively successful strategies for group (and hence species) survival and reproduction. Thus, in Wilson’s assessment, humans are one of the seventeen or so known species (e.g., bees and mole rats) in which a certain percentage of members of the group set aside (temporarily or permanently) their own reproduction and/or survival needs and act to support the survival, reproduction, and success of their group. In Roberts’ provocative telling, humans have been domesticating themselves, compared to apes, by dulling the intra- and inter-group aggression that would ordinarily prevent us from coexisting in cities.
Now, both of these books may represent a “bridge too far”: their conclusions in this regard probably go beyond what we will ultimately see as the true role of altruism in an effective society. Wilson in particular seems to shoehorn humans awkwardly into the “eusocial” category (defined by a reviewer as including overlap of generations, cooperative brood-care, and non-reproductive “helpers”) when most or all of his seventeen other species offer more clear-cut examples. Likewise, Roberts seems to go beyond the evidence in finding parallels between the “immaturation” of the dog and the chicken that apparently bred for a longer nurturing phase so they wouldn’t avoid humans and could take advantage of our agricultural and hunting largess, and our own long period of growing up. Nevertheless, I do think that they present new insights into the advantages of altruism in our daily lives.
Wilson and Milton
When I look at Wilson’s thoughts in “Genesis”, I am reminded of the last line of Milton’s “On His Blindness”: “They also serve who stand and wait.” The point is that most animals are usually part of a group, if only a family group, and that group typically has a leader. But in the species described by Wilson, the “eusocial” members of the group are not passively accepting the commands of their leader (“Thousands at His bidding speed”, says Milton) but actively choosing a semi-permanent role as acting for the good of the rest of the group without waiting for direction, rather than emphasizing their own reproduction, and, in some cases, their own survival. In other words, “eusociality” is not enforced servitude, but rather a differentiated role within the group contrary to the interest of the “selfish gene” within the individual.
This approach to evolutionary success is not common – after all, we’ve found only seventeen species examples of this. Nevertheless, according to Wilson, this is apparently a relatively successful strategy: the reduced individual breeding is more than countered by the increased chance of survival and therefore reproduction of the group. Moreover, this “division of labor” is sometimes, as in the case of humans, relatively flexible, and therefore reduces the risk of population disaster – that is, in times of population strain the homosexual or celibate can take part in reproduction.
And therefore, far from being a threat to humanity, eusociality argues that the LGBTQ individual or voluntary celibate is a blessing – in moderation, of course. Not to mention the “nurturers”, “caretakers”, “helpers”, and “defenders” we all see around us. In evolutionary terms, that their own reproduction (and sometimes, as well, their own survival) is not the central meaning of their lives is a good thing, when balanced with the drive towards individual survival and reproduction of the rest of us. The eusocial species thrives in the long run, all else being equal, compared to the rest, because when disaster strikes, the eusocial individual’s focus is on somebody in the group surviving, rather than on the safety of oneself or one’s family.
Infantilizing Aggression
One of the key points made by Roberts about the process of “taming” is that in the case of animals (e.g., wolf/dog, chicken/bird, and boar/pig) it was often a matter of self-breeding to minimize both aggression/”fight” and avoidance/”flight” in order to cooperate with humans in activities such as hunting and herding. In other words, wolves in a pack that were less likely to attack or avoid humans were more likely to share in the benefits of human kills, and therefore had a survival advantage over their wilder counterparts. These wolves may have tended to have longer stretches of life in which they were “growing up”, i.e., with less aggression and less stress on survival by avoidance. The end result of this evolutionary process – dogs – therefore show signs of what we might call “permanent immaturity” compared to their wolf relatives, including longer maturation.
Roberts then goes on to note that compared to our close relatives the apes, we likewise have a longer period of immaturity, a “final state” of the evolutionary process involving less aggressiveness and avoidance. This “infantilization of aggression” allows adults to behave towards each other as dogs to humans: with lower-aggression relationships, lower avoidance of each other (compare that to cats!), and a greater ability to cooperate and perform services for each other as part of that cooperation. Of course, as with dogs, the aggression towards prey species remains, and spills over into inter-species interactions – just not as strongly.
Cities – now the habitat of at least half of the human race – represent the extreme case of that tamping down of aggression and avoidance. On the streets of New York City at rush hour, we are assaulted with the close proximity of thousands of our fellow creatures every day – and yet almost all of the millions in NYC manage to avoid either undue aggression or “getting away from it all” over the course of a long lifetime.
And in situations like this, I argue, altruism is a useful strategy for tamping down residual aggression and avoidance. Yes, the altruist who “reaches out” across groups in a very crowded situation can be punished for seeming aggressive or overly vulnerable; but since the motivation is to provide disinterested services to the other group, it’s the type of interaction least likely to trigger “fight or flight” from the opposing group. Whatever we may say of politicians as a group, on the regional and national level the more altruistic politician does, I think, perform a vital service by this kind of cross-group altruism.
Of Myss And Altruistic Men
But how does this “genetic history” apply today? I have no good data points, but I have an odd one: Caroline Myss’ 2001 book, “Sacred Contracts.” This is a fascinating “New Age” attempt to combine Jungian psychology with eclectic religion and apply it to self-help. The book is shot through with altruistic archetypes drawn from myth and story, like the Knight and the Nun, applied to the modern world – as well as, of course, self-interested archetypes like the Child and the Queen/King.
What I find notable in this book from the point of view of the practical usefulness of altruism are the extensive case studies of individuals seeking to achieve meaning in fully modern lives, complete with concerns about surviving and thriving in work and businesses. To a surprising extent, not only women but also men tackle entrepreneurship and choice of career with a primary motive of “doing good for others,” as shown by their choice of altruistic rather than self-interested archetypes to describe themselves. This not only evidences the first level of empathy, as I discussed in my recent series on Tolkien in Daily Kos, but also that altruistic motives are more common than I thought even in the cutthroat competitive worlds of business and lawyering.
This requires a little unpacking, I think. Back in 1980 when I was at business school, a survey asked us what our primary goal in business was: power, money, or altruism (e.g., non-profit businesses)? Interestingly, those seeking power tended to wind up with a bit more money than those seeking money directly, according to the surveyers. But perhaps 20%, even in a business school, said they were in it for altruistic purposes. And what Myss shows is that even those in the power and money categories aren’t necessarily seeking to run businesses just to gain power or money, whether for survival or self-gratification; they also may seek to use that power and money in the long run for altruistic as well as selfish purposes.
Now, before you think I have gone all soft and mushy, I freely concede that this is a flawed sample. Yes, the people in Myss’ book are for the most part predisposed to think of their goals in altruistic terms. Yes, the book is 20 years out of date, and the world by some measures may seem more self-absorbed than ever.
Nevertheless, I think that the message it conveys is more true than not. The first two books argue the usefulness of altruism to our species, in the long run. Myss’ case studies suggest, I think, that in the very short run and in practical terms, altruism, properly balanced, is a positive benefit to us all in our daily lives.
