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Tycho Brahe, renowned 16th century astronomer, had a problem. He made some of the earliest accurate measurements of planetary movement, and was deeply committed to the primacy of science and empirical data. So far, so good. But Brahe was also committed to the primacy of the Earth, partly out of religious conviction and partly because — well, just because. So what was he to do when his measurements kept showing the same unwelcome results: the five known planets of his day — Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn — all revolved around the sun!
So Brahe came up with a brilliant solution: He devised an astronomic system whereby those five planets indeed circled the sun, but the whole shebang (sun + planets) obediently revolved around the Earth. Ta Daa! Problem solved (sort of).
Brahe's blunder speaks to a tendency that persists in the minds of many: Give ground in response to undeniable facts, but if those facts conflict with your more cherished beliefs, hold fast to the latter. For a 21st century example, consider that essentially every scientifically literate (non-Bible-beating) person accepts the basic truths of evolution by natural selection, when applied to, say, the evolution of antibiotic resistance, the reality of dinosaurs, even the animal ancestry of our own species. But even among these enlightened folks, relatively few have been willing to explore the often-discomfiting realizations that come from following the insights offered by evolution. In other words, Brahe-ism still lives.
For example:
Suddenly, the neurobiology of consciousness is "in." But even as this new field has begun to rival genomics and stem cell research, hardly anyone has looked at consciousness as the evolutionary conundrum that it is. Thus, aside from the "how" of neurobiology, what about the "why"? What's the adaptive significance of consciousness? Think of the metabolic costs of a conscious brain, as well as its vulnerability, and even the behavioral downsides of excessive "self-consciousness."
Here's a possibility: Insofar as consciousness means not just awareness, but awareness of awareness, then maybe its evolutionary explanation derives from what we might call the "Robert Burns phenomenon," namely the payoff of being able to "see ourselves as others see us." And why might that be adaptive? Perhaps because it enables us to engage in a kind of Machiavellian sociality, adjusting our behavior so as to appear better, nicer, more worthwhile than we really are! In short, what if the evolutionary basis of one of our most cherished traits is, in fact, dishonesty and deception?
Then there is the matter of "seeing" and "believing." The cliché goes "seeing is believing," but in fact, much of science in general and biology in particular works the other way around: Believing is seeing. To a remarkable degree, we see things only after we can explain them, as a result of which we expect to find these things; then, sure enough, we do! For example, contrary to what evolutionary biologists often claim — that altruism was long considered a major puzzle, until W. D. Hamilton pretty much solved it with inclusive fitness theory — the reality is that it is only after Hamilton's insights became common currency that we began observing altruism in nature — and then, of course, explaining it!
Not only is there no tiny homunculus residing inside the human brain, pulling the levers of consciousness and free will, but there are lots of pathogens inducing us to behave in ways that help them. Many of the most important insights of evolutionary psychologists point unavoidably to the conclusion that it's not "us" but our genes that often call the shots, even (maybe especially) when it comes to some of our more admirable actions, such as altruism.
Even as biology has begun to unravel the wellsprings of self-sacrificial, other-beneficial behavior, how many of us are willing to consider that just as beneficence toward kin (nepotism) is "natural," so, too, might be hatred and intolerance toward non-kin? Thus, some of our worst traits, such as racism, may be an unfortunate legacy of evolution.
Tycho Brahe, were he alive today, would probably find a way out of confronting these and other dilemmas. But if so, he'd miss out on a heckuvalot of fun.
David P. Barash
mail@the-scientist.com
David P. Barash is the author of Natural Selections: Selfish altruists, honest liars, and other realities of evolution, published this month by Bellevue Literary Press. He is a professor of psychology at the University of Washington in Seattle.
Image: courtesy of Bellevue Literary Press. Jacket design: Nicky Lindeman.
Links within this article:
C. Koch, "The inchoate science of consciousness," The Scientist, September 12, 2005.
http://www.the-scientist.com/article/display/15704/
C. Holding, "Kin selection in bacteria," The Scientist, August 26, 2004.
http://www.the-scientist.com/article/display/22365/
S. Blackman, "Spite: Evolution finally gets nasty," The Scientist, December 20, 2004.
http://www.the-scientist.com/article/display/15154/
David Barash
http://faculty.washington.edu/dpbarash/
Natural Selections: Selfish altruists, honest liars, and other realities of evolution
http://tinyurl.com/2c748w