The Selfish Gene

Books that made us think

In 1976 the British biologist Richard Dawkins published The Selfish Gene, which developed a gene-centered view of evolution. Evolutionists beginning with Charles Darwin had focused on organisms striving to reproduce themselves. Dawkins emphasized genes, with organisms simply being their vehicles for reproduction. The shift in perspective prompted rethinking by scientists all over the world. Four decades after publication, a poll conducted by the Royal Society identified The Selfish Gene as the most influential science book in history, outranking even Darwin's Origin of Species.

Genes hadn't been discovered in Darwin's day, leaving him unable to explain the mechanism of evolution. Knowledge of genes supplied Dawkins and others of his persuasion with the missing link, which they employed to powerful effect.

Darwin, for example, had difficulty explaining the emergence of altruism. Why do parents make sacrifices for their children? For their grandchildren? Darwin assumed that in doing so they increased the survival chances of those offspring. But how did that benefit the one making the sacrifice? And what did it mean for evolution?

Dawkins contended that such behavior was driven by genes. The typical gene in a parent has a 50% chance of appearing in any son or daughter. A gene that produces altruism increases the survival chances of that son or daughter, which is to say it increases the gene’s own chances of surviving into the next generation.

It goes without saying that genes are not conscious and their actions are not purposeful. But if by chance a gene emerges that promotes altruism in a parent, that gene has an advantage over other genes and is likely to spread in the population.

A gene acts in its own self-interest rather than in the interest of the organism that carries the gene. Indeed, a mother who sacrifices her life to save her child is fatally harmed by the behavior produced by the altruism gene. If the well-being of the mother were the measure of evolutionary fitness, altruism would quickly disappear. But it doesn't. The gene benefits even if the mother does not. It is in this sense that Dawkins uses the adjective “selfish” to describe genes.

A parent is more likely to sacrifice on behalf of a child than a grandparent is on behalf of a grandchild. Why is this so?

Dawkins does the math. A grandchild typically has a 25% chance of inheriting a gene from a grandparent. A given man or woman would have to save twice as many grandchildren as children to have the same transmission effect on the altruism gene. Hence the selection effect is weaker when dealing with grandchildren.

What does all this say about history? Can the gene-centered view of evolution help explain important aspects of history?

Yes, it can. A fundamental problem for the historian is explaining why war is so prevalent among humans. War is expensive and destructive, yet we engage in it endlessly. Historians have tried to identify individuals and groups that benefit from war. For these people, war makes evolutionary sense. But for the larger number of losers, it doesn't. Why does it not disappear?

Imagine a gene that codes for bellicosity. Individuals that inherit the gene tend to be violent and domineering. When wars occur, these individuals are likely to be victorious. Especially in the old days, victorious warriors — almost exclusively males — had access to more females, via rape or bride capture. Under these circumstances, the bellicosity gene could spread fast enough to overcome the war costs to humanity as a whole. To put things another way, humanity at large might suffer from war, but the bellicosity gene benefited and so was transmitted from generation to generation.

A gene-centered approach helps explain patriotism and humans’ stubborn inability to put the interest of the species as a whole ahead of the interests of nations and tribes. Patriotism is essentially altruism extrapolated to a larger group than the immediate family. It almost certainly arose out of kin-feeling which people had for their bands and their tribes, with whom they shared genes. It goes far toward explaining nationalism, the demand for each nation — which is to say each people — to have a patch of ground it controls. By this means, genes protect themselves and not other genes.

Global cooperation avails particular genes little or nothing. It spreads the genes’ resources too thin. And it gives aid to free-riding genes that don't contribute anything.

We humans are not prisoners of our genes, especially the ones that code for behavior. We may yet cooperate globally. It's just that we can't expect much help from our genes in doing so.

Dawkins’s approach drew attention for reasons beyond its power to explain observed phenomena. Dawkins is a proud atheist and his work shreds any special place for humans in the universe. Theists had difficulty enough with Darwin, who positioned humans just above the apes. Dawkins demotes humans much further, to automatons doing the work of their unthinking, unfeeling genes. A mother's love? Nothing more than cold calculation of probabilities. Patriotism? Genes mobilizing for self-defense.

There are probably limits on how far the Dawkins approach can spread. We humans like thinking we're special.

There must be something in our genes that makes us feel that way.