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.

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…

Be No Competition

It is accepted and even admired behavior in western capitalistic cultures to be competitive. Success and a healthy society, we are told, lean heavily on a struggle between contending people and organizations. Competition spawns innovation, hard work, and efficiency—the hallmarks of achievement. It’s the “American way.”

There certainly is truth to the belief in the power of honest competition to stimulate the best effort in people. It’s what has brought millions of immigrants to America—as they fled the stifling environment in their homelands, to have a chance to succeed here through hard work. (We’re all immigrants.) Those who have had the strength and fortitude to get here have helped this country be as successful as it is.

There is, of course, a shadow side to the doctrine of competition. Too often the playing field is not level for all participants and no matter how hard some may work, they stand little chance of succeeding. Those who’ve won a previous round of competition often have a way of stacking the deck so they can take refuge behind their gated communities and eliminate further competition.

Another problematic side to competitive behavior is that it fosters the belief that life is a zero-sum game. This thinking says that there are only so many resources to be had, and if I don’t grab first and win, I’ll lose. One side wins, one side loses—that’s the essence of the zero-sum game. If we buy into this thinking, it fosters greedy behavior. We never think that there is enough for everybody, so we constantly contend for more and more—denying someone their needs.

If we can come to see that life can be a positive-sum game, however, we come to see that win-win situations abound. Rather than automatically falling into competition with others, we can see the benefits of cooperation. Homo sapiens has become as successful a creature as it is, because we’ve cooperated with each other more often than we have competed. How did the pyramids get built? How did the Romans build their aqueducts? How did we become such accomplished farmers? These past successes demanded cooperation.

We can become involved in some pretty fantastic things if we put effort into cooperating with others, rather than compete. If I can interact with others in a way that we engage in a positive-sum game, we’ll find ourselves working together for the benefit of us all. It’s not easy to do. It takes practice and vision. It also means taking a risk.

Higher Cooperation

Every living thing is imbued with an elemental drive to survive and to procreate. This is fundamentally a selfish urge. All Earth’s creatures act in their own self-interest, in order to live and to succeed in the struggle to send their genes into the future. But if we go overboard in our selfishness, we’d end up the lone survivor on an isolated island, unable to reproduce at all. So our self-interest must somehow be checked in favor of the wider interest of the survival of the species. We all innately know that we must cooperate at some higher level.

Even plants are able control their selfish urges. Recent research shows that the fierce competition between plants for light and nutrients (think weeds in the garden) is not wholly unbridled. Clever experiments have shown that a plant will send out its roots and leaves as fast and as far as it can, trying to get the jump on its competitors. If others of its own species surround a plant, however, it will check its growth, so as not to be a threat to them. Its root system will be limited—giving adjacent same-species plants an opportunity to flourish and to propagate the species. Even plants cooperate at a higher level.

Plants and animals behave this way because an evolutionary process drives them to do so. They can’t “think” about cooperation or competition; evolution has simply infused them with the appropriate “wisdom.” Even cognizant animals (such as Homo sapiens) are often not aware of the consequences or meaning of our actions that promote cooperation—we just do it. (Creatures who were possessed of an unlimited selfishness died out long ago—maybe when they found themselves all alone on that island, with no potential mates.)

But we humans are able to be aware of the consequences of what we do—of the impact of our actions. It’s something that separates us from most other animals. We can look back at what we did and connect the dots. This is a way for morals to enter the picture, when we come to understand the benefits of certain positive behaviors. Morals can give us good reasons to check our self-interest, if we choose to heed them.

And we can also understand—unlike plants and animals—that what we do impacts not only nearby but distant beings as well. We can come to appreciate the exquisite balance and interconnections between all creatures. We can come to revere the many facets of this wonderful creation. Yet, too often we seem to act selfishly, even to the point of harming ourselves and other species—despite our capacity to be moral animals and cooperate at a higher level. Can we learn to act as wisely as plants and animals?