I just finished reading E.O. Wilson's The Social Conquest of Earth. Written as it was for an educated yet not academically minded audience it is hardly surprising that I didn't learn much new from the book. Nevertheless, it should serve as a handy reference for teaching in the future and I found it refreshing to see the multi-level selection approach so forcefully promoted even if, in some places, I believe Wilson overstated the case. Unfortunately, Wilson makes a number of unwarranted and poorly informed attacks against religion. In the future, I may take each of these in turn. For the moment, however, I'd like to comment on one in particular since it touches on my own research.
Wilson makes a number of impassioned pleas toward the end of the book about the critical juncture the human species finds itself at. As might be expected from a biologist, his loudest cries are for the state of the environment:
Sure one moral precept we can agree on is to stop destroying our birthplace, the only home humanity will ever have.
That's certainly a moral precept I can agree on and one that I feel rather strongly about as well. However, Wilson goes on to say:
It will be useful in taking a second look at science and religion to understand the true nature of the search for objective truth. Science is not just another enterprise like medicine or engineering or theology. It is the wellspring of all the knowledge we have of the real world that can be tested and fitted into preexisting knowledge. It is the arsenal of technologies and inferential mathematics needed to distinguish the true from the false. It formulates the principles and formulas that tie all this knowledge together. Science belongs to everybody. Its constituent parts can be challenged by anybody in the world who has sufficient information to do so. It is not just "another way of knowing" as often claimed, making it coequal with religious faith. The conflict between scientific knowledge and the teachings of organized religions is irreconcilable. The chasm will continue to widen and cause no end of trouble as long as religious leaders go on making unsupportable claims about supernatural causes of reality.
To put this into better perspective, Wilson just a few paragraphs earlier said:
Why, then, is it wise openly to question the myths and gods of organized religion? Because they are stultifying and divisive. Because each is just one version of a competing multitude of scenarios that possibly can be true. Because they encourage ignorance, distract people from recognizing problems of the real world, and often lead them in wrong directions into disastrous actions.
So now we get to the heart of my objection. As I read it, Wilson is essentially trying to lay the blame for environmental degradation at the feet of religion. Moreover, he suggests that the only antidote to the destructive nature of religion's superstition is the cold rationality of the scientific enterprise.
This is particularly obnoxious to me because I have been working for the past year and a half on a project with some of Lin Ostrom's students that looks specifically at the relationship between religion and the management of natural resources. We still have two more cases to code before we begin our analysis. Nevertheless, it is clear from the 48 cases that we've looked at so far that religion has traditionally had extremely important roles to play in the sustainable use of resources. For instance, religion often serves to define the physical boundaries of resources and marks those who are allowed to use them. Religion serves monitoring functions and imposes sanctions for those who break the rules. It also is an important source of perceived benefits that encourage users to cooperate with others. Religion provides opportunities for leadership, repositories of local knowledge, calendars to coordinate cooperative efforts and avenues for the establishment and maintenance of social capital. To say that religion in this context is "stultifying and divisive" is plain and simply wrong. It is both highly innovative and creative and it leads to greater cooperation for an enterprise that is notoriously difficult.
Now, I can hear the objections already that religion is hardly necessary to provide these services. This is a fair point. Indeed, many groups do use secular alternatives to great effect. Furthermore, many groups that we've studied employ a mixture of religious and secular mechanisms to govern their resources sustainably. Nevertheless, the fact that religion is providing these vital functions should alone be enough to give us pause about actively working to undermine them. At least it should give us pause if our primary goal is really better stewardship of the planet. Religious means of encoding culturally important information may not be rational in the sense that Wilson and others understand that term. They certainly weren't arrived at through a deliberate process of empirical research checked through peer review. For that matter they often probably didn't arise as deliberate conservation efforts in the first place. Many of them, however, have been in use for centuries and, as such, have been subjected to generations of cultural evolution which has produced finely tuned institutions, exquisitely sensitive to local environmental contexts. Surely if biologists can't place any credence on supernatural entities and superstitious articulations of the way the world works they can at least give some respect for systems refined through natural selection!
Finally, religion is hardly unique in its ability "to distract people from recognizing problems of the real world," nor is it alone in leading "them in wrong directions into disastrous actions." Time and again we have found cases in our work where the leading cause of the breakdown in sustainable resource management by user groups can be traced to either the privatization of the resource in question or, more often, to the usurpation of local user rights through nationalization. In this latter case, national governments take over control of resources, eliminating any semblance of local autonomy and denying local users any collective choice rights to determine the rules they are expected to follow. The results of this kind of policy are almost universally disastrous, leading to rapid environmental degradation.
And where did these policy notions come from? It was decidedly not from the world's religions. Rather, it came from western scientists and scholars whose thinking was summarized so concisely and compellingly in Hardin's Tragedy of the Commons. This represents policy based on rational thought and enjoying strong empirical support from modeling studies and laboratory experiments. In short, it represents exactly the sort of approach that Wilson touts as being inherently superior to the "unsupportable claims" of religious leaders. It also happens to be completely and disastrously wrong as Elinor Ostrom's work has shown, work for which she earned a Nobel Prize. I only hope that the damage caused by such superior, rational thinking can be repaired before it's too late for us all.
