Early Spring Snowstorm

May this be the last one!

Capacity for Cooperation—Part 2

Why will a soldier sacrifice himself for his buddies? Why have countless martyrs given up their lives for the cause? Similar situations exist in the animal world. The selfish-gene theory cannot account for this phenomenon, so the proponents of this theory tend either to ignore this situation or disagree that it has any relevance.

An alternative to the selfish-gene theory of evolution has recently been gaining adherents. This view sees cooperation as being at the foundation of evolution, not the selfish gene. This camp perceives the survival of the species to be more dependent on the group surviving, than the individual. After all, what good does it do for an individual, if all other members of its group dies off? He can’t send his genes into the future in that case. When the group is fit and healthy, however, everyone is better off. What’s more to the point, the group thrives when its members cooperate.

This is the crux of the current battle in biology—and it's a raging battle, too. Emotions are high and strong; tempers have flared. Those who favor the selfish gene theory have dominated the scene for a couple of decades now. So they have a lot at stake—many of them have based their careers on this assumption. The upstarts who favor cooperation are taking a lot of flak. Many people look upon scientists as cool headed, dispassionate dudes, who let the facts decide. But new and opposing facts are always—and often inconveniently—arising, and heads have gotten rather hot, in the current debate.

I'm biased towards the cooperation side of the argument. I've written before in this blog about how some biologists believe cooperation has been a positive factor in evolution. (See “Higher Cooperation,” 1/13/10 and “Be No Competition,” 10/2/10.) This topic is a very complex one. I don't think it can be boiled down to a simplistic explanation such as the selfish gene theory, that sees us all driven as automatons to respond in a competitive manner, as if we are helpless.

It was an incredible accomplishment for Darwin to parse out the complex process of evolution. Scientists are still trying to figure out the details, and they'll be arguing for some time yet.

Since we humans are a species that tends to be very competitive, we aren’t inclined to look upon cooperation as important (especially in a capitalistic environment). I believe, however, that cooperation is an instinct that we and other creatures settled upon long ago as an effective way to further the species. Yes, I'd like to see my genes flow into the future, and I certainly feel that inner drive to do so, but I also know that my success as an individual depends very much on the health of my local community. I benefit when the group is strong and it provides me safety, food, and a good place to live. If the group does well, I do well. It makes sense, therefore, that I should do what I can to help my group do well. I will place a high priority in doing so...maybe even to the extent of sacrificing myself for it.

The Promise of Spring

A very pregnant quince bud. (Click to enlarge.)

Capacity for Cooperation—Part 1

A battle has been raging in biology for a few decades, about the role of cooperation in evolution. Is evolution primarily driven by competition or cooperation? Darwin posited his theory of evolution on the basis that competition for life dominates in the natural world. He saw that far more offspring of any given species are born than can survive in any given situation and location, so there's an intense struggle for survival—which later came to be dubbed “survival of the fittest.” (That’s not Darwin’s term, but was coined by enthusiasts who followed him.) Those critters most fit will survive and those less so will perish...it's that simple and that brutal. 

Any tiny advantage—any favorable minuscule genetic mutation that pops up—may offer a critter a wee bit better chance of survival that its competitors. If the critter does have a better chance of staying alive, it has a better chance of reproducing and sending that advantage into the future. In contrast, a tiny disadvantage in a genetic mutation may see the critter die early and fail to send its genes into the future. It's the end of the line for that less favorable mutation.

So far, what I have described is no cause for the disagreement that prevails between the opposing biological camps. They both agree…thus far. The debate enters when we come to consider what's called “inclusiveness fitness”—when a critter sacrifices itself for others. Martyrdom prevents one's genes from continuing on, and since the propagation of one's genes into the future seems to be a driving factor, how can one explain the systematic willingness of some members of a species to sacrifice themselves for others, when that sacrifice terminates one's genes? If all critters are driven solely by the urge to send their genes into the future, how does one account for those who voluntarily give up that drive?

Richard Dawkins is a prominent leader of the camp that considers our genes to be firmly in control—that we are “driven” by our “selfish genes.” He writes that our behavior is literally determined by our self-seeking genes, simply to transport them into the future. Dawkins’s camp insists that inclusive fitness is the only way to explain why some members of a species will sacrifice themselves. All members of a bee colony, for example, share common genes (they are all sisters). Thus, if a sister sacrifices itself, it's doing so to protect the family—the family's genes will survive, even if the individual bee dies. Similarly, a human being may sacrifice himself for a close family member. By doing so, his genes will get terminated, but the family genes may go on.

That's all fine. There’s still no real argument among biologists. The debate comes in because there are a few situations where individuals will sacrifice themselves for others who are not family members. What's going on here? How do you explain why someone would willingly give up her chance to send her own genes into the future, just to help foreign genes to survive? Does this not seem to violate the principle that we are controlled by our selfish genes? This is the core of the disagreement between the biology camps.

