To the
Editors:
Evolutionary psychology
is the attempt to understand our
mental faculties in light of the evolutionary
processes that shaped them. Stephen Jay
Gould calls its ideas and their proponents "foolish,"
"fatuous," "pathetic," "egregiously simplistic," and some twenty-five
synonyms for "fanatical."
Such language is
not just discourteous; it is misguided,
for the ideas
of evolutionary psychology are not as stupid as Gould makes
them out to be. Indeed, they
are nothing like what Gould
makes them out to be.
Evolutionary psychology often investigates the adaptive
functions of cognitive and emotional
systems -- how natural selection "engineered" them to solve
the kinds of
problems faced by
our ancestors in their struggle
to survive and reproduce. The
rationale follows from two premises Gould himself states nicely:
(1) "I ... do not
deny either the existence and central
importance of adaptation, or the production of adaptation by natural selection. Yes, eyes are for seeing and feet are for
moving. And, yes again, I know of no
scientific mechanism other than natural selection with the
proven power to build structures for
such eminently workable design."
(2) "The human
brain is the most complicated device for
reasoning and calculating ... ever evolved on earth."
Quite
so. First, adaptive
design must be a
product of natural selection. Complex
organs like eyes have many precise parts in exacting arrangements, and
the odds are
astronomically stacked against their having arisen fortuitously from random genetic drift or as a
by-product of something else.
Second, the brain,
like the eyes
and the feet, shows signs of good design. The adaptive problems it solves, such as perceiving depth
and color, grasping,
walking, reasoning,
communicating, avoiding hazards, recognizing people and their mental states, and juggling competing
demands in real
time are among
the most challenging engineering tasks ever
stated, far beyond
the capacity of
foreseeable computers and robots.
Put the premises together -- complex
design comes from
natural selection, and the brain
shows signs of complex design -- and we
conclude that much of the
brain should be
explained by natural
selection.
So
where's the controversy? Gould claims his
targets invoke selection to explain
everything. They don't. Everyone agrees
that aspects of
the living world
without adaptive complexity
-- numbers of
species, nonfunctional features, trends in the
fossil record --
often need different
kinds of explanations, from genetic drift to wayward asteroids. So yes, we all
should be, and are, pluralists. But we
should not be indiscriminate pluralists.
Gould blurs his own distinction
when he writes,
We live
in a world of enormous
complexity in organic design
and diversity -- a world where some
features of organisms evolved
by an algorithmic form of natural selection, some by an equally
algorithmic theory of unselected
neutrality, some by the
vagaries of history's contingency, and some as byproducts of other processes. Why
should such a complex and various
world yield to one narrowly construed cause?
It shouldn't, of course, but then most
researchers aren't trying to explain the
entire "complex and
various world." Many
of them are trying to
explain "complexity in organic
design" -- the remarkable natural engineering behind the ability
of creatures to fly, swim, move,
see, and think. Now, complex
design should yield to one
"narrowly construed cause" -- Gould knows of no scientific
mechanism other than
natural selection with
the proven power to build it,
remember? Those blinkered, narrow, rigid, miserly,
uncompromising ultra-pan- selectionists whom Gould attacks are simply explaining complex design in
terms of its only known cause.
In the case of the human brain, Gould accuses
evolutionary psychologists of
ignoring an alternative:
Natural selection
made the human
brain big, but most of our mental
properties and potentials may be spandrels -- that is, nonadaptive
side consequences of building a
device with such structural complexity.
Evolutionary
psychologists are not
ignorant of this hypothesis. They have considered it and found it to be
unhelpful.
First, it
is rooted in a false
dichotomy between "conventional natural selection working
in the engineering mode" and "spandrels," the
nonadaptive by-products that are
"sources for later and
fruitful reuse" and
which "may later
be co-opted" for useful purposes.
What is missing from these phrases is
the subject of the verb. Reuse by whom?
Co-opted by what? Most snails
have a spandrel formed by the
space around their shell axis; what allows some species to use it to brood their eggs? Are they generally more clever
and dextrous? No;
their anatomy and nervous
systems have been altered in an adaptive way to take advantage of the spandrel. So the re-user and
co-opter are none
other than: natural
selection. Not only do co-opted
spandrels implicate selection, but
selection implicates spandrels. We
evolved from organisms without
eyes, feet, and
other complex organs. The organs must have originated in precursors that were spandrels for some ancestral
organism. The distinction
in which spandrels
work "in addition (and sometimes even opposed to)" natural
selection is spurious.