This is a place for the members of the Wilson lab to support and challenge one another as they develop their projects.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Energy Rate Density, Fitness and Reproduction
As you (Ian and Yasha) know I have been struggling with the
idea of differences between absolute and relative fitness. I just typed out something that just occurred to me. Let me know what you think.
Not all traits/behavior may contribute to reproductive
success. If we consider reproduction as a special case, then those traits
become relevant that contribute to reproductive success as they can get
selected and evolve.
If reproduction does not occur in a system, then
those traits will evolve (by means that do not specifically require
reproduction/heredity) that contribute to...well just living and increasing/maintaining the
bearers free energy rate density (Chaisson, 2011).
If the above has some meaning then bringing together the two
ideas of "reproduction is a special case" and "is there a
difference between absolute and relative fitness" leads you to this
conclusion, traits that contribute to increasing free energy rate density can
be broken down into two types those that rely on reproduction and thus
contribute to increasing reproductive fitness and those that do not contribute
to in any conceivable way to increasing reproductive fitness.
In the second scenario those traits that rely on
reproduction and contribute to a increase in reproductive fitness are traits
that increase relative fitness of an organism in a population over time.
The first scenario describes contribution of a trait to
absolute fitness, where a trait might not have anything to do with reproduction
or reproductive success. It just contributes to maximizing free energy rate
density..just living.
Chaisson, E. J.
(2011). Energy rate density as a complexity metric and evolutionary driver. Complexity,
16(3), 27–40. doi:10.1002/cplx.20323
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
The meaning of the adaptation to tolerate lactose.
The question
that is most often asked about lactose tolerance is that if drinking milk is an
evolutionary adaptation shouldn't we continue to reap its fitness benefits? Although this question may be frowned upon by individuals who study evolutionary biology it is an important question to answer as it addresses the issues that are important to understanding of evolution; adaptation and natural selection.
I will
explore this question in two parts first I will explain the adaptation of
lactose tolerance and then I will explore how natural selection effects life history evolution.
Is Lactose tolerance an adaptation?
Lactose
tolerance occurs due to a genetic mutation(s) that confers an ability to digest
lactose from milk. Lactose tolerance appeared as a fortuitous mutation, yet it got
selected as a result of the fitness benefits it conferred; it had beneficial
effects on the adaptedness (absolute fitness) of individual humans within an
environmental context. Natural selection then occurred as a result of
differences in adaptedness of individuals within a specific population; i.e.
some individuals could drink milk into adulthood whereas others couldn’t. Over
time, those individuals that could drink milk into adulthood survived and
reproduced at relatively higher rate than those who could not. Over many
generations, through the process of
adaptation the trait for digesting lactose became adaptive within a spatio-temporal context.
Even though
the trait arose as a fortuitous mutation it became
adaptive as it created differences in absolute fitness and set stage for
natural selection to occur. Lactose tolerance gene was definitely an adaptation
to milk drinking in the spatio-temporal context it evolved in; must this mean
that this trait is as adaptive today as it was in our past? Does a trait’s
noble legacy justify its credentials in the present? This may not always be
true and the answer depends on the differences between past and present and the
nature of life history evolution.
It is
important at this point to understand that all adaptations have three aspects.
a)
Historical; an adaptive trait is present today in an organism because it
provided fitness benefits to its bearers and there was a selection for the adaptive trait.
b) Spatial:
An adaptive trait is a specific solution to a problem posed by a feature of a
given environment.
c)
Eventual: Adaptive traits have the ability to confer (present and future)
fitness benefits to its bearers.
Whether or
not an adaptive trait persists through time depends on a number of factors; the
environment being the most critical of them. If there are minimal changes in
the environment (over evolutionary time) such that the plasticity allows the
trait to persist, then the trait remains a legible solution to the problems
posed by the environment. On the contrary, if the environment has changed substantially enough so that the
plasticity of the trait does not buffer the changes, then the trait finds
itself in uncharted waters. Sober pointed out in “The Nature of Selection” that
“the benefits that account for a traits fixation need not persist into the
present. “The benefits that account for a traits fixation” are governed by the
environment (Sober, 1993).
If one
considers just the historical aspect of an adaptive trait then “a trait can be
an adaptation for performing some task, even though performing that task in the
present environment confers no benefit” (Sober, 1993).
This
statement can be misunderstood as the reader might comprehend that a traits noble
legacy justifies it present credentials. An adaptive trait remains an
adaptation no matter what happens. I would like to clarify what I think Sober
meant for the reader to read between the lines; an adaptive trait remains an
adaptive trait, retrospectively. A
trait is an adaptation just because it was
an adaptation in the spatial context
it evolved. The trait conferred fitness benefits to its eventual bearers.
The trait will still be called adaptive; the process which shaped the trait
will still be called adaptation, but retrospectively. Whether an adaptive
trait is adaptive today depends on the environmental context of the trait. If
the environment is substantially different from the environment in which the
trait evolved and became adaptive then the trait may not confer any fitness
benefits (Remember that the trait is still adaptive but…you guessed
it…retrospectively). If the environment changes, the trait remains adaptive
looking at the past; whether the trait still persists as an adaptation in the
future is another issue altogether.
There are
three scenarios a trait may experience if the environment changes; a) the trait
may not confer any fitness benefits, i.e. remain neutral and adaptive
retrospectively; b) the trait may happen to confer fitness benefits, persist
being adaptive; and c) the trait confers negative fitness benefits and become maladaptive.