More on our capacity to cooperate next time…

Sincere Science

Although I find myself curious about and deriving benefit from many areas of human endeavor, science has always appealed to me more than fields such as philosophy, law, medicine, or the arts. We each have our inherent skills and talents that steer us to focus on one field more than another, but we also choose on the basis of the attributes that appeal to us. For example, one may have an analytic bent that leads them to become a lawyer, but one may also just like the way that law establishes an ordered society.

Besides having a mind that is comfortable in the scientific realm, I like science for its sincerity. That is not to suggest that scientists are any more sincere or honest than philosophers or artists, but that they practice a discipline that tends to enforce honesty and sincerity. In other fields of knowledge, one can more easily get away with shading the truth. The practice of law comes readily to mind. Lawyers and politicians (most of them being lawyers) have a rightfully earned reputation for questionable morals and often unscrupulous behavior.

This is not to say that scientists are always ethical or trustworthy. History is replete with occasional examples of scientists who cheated. The difference—and it’s pretty much all the difference in the world—is that their subterfuges are more likely to be exposed. Statements made or published by scientists are more easily verified than in other fields.

A theory or publication in science must be presented in a way that the argument is both replicable and falsifiable—otherwise it’s regarded as unworthy. Other scientists must be able to replicate the experiment and get the same result. If not, the theory is rejected. It must also be falsifiable—meaning that it is stated in a way that it can be shown to be false, if it indeed is. Otherwise it’s useless as a theory. If I pose, for example, the theory that life exists on Mars under a rock, it’s virtually impossible to demonstrate that I’m wrong; for every rock you turn over, I’ll simply maintain that you’ve not yet found the right rock.

Some scientists like to enjoy the limelight and love to have the media sensationalize their work. (Speaking of the media, there’s another area where dishonesty often gets infused in disreputable reports.) But the field that scientists have chosen imposes a certain degree of humility on them—whether they want it or not. Whenever they publish a scientific finding, it will soon be verified or shown to be rubbish by another researcher. It’s a self-correcting process. (And that points out another example of dishonesty in the media: they will rush to publish a sensational statement by a scientist, but not bother to report later when that statement is shown to be wrong.)

The scientific process—when followed appropriately—reveals the truth, step-by-step. Deceivers are exposed, sooner or later, simply by the nature of the discipline. That potential disclosure helps keep most scientists honest and sincere. (I said most.)

A Visit From Charlie—Part 2

Charlie paid us yet another unannounced visit a couple of days ago. He drove up in his big, extended-cab diesel truck, telling us that he was passing by and just had to stop in and see how we were doing. He had some new ideas about his dream house that he would soon be building and wanted to share them with us. No matter that we were about to engage in our afternoon taiji exercises, or were planning a hot tub afterwards, or even that President Obama was coming by for a consultation that evening. Charlie was here and wanted to share his dream!

OK, I can forego the taiji exercise and even Barak’s appointment, but the hot tub will happen tonight, Charlie. So, sit down and have a cup of coffee. But you need to understand that soon we will have a crucial task to attend to: soaking our bodies in that hot water.

Nursing his cuppa caffeine, he begins to wax on about his new ideas. As he rattles on, he looks around and soaks in another of our construction details to ask us about; but he hardly listens to my response, as he once again interrupts to tell us what he wants to create.

In time, he finally begins to wind down and says he must go. He repeats this about-to-leave ritual several times, as additional thoughts pop into his mind and he’s once again launched himself into dreamland. Finally, it’s really time to go. Whew! I need to start the fire in the hot tub, if we’re gonna bathe before the evening expires. With many thanks for the coffee and the chance to chat, Charlie climbs up into his big diesel, fires up the noisy engine and drives off into the deepening night.

I hustle outside to get the hot-tub woodstove fire going and am looking forward to our relaxing submersion into its healing waters, when I hear Charlie’s clattering diesel coming back down the drive! Yikes, what does he want now?! Has he thought of yet another cool detail to share with us? Do we have to forsake the evening’s bath for another chapter of Charlie’s vision?

He hurries from his truck, profusely apologizing that he has lost his cell phone. Have we seen it? Did he leave it here? It’s a new iPhone, with all his business information implanted in it and his demeanor tells me that he’s nearly in a state of panic over its possible loss. He’s gone from joy to frantic, in just a few minutes.

We head back in the house, report the emergency to my wife, and cast around every place he’s been inside, to no avail. She remembers that he did have it just before departing, so we can establish that it must be hiding somewhere in the immediate vicinity. We have no luck finding it inside the house, so Charlie and I head out to the driveway area, scouring the ground with flashlights, praying to find the phone—Charlie, hoping to recover his precious toy and me hoping we quickly locate it so he gets the hell out of here and allows the hot tub preparations to continue.

