The Brain and Life Span

I posted a blog on 3/31/14 titled “Monogamous Dummies,” wherein I described a then-current result of studies of fruit flies, which had made the surprising discovery that polygamous male fruit flies demonstrated themselves to be more intelligent than monogamous males. Another surprising finding of this study was that monogamous males lived longer than their polygamous cohorts.

The researchers had no explanations for these results, other than to note that, within a given species, those individuals possessing a larger brain (and thus who are usually more intelligent) did not live as long as their smaller-brain comrades. A possible reason offered is that the brain of any critter demands a significant proportion of that critter's energy. Thus, big-brained creatures may sort of run out of energy sooner and expire before their dumber fellows.

It is a fact that the species which immediately preceded us Homo sapiens, the Cro-Magnon, had a bigger brain than we do (about 10% larger). Thus, as we humans have evolved, our brains have shrunk a little. Does this say that we are dumber than Cro-Magnon? That's very difficult to say, but the life of modern humans is certainly easier than that of our deep ancestors. While they had to work hard to forage for food, we walk into the supermarket and leisurely fill our cart with oodles of goodies. While they had to keep a sharp lookout to avoid being eaten by large predators, we have either done away with most of those predators or locked them up in zoos.

And what about the life span of Cro-Magnon, compared to modern humans? That's also not an easy question to answer, but it is surely affected by technology and availability of high-quality food. Our modern healthcare tools can be very effective at extending the life of people. Cro-Magnon did not have access to antibiotics, dentists, or surgical techniques. So maybe we H. sapiens live longer, not because we're dumber, but because of our modern medicine?

These findings also suggest a reason why evolution has gradually decreased the size of our brain. If we don't need the brain power we once had (because we have smart machines to care for us), why not let the brain shrink a bit—especially if it lengthens our life span? Is this not a wise trade-off that evolution has made?

That possibility is a little disconcerting, however. What might happen when we develop super-smart artificial intelligence machines? Will our brains shrink to the point that our dogs will someday be teaching us simple tricks and taking us to the vet to be neutered?

Neanderthal Knack

We humans have suffered numerous blows to our ego in recent decades, as one of our so-called exceptional qualities after another has been recognized in other animals. First it was the realization years ago that many animals also forge tools—maybe not as complex as our robots and computers—but they are an intentional use of an object (often even constructed by the critter itself) to accomplish a deed that their paws or claws alone could not. 
 
Next it was the ability to self-recognize, such as when we look in a mirror and realize it's our own self, rather than some other being. There are several other examples of barriers being dismantled; barriers that we had come to believe distinguish us from “lower” animals. The message: we are not that far removed from the animal kingdom. 
 
Yet one more blow to the belief in human exclusivity recently landed, when Neanderthal art was discovered in caves in Spain. So why is the discovery of Neanderthal art so unexpected, or even seen as threatening to our superiority, by some people? When the fossil bones of these distant cousins were discovered in the 19^th century in Germany, anthropologists were inclined to deem them as some sort of inferior brute. Otherwise, why would they have gone extinct? 
 
It was known that our direct ancestors, the Cro-Magnon, and Neanderthals co-existed for several thousand years, before the latter died out. We won; they lost. Furthermore, their fossil skeletons showed them to be heavy-browed, stout folks. Weren't they closer to apes than humans? So how can we accept these brutes as being artists?

Let's first consider some background and how we know it was Neanderthals who had the knack to create their own style of cave art. Furthermore, is it art? These recent Spanish cave discoveries have been dated to a time some 25,000 years before our human ancestors even left Africa—during an epoch in which Neanderthals were the sole species of hominid in Europe... the sole European artists, as it now turns out. The paintings are the first example of true Neanderthal art we have found.

Exquisite examples of Cro-Magnon cave art had previously been discovered over many years, in Spain and France. They exhibit a quality that obviously emanates from the human mind—a mind that is highly conscious and reflects upon itself. When we look upon these Cro-Magnon drawings, we find that they evoke deep feelings within us. They are fellow humans.