Going back
to the adaptive trait of Lactose tolerance, we can either say that Lactose
tolerance was an adaptation in the
spatio-temporal context that favored its prevalence or lactose tolerance is an adaptation retrospectively. Both
statements are correct as long as you understand the definition of an
adaptation. The question therefore is not whether lactose tolerance is an
adaptation. It most definitely is! The question is whether lactose tolerance is
an adaptation in today’s environmental context?
In the arid
climates of Middle and Near east dairy has been suggested to be the major
source of clean uncontaminated water (Cook & Al-Torki, 1975). The individuals that could drink milk into
adulthood happened to have higher relative fitness than those who could not. In
northern Europe dairy was the source of calcium, this must have been crucial in
place where there is very little sunlight (Flatz & Rotthauwe, 1973).
Thus the
trait was selected and as the populations of individuals travelled across the
world the trait travelled with them. In certain places the trait might have
been still adaptive; yet, in other places the adaptive trait might have lost
its relevant environmental context. Rehydration through consumption of dairy is
not a necessity when you live next to a river, for example.
Thus we can
say that in certain populations in the past (and today) the adaptive trait of
lactose tolerance lost its relevance, as it could not confer fitness benefits.
It is lingering in our gene pool as a consequence of fitness benefits it
conferred to its bearers in their environmental
context. Those fitness benefits are not relevant in those populations whose
environmental context has changed. Thus lactose tolerance does not remain an
adaptation in those populations; however, that does not take away the adaptive
legacy of the trait. The trait has become a not-so-benign ghost of Christmas
past.
Lactose Tolerance is a mal-adaptation
Now that I
have established that a trait can lose its adaptive significance in a changed environmental context I will try
to make the case that this trait is not just a neutral adaptation but has the
potential to be transformed into a mal-adaptation in todays environmental
context. Lactose tolerance and the resultant consumption of milk have been
linked to many chronic diseases of the western civilization. Chronic
consumption of milk has been associated primarily with auto-immune diseases
(Type 1 Diabetes, Rheumatoid Arthritis, and Multiple Sclerosis) (Elliott, Harris, Hill, Bibby, & Wasmuth, 1999; Malosse, Perron,
Sasco, & Seigneurin, 1992), consumption of dairy has also been correlated
to prostate cancer and insulin resistance (Pereira et al., 2002; Qin et al., 2004). The ghost-adaptation of lactose tolerance is making
us realize the necessity of changing our ways (I couldn’t help myself there ).
Lactose tolerance today is a mal-adaptation
as the trait was previously selected for by
natural selection, lost its relevance, and now is becoming a crucial factor in
the development of chronic diseases.
Natural Selection and Life History Evolution
There is
another important aspect to the “adaptation” of consuming dairy into adulthood.
It is centered on the workings of natural selection.
Natural
selection operates most quickly on traits and behaviors that are expressed
during the reproductive years of the life cycle. A trait that hampers
reproductive ability in the young will be quickly eliminated from the
population. A trait that is expressed in the in the older individuals will be
removed much more slowly. As lactose tolerance was beneficial for individuals
within a certain environmental context it got selected irrespective of the
long-term effect it caused.
The
following table may help to explain which traits get naturally selected. Traits
and adaptations may have in all four aspects: a) short term benefit, b) short
term cost, c) long term benefit, and d) long term cost
Traits that
have short (during reproductive years) and long term benefits (longevity) will
get naturally selected so will traits that have short term benefit and a long
term cost. Traits with short term cost will get weeded out if they negatively affect
an organisms’ fit with the environment. Lactose tolerance, in todays changed environmental contexts falls
into the category of traits that have short term benefit and long term cost.
Summary
Thus, the
question, “if lactose tolerance is an adaptation shouldn’t we continue to drink
milk?” has two sub-questions. First, is lactose tolerance an adaptation in
todays environmental context? And second aspect deals with nature of life
history evolution and natural selection. The answer to the first question tell
us that lactose tolerance is does not remain an adaptation in a changed environmental context, moreover
it has become a mal-adaptation due to enabling of chronic consumption of milk.
Dairy consumption has been correlated locally as well as globally with many diseases
of civilization. The answer to the second question addresses the issue that a
trait that confers fitness benefits in reproductive life will tend to get
selected even though it has long term costs.
Summary
Statement: Lactose tolerance is a retrospective adaptation that has the
potential to become mal-adaptive in a changed environmental context.
References
Cook, G. C., & Al-Torki, M. T. (1975). High intestinal lactase
concentrations in adult Arbs in Saudi Arabia. British Medical Journal, 3(5976),
135–136.
Elliott, R.
B., Harris, D. P., Hill, J. P., Bibby, N. J., & Wasmuth, H. E. (1999). Type
I (insulin-dependent) diabetes mellitus and cow milk: casein variant
consumption. Diabetologia, 42(3), 292–296.
Flatz, G.,
& Rotthauwe, H. W. (1973). Lactose nutrition and natural selection. The
Lancet, 302(7820), 76–77.
Malosse,
D., Perron, H., Sasco, A., & Seigneurin, J. M. (1992). Correlation between
milk and dairy product consumption and multiple sclerosis prevalence: a
worldwide study. Neuroepidemiology, 11(4-6), 304–312.
Pereira, M.
A., Jacobs Jr, D. R., Van Horn, L., Slattery, M. L., Kartashov, A. I., &
Ludwig, D. S. (2002).