           

We see no sign of it on the ground. Whew! I was dreadfully anticipating that we might find it crushed into a black plastic pancake by his truck, and we’d end up consoling a sobbing Charlie—right through our hot tub night. I wonder if it might have slipped out of his pocket, onto the floor behind his seat, so he dives into the cab of his truck, tossing various items of clothing and tools about, but comes up without his precious iPhone.

What next? My wife comes onto the scene and suggests that she call his phone, to see if that may help locate it, when it rings. Charlie gives her his number and she dials and we intently listen. Charlie shouts that he thinks he heard it, but the noise of his diesel engine has drowned it out. He cuts the engine and she dials again. Shouting out again, Charlie dives back into his truck and rummages around furiously in the piles of rubble—finally triumphantly emerging with his iPhone in hand!

He exhibits a mixture of relief and shame at how the incident has turned out. He profusely apologizes, saying that we must think he is really stupid and wish that he never comes around again. He knows he’s spoiled our bath. I try to assure him that we are mostly happy that he has found his phone, wish him well, and assure him we’ll still get the bath in—hoping that he quickly drives out again and stays away this time.

Later, when the hot tub has reached its full temperature and I’m soaking deep in its healing waters, I can begin to smile and chuckle at the evening’s episode. May your dreams be realized, Charlie! Come on back, sometime; but for now, leave me alone to soak, please.

A Visit From Charlie—Part 1

Both our homestead and lifestyle are unconventional and differ markedly from the average American domicile standard. Our house is underground and we live in a low-cost manner; in that we pump water by hand, use an outdoor composting privy, grow much of our food, and exist on a fraction of electricity, compared to “normal” consumption. To our urban friends, we are a curiosity—either just too strange to comprehend or maybe fun to visit from time to time, but just to look at what we are doing and to see if we are still managing to keep it up.

To our rural neighbors, however, we are less a curiosity than a sensible-living couple. Yet we are the newbies: the immigrant couple (even though we’ve lived here for 28 years) who live in a prudent way (as they do); but we still seem a little weird to them. They can understand our mode of living better than our urban friends can, because it is closer to their modest-to-low-income existence. Many of them never graduated high school and they all struggle to get by, although they manage to get along quite well. Yet our style of living still is a bit of a stretch for them; because, if they had more money, they would live more like our urban friends. Since they’ve had to learn how to get along quite fine on limited resources, however, they can better understand what we have chosen as a way to live.

Now and then we are visited by a neighbor who very much appreciates the life we’ve carved out, and even values what we have done to create this low-cost way we live. Charlie is an example of one of these folks. He periodically comes by, specifically to savor our house and lifestyle. He is a simple, minimally-educated, hard-working guy. He is a contractor who’s in business for himself. He’s an honest guy who appreciates the value of constructing things with one’s hands and enjoys his own simple way of life, which avoids becoming hooked into mortgages, big credit card balances, and other mainstream activities.

Charlie somehow stumbled upon us and how we live, several years ago. He has taken to dropping by unannounced every now and then, to take another look at our digs and tell us about his dream of carving out a similar way of living, if he can just get a little money set aside first. He has many questions about how we did things—being a practical, hands-on guy who can appreciate the simplicity of it. He rattles on about his dream house and where he’d like to build it: someplace way out in the boonies, so government officials would not even know he existed. He’d install solar power, use novel building techniques, live self-sufficiently, and be sure that neighbors were far enough away that they couldn’t be seen or heard.

To us, Charlie’s dream seems destined to remain just a wee bit out of his reach. For nearly a decade now he has dropped by, always describing to us his latest plan, which appears no closer now than when we first met him. But he can dream, can’t he?

Over the years he has discovered many alternative building schemes, which he eagerly describes to us. Upon each visit, the scheme gets updated by a new and more exciting method that he’s recently discovered. It appears to me that his grasp of these alternative building techniques is often not very deep; he is always enthused about the possibilities, but seems rather thin on the practicalities of them.

Some of them I have read about and realize that his understanding needs a lot more development before he could ever implement it. Some of the building concepts he describes I have never heard about; but as he explains them, my prior experience and technical background finds me doubting that it is a reasonable way to build in this area. Maybe that idea works okay in a tropical environment, Charlie, but I’m not so sure it makes sense in this temperate zone we live in. Or: that’s a neat-sounding concept, Charlie, but have you thought about how it’s going to be to actually live in that kind of house?

These are thoughts that remain in my mind…I never express them out loud to him. His bubbling visit is not the time or place to throw a little cold water on his hot ideas. He’s not telling me about his plans, in order to get a critique of them. He doesn’t need a lesson on why his latest idea might be a problem from a heat transfer perspective or a structural engineering standpoint. He simply needs to excitedly share his dream. He needs to sit in a chair, cradle his cup of coffee, look around him at things we have done, and jabber about his own unique ideas of his castle in the air. Besides, he is too energized about his visions to be able to listen to what practicalities I might have to offer at the moment. He rattles on, hardly aware of any comments on his plans that I might suggest.

More on Charlie’s visit next time…