Unlike snails, of course, we humans are
clever enough to co-opt our spandrels
in our lifetimes, as when we use
our noses to hold up eyeglasses. But
how did our brains get clever enough
to do that? This is exactly what a theory of brain evolution must explain.
Explaining the evolution of the human intellect in terms of humans' ability to co-opt
spandrels is circular.
Second, Gould casually slides from saying
that natural selection made the brain
"big" to saying
that the brain was built with "structural complexity," as
if bigness and complexity were the
same thing. As Gould
himself has argued,
bigger brains aren't
necessarily more complex or smarter brains. Worse, the suggestion
that humans were selected for bigger brains is a perfect example of
the sin Gould
attributes to others,
the confusion of a by-product with an
adaptation. If anything is a by-product, it is the size of
the human brain,
which guzzles nutrients,
makes us vulnerable to blows and falls, compromises the biomechanical design of the woman's
pelvis, and makes childbirth dangerous.
Bigness of brain
is surely a by-product of selection for more complex
(and hence hardware-demanding)
computational abilities, ones
that allowed our
ancestors to deal with tools, the natural world, and one another.
A
rejection of Gould's theory does
not put non-adaptive features "outside the compass of evolutionary
psychology"; nor was Gould the first to call attention to them. The
original arguments for recognizing non-adaptive features came from the founding document of evolutionary
psychology, George Williams' Adaptation
and Natural Selection, long
before Gould and Lewontin reiterated them (without attribution) in their "Spandrels" paper. Nonadaptive
explanations have been
commonplace in the
field ever since, as Gould must be well aware, for in one column he touted a non-adaptive explanation
of the female orgasm taken from
another founder of
evolutionary psychology, Donald Symons.
According to the most popular
view in the field, many other
important human activities
are spandrels, including
art, music, religion,
science, and dreams.
Gould's accusation is not even
close to being accurate.
Evolutionary psychology is
"even more fatuous," according to Gould,
for thinking seriously about the environment in which our
ancestors evolved. That is "outside the primary definition of
science," he says, because
claims about that
environment "usually cannot
be tested in principle but only subjected to
speculation." Really? Then
what makes Gould so certain that
our ancestors' environment lacked written language -- the basis for his argument that
reading is a spandrel? Obviously it is the
archeological record, which
shows that writing
is a recent invention, and the ethnographic record, which shows
that writing is absent from cultures
not in contact with any of the inventors. It is precisely such evidence that leads evolutionary psychologists to
infer that the ancestral environment
lacked agriculture, contraception, high-tech
medicine, mass media,
mass-produced goods, money,
police, armies, communities
of strangers, and other modern
features -- absences with profound implications for the minds that evolved in such an environment.
Gould
is uninformed when he repeats
the cliche that evolutionary reasoning is
just cocktail-party speculation. The standards of the
field require a
good empirical fit
between the engineering demands
of an adaptive problem and the facts
of human psychology. The former is
grounded in game-theoretic and
other optimality analyses,
in artificial intelligence and artificial life
simulations, and in relevant sciences such as genetics, physiology,
optics, or ecology. The latter
is based on converging evidence
from experiments with children,
adults, and neurological
patients and from
survey, historical, ethnographic, paleoanthropological,
archeological, and economic data. Far
from being "barren," the
adaptationist approach has, for over a century, driven the
most rigorous, elegant, and
empirically rich branch of psychology, perception. Today it is spawning new insights and intensive modeling and
data-gathering on every
other aspect of the mind, including reasoning, mental
imagery, memory, language, beauty,
sexual desire, autism, emotions such
as fear and
disgust, violence, the
numerical abilities of children and animals, and the shaping of personality.(Note 1) Gould's hostility
to this exciting field is a missed
opportunity for both.
NOTES (1)For
recent reviews, see The Adapted Mind, edited by J. Barkow, L. Cosmides, & J. Tooby; The Moral Animal, by
R. Wright, and
How the Mind
Works, by S. Pinker.