Dairy consumption, obesity, and the insulin resistance
syndrome in young adults. JAMA: the journal of the American Medical
Association, 287(16), 2081–2089.
Qin, L.-Q.,
Xu, J.-Y., Wang, P.-Y., Kaneko, T., Hoshi, K., & Sato, A. (2004). Milk
Consumption Is a Risk Factor for Prostate Cancer: Meta-Analysis of Case-Control
Studies. Nutrition and Cancer, 48(1), 22–27.
doi:10.1207/s15327914nc4801_4
Sober, E.
(1993). The nature of selection: evolutionary theory in philosophical focus.
University of Chicago Press. Retrieved from
http://books.google.com/books?hl=en&lr=&id=6bLZQzDd0f4C&oi=fnd&pg=PR9&dq=nature+of+selection&ots=NqnNZ0V_xs&sig=yt2t6n05ZurIb8JigyFXDenPRVE
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Why we still wear pants
Peter
Turchin recently published a series of blogs (part 1 and part 2) addressing the
question of why westerners wear pants.
It's a story I'd heard before years ago in a comparative Indo-European
studies course, but not from an expressly evolutionary perspective and not with
Peter's flare. It's a good story,
particularly for introducing cultural evolution, and I don't want to spoil it
for those who haven't heard it before.
Nevertheless, not much about this post will make sense if I don't at
least mention that wearing pants came about whenever riding horses became an
important part of warfare.
As
much as I like the story, I made what I thought was a somewhat innocuous
comment saying that I would like to see a follow up series of blogs that
explored why we still wear pants. After
all, very few people ride horses and, aside from some special exceptions, horse
cavalry became obsolete in World War 1.
However, not only has the wearing of pants continued, it has spread,
both to societies we've come into contact with and to women within our own
society. This spread has happened
without any obvious adaptive advantage.
Moreover, this persistence and spread has occurred despite available
alternatives and social movements, such as the androgynous movement of the 1980s,
that attempted, and failed, to change these established practices.
Peter's
response to this question, while not exactly surprising, was surprisingly
dismissive. His position is that there
is no need to explain when cultural traits fail to change. For him, the lack of change is the null
hypothesis. In his own words:
The null model is dp/dt = 0, where p is the frequency of the trait, and dp/dt it’s (sic) rate of change. If there is change, then dp/dt = c, or dp/dt = cp, depending on the details of how the trait changes. In any case, the greater the rate parameter, c, the faster the trait will change. So if c is high enough you will have yearly changes of fashion, if c is small enough, then it will take decades or even centuries.
The failure of something to change, in Peter's view as I understand it, can simply be dismissed as normal inheritance. In the absence of variation and/or in the absence of selection pressure to change, we simply go on as we've always done.
I
object to this position on a number of fronts.
To begin, it appears to be an assumption, not an empirically established
fact. Moreover, all these equations
really establish is that some traits change faster than others, hardly a
startling revelation. What they fail
utterly to do is account for why some traits change faster than others. The salient question, for me, is why dp/dt
should ever be zero, or even near zero.
It
is, of course, entirely plausible that Peter is right, that the failure of this particular trait to change might be due to simple inertial processes. However, this is far from the only
possibility. We need only look to
biological systems to see why this is so.
Robustness, the propensity of a system to continue functioning in the
face of perturbation, is a general property of complex, evolved systems. The structure of DNA and the genetic code are
robust to mutations. Proteins similarly
tend to perform their functions even with amino acid substitutions. This robustness is evident all the way up the
hierarchy of biological complexity. Even
developmental systems are robust to changes in metabolic pathways.
I
see no logical reason to assume this general property of biological systems, a
property that is an adaptation in its own right, should somehow no longer hold
true once the level of complexity moves outside the skin of the individual
organism. Moreover, if evolutionary
approaches to understanding human culture are to meet their full potential,
they must grapple with practical problems in the current world, many of which
represent historical patterns from which groups seem almost incapable of
escaping. For instance, Nisbett andCohen have traced modern rates of male violence in the southern United States
to Celtic herding cultures, an ancestral pattern that has persisted long after
herding faded out as a way of life.
Similarly, Robert Putnam has traced failures of democratic institutions
in southern Italy to patterns of social capital building that go back 500
years.
Treating
the persistence of these problems as nothing more than null hypotheses
drastically reduces the chances of finding real solutions. Aside from blinding ourselves to the root
causes of recalcitrance, robustness paradoxically makes evolvability possible. A handful of textbook examples
notwithstanding, it is rare for a single mutation in biological systems to be
adaptive. Most often, adaptations arise
from a series of mutations. Fragile
systems, however, are relatively incapable of building pools of useful
variation since any slight change is likely to lead to suboptimal
performance. Robust systems, by
contrast, tend to build up pools of variation, some combination of which may
prove adaptive when new niches present themselves or existing environmental
conditions change.
As
for the question that ultimately motivated this post, I have no idea why we are
still wearing pants. If I were to hazard
a guess, I would say that once pants became associated with warrior castes they
acquired protection by virtue of prestige bias.
This in itself, though, might not have been enough to ensure the
practice persisted. More likely, the
wearing of pants started to get tied to concepts in addition to warrior
attire. For instance, pants became associated
with markers of gender identity, group heritage, etc. In other words, it became connected to many
other cultural constructs in intricate webs not unlike the way genes often have
pleiotropic effects in gene networks. If
so, then wearing pants could become difficult to change even if there were
compelling reasons to do so.