Gazing upon the recent Spanish cave drawings by Neanderthals, one gets a similar feeling from their art. It may not be as accomplished as Cro-Magnon art, but the paintings surely evoke an intelligent, highly-conscious mind; one that obviously reflected upon itself. These feelings inevitably draw us closer to those Neanderthals who wangled their way into dark cave recesses some 30 to 40,000 years ago and created these works of art. They move us. They truly are art.

Until this recent Neanderthal discovery, we thought that only we Homo sapiens (descended from the Cro-Magnon) were capable of expressing such meaning. Neanderthals were thought to be too primitive. They were artless, because we believed that Neanderthals could not have acquired the necessary cultural self-consciousness to create art. 
 
It will take some time for us to comprehend the significance of these recent cave art discoveries. It's obvious that they demonstrate Neanderthals were capable of creating art. But what did their drawings mean to them? For that matter, we're still trying to comprehend the meaning of Cro-Magnon cave art. These Neanderthal renderings are undeniably art, but why did they do it? Why penetrate deep into caves (without modern battery-powered lights) and create their works in darkness? Had they any idea that their art would survive for so long, to inspire and puzzle future humans?

As we ponder these mysteries—and will probably discover more—the answers may come to us. In the meantime, we can benefit from an appreciation of yet one more connection to our ancient Neanderthal cousins, as well as many non-human species. It tells us there's a gradual blend of capabilities between species—not a stark barrier. Is there not an unbroken path from “primitive” cave art to the Mona Lisa?

Doggone Good Cooperation

Who'd a thunk that our ancient alliance with wolves (who we quickly bred into tame puppy dogs) would be related to how our ancient European ancestors (Cro-Magnon man) out-competed the Neanderthals? It's been known for a long time that we humans domesticated wolves tens of thousands of years ago, and also that we outlived our Neanderthals cousins, who disappeared some 40 thousand years ago. But the link between these two events was only recently identified by a researcher at Penn State University. How was this connection realized?

Neanderthals had inhabited Europe some 200,000 years before Cro-Magnon man even entered the scene. Neanderthals were accomplished hunters of large herbivores such as mammoths and elk, but they also had fierce competition from European lions, leopards, hyenas, as well as wolves. It was very challenging and dangerous to bring down a mammoth or bison by spears. Once you managed to kill one, lions and hyenas would harass you and try to steal your prized meat. So Neanderthals may have lasted a long time, but they were not all that dominant—their population stayed modest.

Then about 45 thousand years ago, modern humans entered Europe. Now the Neanderthals had yet one more competitor for the hunt. Humans, however, had an ace up their hairy sleeve: they domesticated the wolf. It was a great example of a complementary relationship—two potential competitors (humans and wolves, both of whom loved to dine on mammoth meat) joined forces to make their partnership far more effective than either one could do alone.

Those early wolf-dogs had the job of tracking and harassing big game until their prey tired, but then they didn't have to close in for the kill—which could become very dangerous when they faced a cornered and aroused adversary. Instead, humans appeared on the scene and dispatched the prey with spears from a safe distance. Having cooperated for the kill, dogs and humans then shared the treasure. Together, they could also successfully fend off other carnivores who might show up. Thus was born the human and hunting-dog team... which proved to be a deadly combination.

In the meantime, the Neanderthals—having been around far longer, but who left no evidence that they ever partnered with wolves—were at a serious disadvantage. Before long, they disappeared—followed a few millennia later by European mammoths, bison, and giant elk. The human-dog team was lethally efficient.

This is just one more example of how species that managed to evolve cooperation have fared better than those who couldn't. Yes, Darwin's insight into the power of survival of the fittest shoes how evolution competitively plays out, but it's not all about the fiercest competitor always becoming triumphant. Strategic alliance have also favored the prospering of species.