Sure,
this is all purely conjecture at this point.
However, it hopefully goes some ways toward demonstrating that lack of
change is a worthy subject for evolutionary study.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Those who help themselves
There was another strand to the conversation I had with Michael Dowd and Connie Barlow the other day that bears consideration. Namely, the subject of what services churches offered came up. Connie mentioned that many liberal churches she's visited or been a part of over the years focused extensively on "doing good in the world" and this was translated into multitudes of community services such as soup kitchens or after school programs for troubled youth.
While this is admirable work and many of these churches really do make a positive difference in people's lives, it does have some rather unfortunate consequences that, while not inevitable, are nevertheless common. In particular, members are asked to volunteer considerable time and resources to supporting these causes, something regarded by many as a serious strain on their already busy lives. More importantly, though, they are being asked to expend these resources largely helping people who are not part of their religious community.
Now, this is where things get really interesting. Before I started studying religious groups I had a very cynical view of the charity work done by churches. I felt that it was all done primarily as a means of recruiting new believers. I thought that food, shelter and clothing was being denied to people unless they were willing to subject themselves at the very least to prayer and a sermon. What I've come to appreciate in my field work, though, is that most churches don't seem to operate this way. They usually open their doors to everyone and many assiduously avoid even the appearance that their community support is contingent upon acceptance of their world view.
This acknowledgment has softened my cynicism considerably, but it has also given it a new focus. Namely, interviews with informants over the years have made it clear that while many in these liberal churches are happy to throw bread to the huddled masses outside their doors, they're rather uncomfortable inviting these people into the sanctuary for worship. What appears on the surface to be an admirable statement of altruism is in effect a line drawn in the sand and those who try to transgress this boundary create a troubling sense of cognitive dissonance for members of the community. They know all too well that the sign in front of the church says that all are welcome. But in reality they aren't well prepared for the all that might come through their doors and they don't really want to be face to face with that all on a pleasant Sunday morning when they would rather catch up with friends and family over coffee and donuts.
But now we're back to the central problem, and it's really a problem of sustainability. If we were to look at this through the lens of Elinor Ostrom's design principles, then these congregations are doing a good job of clearly delineating their boundaries, which, however hypocritical it may seem to be is nevertheless necessary to sustainably manage resources. Yet they are using these resources not to help themselves but to help others. The in group is bleeding itself for the sake of the out group. It doesn't take evolutionary thinking or exposure to Lin Ostrom's scholarship to realize that this state of affairs is not sustainable in the long term except perhaps for those few congregations blessed with an excess of members who are existentially secure with lots of time to spare.
Contrast all of this with more conservative churches, particularly those of the Pentecostal persuasion. Many of these churches also support soup kitchens and after school programs and the like. However, they are far less squeamish about using these events to proselytize. As such, they aren't drawing as distinct a boundary between "them" and "us" since their hope is that the "they" will become part of the "we." Perhaps even more importantly, though, these churches typically offer a huge number of services to help their members as well as non members in the broader community. On the one hand, it seems as though a Pentecostal congregation places extra burdens on its members with an expectation that they come to church three or four times a week. However, congregants are typically getting valuable services for their trouble. Rather than having to find a baby sitter to watch the kids while they go to teach remedial reading skills in an after school program, parents at an Assemblies of God will more likely drop their kids off at the church daycare while they attend seminars on financial planning, good parenting, or marriage counseling. Is it any wonder, then, that they are often able to muster more resources and engage higher levels of commitment than many mainstream Protestant churches? By seeing to the down to earth, practical needs of their members in ways that can help to relieve some of the stresses of modern life they concomitantly increase the ability of those same members to reach out and help those in the wider community, efforts that are unabashedly couched in terms of church growth.
It strikes me that this would be a relatively easy process to study and one we should add to our never diminishing project lists since it leads to a rather simple prediction. Namely, the higher the proportion of in group vs. out group services a church offers, the better it should do in terms of growth and retention of members as well as its ability to engage volunteerism. Conversely, the higher the proportion of out group vs. in group services a church offers, the worse it should do in all those same dimensions.
While this is admirable work and many of these churches really do make a positive difference in people's lives, it does have some rather unfortunate consequences that, while not inevitable, are nevertheless common. In particular, members are asked to volunteer considerable time and resources to supporting these causes, something regarded by many as a serious strain on their already busy lives. More importantly, though, they are being asked to expend these resources largely helping people who are not part of their religious community.
Now, this is where things get really interesting. Before I started studying religious groups I had a very cynical view of the charity work done by churches. I felt that it was all done primarily as a means of recruiting new believers. I thought that food, shelter and clothing was being denied to people unless they were willing to subject themselves at the very least to prayer and a sermon. What I've come to appreciate in my field work, though, is that most churches don't seem to operate this way. They usually open their doors to everyone and many assiduously avoid even the appearance that their community support is contingent upon acceptance of their world view.
This acknowledgment has softened my cynicism considerably, but it has also given it a new focus. Namely, interviews with informants over the years have made it clear that while many in these liberal churches are happy to throw bread to the huddled masses outside their doors, they're rather uncomfortable inviting these people into the sanctuary for worship. What appears on the surface to be an admirable statement of altruism is in effect a line drawn in the sand and those who try to transgress this boundary create a troubling sense of cognitive dissonance for members of the community. They know all too well that the sign in front of the church says that all are welcome. But in reality they aren't well prepared for the all that might come through their doors and they don't really want to be face to face with that all on a pleasant Sunday morning when they would rather catch up with friends and family over coffee and donuts.
But now we're back to the central problem, and it's really a problem of sustainability. If we were to look at this through the lens of Elinor Ostrom's design principles, then these congregations are doing a good job of clearly delineating their boundaries, which, however hypocritical it may seem to be is nevertheless necessary to sustainably manage resources. Yet they are using these resources not to help themselves but to help others. The in group is bleeding itself for the sake of the out group. It doesn't take evolutionary thinking or exposure to Lin Ostrom's scholarship to realize that this state of affairs is not sustainable in the long term except perhaps for those few congregations blessed with an excess of members who are existentially secure with lots of time to spare.
Contrast all of this with more conservative churches, particularly those of the Pentecostal persuasion. Many of these churches also support soup kitchens and after school programs and the like. However, they are far less squeamish about using these events to proselytize. As such, they aren't drawing as distinct a boundary between "them" and "us" since their hope is that the "they" will become part of the "we." Perhaps even more importantly, though, these churches typically offer a huge number of services to help their members as well as non members in the broader community. On the one hand, it seems as though a Pentecostal congregation places extra burdens on its members with an expectation that they come to church three or four times a week. However, congregants are typically getting valuable services for their trouble. Rather than having to find a baby sitter to watch the kids while they go to teach remedial reading skills in an after school program, parents at an Assemblies of God will more likely drop their kids off at the church daycare while they attend seminars on financial planning, good parenting, or marriage counseling. Is it any wonder, then, that they are often able to muster more resources and engage higher levels of commitment than many mainstream Protestant churches? By seeing to the down to earth, practical needs of their members in ways that can help to relieve some of the stresses of modern life they concomitantly increase the ability of those same members to reach out and help those in the wider community, efforts that are unabashedly couched in terms of church growth.
It strikes me that this would be a relatively easy process to study and one we should add to our never diminishing project lists since it leads to a rather simple prediction. Namely, the higher the proportion of in group vs. out group services a church offers, the better it should do in terms of growth and retention of members as well as its ability to engage volunteerism. Conversely, the higher the proportion of out group vs. in group services a church offers, the worse it should do in all those same dimensions.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Architecture as a means of cultural canalization?
Part of being a student of David Sloan Wilson means meeting some very interesting characters. Among some of the more interesting I've come across are Connie Barlow and Michael Dowd. Connie is a science writer and an atheist who has been heavily involved with the Unitarian Universalist movement over the years. Michael is a former Evangelical minister and author of Thank God for Evolution. Together they serve as modern day itinerant preachers for an evolutionary, yet nevertheless highly spiritual, world view. Or perhaps to put it in George Levine's terms, they advocate for a strongly enchanted evolutionary world view. I met them once a few years ago when they gave a presentation at a local church, but didn't get the chance to talk with them in any depth. Luckily, I had the opportunity yesterday when Connie and Michael stopped by the office for a visit to remedy that missed opportunity.
As part of the conversation yesterday, David and I explained our working conception of tight vs. loose groups and how these categories related to tolerance for within group variation. This came on the heels of a discussion about David's desire to create an historical database of Binghamton area churches. Connie put these two streams of conversation together to make a very interesting observation. Namely, she said that congregations associated with old, beautiful church buildings tend to have members running the gamut from religious conservatives to agnostics. As such, we might be inclined to think of them as generally "loose" congregations. However, it is often the case that this variation remains largely buried beneath the surface, protected by a series of often unspoken taboos surrounding subjects that members tend to avoid talking about.
I find this observation fascinating on a number of different levels. At the most basic, it represents a looseness in beliefs accompanied by a tightness in behaviors that we haven't accounted for or even thought about in any of our models. More importantly, though, it brings together many different strands of my recent thinking that I feared were in danger of unraveling. I have been so caught up in recent months with practical issues surrounding empirical work that I have had a growing anxiety that I have been losing sight of my broader theoretical questions about cultural robustness and evolvability. It is important to have moments where you can step back, if even for a moment of clarity, to see how those endeavors are supporting one another.
I'm still mulling all of this over, but a starting point for synthesis comes from Roy Rappaport's Ritual and Religion in the Making of Humanity:
The simple fact of the continued existence of the 1,000-year-old cathedral, for instance, does more than speak of the endurance of a liturgical order and its relationship to a place and a group. It demonstrates it. Even a new cathedral build to a traditional plan demonstrates the endurance of the plan, and thus the order specifying it, and so does the manipulation of sacra which are either themselves ancient or which conform to ancient patterns. (location 2251)
Rappaport here is not discussing cultural robustness directly. Rather, he is discussing the roles of material objects in ritual. Nevertheless, I think he is hitting on something important to my own interests, something that accounts in part for Connie's observation.
Traditionally, churches have been built along certain plans that evoke the sense of endurance and timelessness that Rappaport illuminates here. This becomes an important part of the church liturgy, a concrete (and very expensive) statement that the social order represented by the church is unchanging, that its correctness and morality are something outside of time. This is fine as far as it goes. However, the fact is that society does change over time and the "facts" deeply embedded within the architectural bones of the church at some point begin to become counterfactuals in the minds of those who have attached themselves in one form or another to that structure.
Yet, as Rappaport so convincingly argues, rituals, and the physical structures that support them, are so powerful in part because they remove ambiguity. Either someone participates in a ritual or does not. Either they become a man or woman by virtue of completing a rite of passage or they do not. Either they have agreed to support a family in their war efforts through dancing around the fire or they have not. But Connie's observation points to a flaw in Rappaport's argument. Yes, an ostentatious cathedral enforces the idea that a church's rituals and, hence, ideals are eternal. However, it does not necessarily communicate exactly what those ideals are. If these are not made explicit in other ways then individuals are likely to define these idiosyncratically and a high degree of variation in beliefs is likely to accumulate. That these differences in belief do not necessarily lead to changes in liturgical practices suggests that beautiful, old churches can act as components of cultural canalization. They become physical means by which underlying variation is, if not suppressed, then at least subsumed in a way that allows the outward appearance of the church, its phenotype if you will, to remain unchanged.
As part of the conversation yesterday, David and I explained our working conception of tight vs. loose groups and how these categories related to tolerance for within group variation. This came on the heels of a discussion about David's desire to create an historical database of Binghamton area churches. Connie put these two streams of conversation together to make a very interesting observation. Namely, she said that congregations associated with old, beautiful church buildings tend to have members running the gamut from religious conservatives to agnostics. As such, we might be inclined to think of them as generally "loose" congregations. However, it is often the case that this variation remains largely buried beneath the surface, protected by a series of often unspoken taboos surrounding subjects that members tend to avoid talking about.
I find this observation fascinating on a number of different levels. At the most basic, it represents a looseness in beliefs accompanied by a tightness in behaviors that we haven't accounted for or even thought about in any of our models. More importantly, though, it brings together many different strands of my recent thinking that I feared were in danger of unraveling. I have been so caught up in recent months with practical issues surrounding empirical work that I have had a growing anxiety that I have been losing sight of my broader theoretical questions about cultural robustness and evolvability. It is important to have moments where you can step back, if even for a moment of clarity, to see how those endeavors are supporting one another.
I'm still mulling all of this over, but a starting point for synthesis comes from Roy Rappaport's Ritual and Religion in the Making of Humanity:
The simple fact of the continued existence of the 1,000-year-old cathedral, for instance, does more than speak of the endurance of a liturgical order and its relationship to a place and a group. It demonstrates it. Even a new cathedral build to a traditional plan demonstrates the endurance of the plan, and thus the order specifying it, and so does the manipulation of sacra which are either themselves ancient or which conform to ancient patterns. (location 2251)
Rappaport here is not discussing cultural robustness directly. Rather, he is discussing the roles of material objects in ritual. Nevertheless, I think he is hitting on something important to my own interests, something that accounts in part for Connie's observation.
Traditionally, churches have been built along certain plans that evoke the sense of endurance and timelessness that Rappaport illuminates here. This becomes an important part of the church liturgy, a concrete (and very expensive) statement that the social order represented by the church is unchanging, that its correctness and morality are something outside of time. This is fine as far as it goes. However, the fact is that society does change over time and the "facts" deeply embedded within the architectural bones of the church at some point begin to become counterfactuals in the minds of those who have attached themselves in one form or another to that structure.
Yet, as Rappaport so convincingly argues, rituals, and the physical structures that support them, are so powerful in part because they remove ambiguity. Either someone participates in a ritual or does not. Either they become a man or woman by virtue of completing a rite of passage or they do not. Either they have agreed to support a family in their war efforts through dancing around the fire or they have not. But Connie's observation points to a flaw in Rappaport's argument. Yes, an ostentatious cathedral enforces the idea that a church's rituals and, hence, ideals are eternal. However, it does not necessarily communicate exactly what those ideals are. If these are not made explicit in other ways then individuals are likely to define these idiosyncratically and a high degree of variation in beliefs is likely to accumulate. That these differences in belief do not necessarily lead to changes in liturgical practices suggests that beautiful, old churches can act as components of cultural canalization. They become physical means by which underlying variation is, if not suppressed, then at least subsumed in a way that allows the outward appearance of the church, its phenotype if you will, to remain unchanged.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Substrate Neutral Inheritance Systems
My preoccupation with cultural robustness and evolvability has naturally caused me to think frequently about the problem of cultural inheritance. If we take a broad definition of culture to be non-genetic, non-epigenetic information that is socially transmitted, then culture becomes a Darwin machine like any other. For those unfamiliar with the term, a Darwin machine is any iterative process in which heritable variation is generated and subsequently undergoes some sort of selection. The components necessary for creating a Darwin machine, then, are variation, selection and inheritance.
Note that this formulation is substrate neutral. In other words, it does not depend on what the media of variation, selection and inheritance are. Although the specific details will change, the same general logic applies whether we are talking about genetic systems, certain kinds of evolutionarily inspired computer algorithms or, presumably, culture. This makes the notion of a Darwin machine potentially quite powerful in its ability to describe and understand many different kinds of systems from within a common framework. Unfortunately, though, there remains much work to do in order to realize this potential. In particular, to become more broadly applicable the individual components that make up Darwin machines must also be framed in substrate neutral terms.
To take but one of the necessary ingredients into consideration, how could inheritance systems be framed in substrate neutral terms? To begin to imagine this I think it makes sense to start by considering the necessary components that make up the system we understand best, the genetic inheritance system. So thoroughly studied has this system been that a central dogma has arisen around it that describes the flow of information within cells. This flow begins with information storage in the form of DNA. Almost every cell within a body contains a complete copy of all the genes necessary to build and maintain the organism. However, not every gene is expressed at every moment. Indeed, timing is critical for many cellular processes and so cells have evolved mechanisms to determine which genes should be turned on and off at specific times in response to environmental signals. Once a gene is turned on, it is transcribed into an RNA intermediate which is, most often, translated into a protein product that performs some important function for the cell, be it structural, regulatory or metabolic.
At some level, carving this system up into essential components is a bit arbitrary. Nevertheless, I think some general themes do emerge. For instance, it seems an important component is some kind of information storage system. Obviously, for inheritance to occur there must be some way of transmitting this information to new entities. At the same time, there needs to be an information retrieval system and a crucial part of this information retrieval system would seem to be way of "reading" the environment to "know" what information is required and when it is needed.
Are these the minimal necessary components? Would they be sufficient to establish an inheritance system? Are all of them needed? Are there other components missing from this list? I would very much like to see more discussion along these lines and I welcome any insights others might have.
I recently had someone tell me that there was no need for new, substrate neutral terms. He felt that genetic inheritance provided a sufficiently broad framework and that it could easily be expanded to accommodate other kinds of systems. I think this is a mistake for at least two reasons. First, I worry that using genetic terminology predisposes researchers to only look for the familiar. While there are undoubtedly similarities in cultural and genetic inheritance systems, there are just as assuredly significant differences as well. Foregrounding future work with genetically laden conceptual frameworks makes it likely that at least some of these differences could be completely overlooked.
Second, I believe that taking a step back to look at inheritance from a substrate neutral perspective produces new questions and opens space in which to explore them. For instance, if it is true that an inheritance system needs some form of information storage then an obvious difference between genetic and cultural evolution is that the former contains information in a relatively concentrated from while the latter uses a distributed system. This observation leads naturally to the question of how concentrated vs. distributed systems might respond differently to natural selection. It similarly leads to questions about how information retrieval is achieved in a distributed system in a way that allows entities to respond adaptively to their environment. I don't feel these same kinds of questions emerge as naturally when using analogical reasoning to expand a genetic framework.
Note that this formulation is substrate neutral. In other words, it does not depend on what the media of variation, selection and inheritance are. Although the specific details will change, the same general logic applies whether we are talking about genetic systems, certain kinds of evolutionarily inspired computer algorithms or, presumably, culture. This makes the notion of a Darwin machine potentially quite powerful in its ability to describe and understand many different kinds of systems from within a common framework. Unfortunately, though, there remains much work to do in order to realize this potential. In particular, to become more broadly applicable the individual components that make up Darwin machines must also be framed in substrate neutral terms.
To take but one of the necessary ingredients into consideration, how could inheritance systems be framed in substrate neutral terms? To begin to imagine this I think it makes sense to start by considering the necessary components that make up the system we understand best, the genetic inheritance system. So thoroughly studied has this system been that a central dogma has arisen around it that describes the flow of information within cells. This flow begins with information storage in the form of DNA. Almost every cell within a body contains a complete copy of all the genes necessary to build and maintain the organism. However, not every gene is expressed at every moment. Indeed, timing is critical for many cellular processes and so cells have evolved mechanisms to determine which genes should be turned on and off at specific times in response to environmental signals. Once a gene is turned on, it is transcribed into an RNA intermediate which is, most often, translated into a protein product that performs some important function for the cell, be it structural, regulatory or metabolic.
At some level, carving this system up into essential components is a bit arbitrary. Nevertheless, I think some general themes do emerge. For instance, it seems an important component is some kind of information storage system. Obviously, for inheritance to occur there must be some way of transmitting this information to new entities. At the same time, there needs to be an information retrieval system and a crucial part of this information retrieval system would seem to be way of "reading" the environment to "know" what information is required and when it is needed.
Are these the minimal necessary components? Would they be sufficient to establish an inheritance system? Are all of them needed? Are there other components missing from this list? I would very much like to see more discussion along these lines and I welcome any insights others might have.
I recently had someone tell me that there was no need for new, substrate neutral terms. He felt that genetic inheritance provided a sufficiently broad framework and that it could easily be expanded to accommodate other kinds of systems. I think this is a mistake for at least two reasons. First, I worry that using genetic terminology predisposes researchers to only look for the familiar. While there are undoubtedly similarities in cultural and genetic inheritance systems, there are just as assuredly significant differences as well. Foregrounding future work with genetically laden conceptual frameworks makes it likely that at least some of these differences could be completely overlooked.
Second, I believe that taking a step back to look at inheritance from a substrate neutral perspective produces new questions and opens space in which to explore them. For instance, if it is true that an inheritance system needs some form of information storage then an obvious difference between genetic and cultural evolution is that the former contains information in a relatively concentrated from while the latter uses a distributed system. This observation leads naturally to the question of how concentrated vs. distributed systems might respond differently to natural selection. It similarly leads to questions about how information retrieval is achieved in a distributed system in a way that allows entities to respond adaptively to their environment. I don't feel these same kinds of questions emerge as naturally when using analogical reasoning to expand a genetic framework.
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