Michael Ruse’s most recent
book, like his Darwinism and
its Discontents (2006;
reviewed in RNCSE 2007 Jan–Apr;
27 [1–2]: 50–2), is a general work
on Darwinism, including chapters
on Darwin’s biography, the history
of Darwinian evolution, evidence
for his theory, and chapters on religion
and morality. This time, however,
he is contributing to the
Blackwell Great Minds series,
which includes such titles as Kant,
Descartes, and Sartre. So, as
one might expect, there is more attention
paid here to philosophical
issues, and the general tone is also
more philosophical than the earlier
text. Still, the style is informal
and should be both accessible to
readers of various backgrounds
and useful for readers at various
levels of expertise in evolutionary
(and philosophical) matters.
Most of the topics
included
here have been canvassed before,
and Ruse has not changed positions
on controversial topics such
as the relationship(s) between
Darwinism and religion or morality,
or the status of neo-Darwinism
(including the centrality of population
genetics). The novelty here is
(again) the concentration on
Darwin’s contributions to issues of
primary concern to philosophers.
In order to provide a sense of this
approach, I will concentrate on
one issue, evolution and morality.
The general importance of the
relation between Darwinian evolution
and ethics has increased
recently, with texts such as Richard
Weikart’s From Darwin to Hitler
and Ben Stein’s recent movie
Expelled painting
Darwinism red with innocent
blood. The Discovery Institute
(among others) is using these sources
to push the moral bankruptcy and
culpability of evolutionary science
to anyone who will listen and is
sending copies of Expelled to “key
policy makers” throughout the
country (as reported in a recent fundraising letter from
NCSE).
Even if justified, of course, such
a claim does not affect the scientific
status of Darwinian evolution.
Concern with the Naturalistic
Fallacy (attempting to derive an
“ought” from an “is’” or to defend a
course of action ethically because
it is deemed natural, and so on) has
led more than a few philosophers
and scientists (from Thomas Henry
Huxley to Stephen Jay Gould) to
refrain from finding any clues
about morality in nature. The flip
side of the Naturalistic Fallacy,
however, is the Moralistic Fallacy
(trying to derive “is not” from
“ought not”, or attacking the scientific
status of a theory based on its
allegedly unpalatable moral consequences).
None of the evidence
supporting evolutionary biology is
changed one iota by attacking
social policies allegedly based
upon it. Still, such political attacks
push evolutionists to investigate
seriously what, if any, implications
evolutionary biology may have for
moral theory. This blending of
philosophical and biological perspectives
has been a concern of
Ruse’s for some time — his position
on evolution and morality has
been greatly influenced by Edward
O Wilson, with whom he coauthored
two articles in the mid-
80s (Ruse and Wilson 1985, 1986)
— and is addressed again in chapter
9 of Charles Darwin.
Basically, Ruse holds that human
social behavior is largely under
biological influence, often masked
behind psychological predispositions
(“epigenetic rules”) to
behave as we ought to. These predispositions
are perceived as being
based on objective moral rules,
applicable to all rational beings (p
239–40). Our innate moral intuitions
allow for quick and dirty
judgments about social challenges
where actual calculations of costs
and benefits (and/or duties) would
take far too long to be useful in
most day-to-day affairs (p 236). The
biological mechanisms fueling the
psychological motivations are kin
selection and reciprocal altruism,
well-known to evolutionary biologists
and more than adequate for
mapping onto our actual (as
opposed to idealized) moral behavior
(p 232, 237). Objective, transcendent
moral rules are an illusion
on this view, due to our objectifying
(or reifying) strong moral
sentiments (p 240). They are, however,
“noble lies”, since they provide
motivational teeth for altruistic
behavior and hold some of our
other more selfish motivations in
check for the sake of social intercourse.
So Ruse promotes a skepticism
about the objectivity of
morality (there are no species-independent
moral facts), while
arguing for the possibility of (limited)
altruism being a successful
evolutionary adaptation (that is,
evolution does not invariably favor
selfishness or nature red in tooth
and claw).
This represents one among
many recent attempts to unpack
the relationship between evolutionary
theory and human morality,
and the evolutionary models
used (kin selection and reciprocal
altruism) are accepted by the
majority of interpretations (which
eschew any use of group selection).
With more sophisticated
models of group selection (Sober
and Wilson 1998) on the table,
however, serious investigations of
evolutionary morality may need to
expand the usual armaments available
to individual-level selection. In
fact, another recent work interpreting
Darwin and Darwinism
from a more philosophical perspective
(Lewens 2007) takes just
this path. Lewens shows that
group-level selection is both closer
to Darwin’s own views concerning
evolution and morality, and also
has better evidential support than
many biologists acknowledge.
Another consideration involves
the meaning of “objective moral
facts.” If moral realism is committed
to the view that legitimate “ought”
statements refer to species-independent
moral truths or moral
rules that all rational creatures
(human or not) must acknowledge,
then Ruse and Wilson are right to
disavow such moral facts. But if
moral realism instead (as a counterpoint
to relativism and subjectivism)
need only be committed to
species-wide moral facts, contingent
on human evolutionary and
cultural history, but independent of
individual (or even individual cultures’)
beliefs, then it is not so clear
that objective morality need be an
illusion. If our sentiments are structured
by evolutionary history and
our basic moral intuitions are
grounded on strong emotional sentiments
that include sympathy (and
empathy) and motivate altruism,
then it is possible that, at some
level(s), moral claims can correspond
with human truths, and in
that sense, be factual.
This, too, would be controversial.
But it is not clear that faith-based
or other so-called absolutist
moral codes can do any better at
justifying objective, non-relative
moral claims. There are at least as
many disagreements within and
across such views as there are
among non-absolutist approaches.
In the end, whether one accepts a
position like Ruse’s, or prefers one
that utilizes some notion of group
selection, Darwinists will have no
more difficulty supporting the
grounds for moral behavior than
will the faith-based approaches
that blame Darwinism for the
Holocaust. After all, anti-Semitism
has rich roots in the history of
Christianity, and this history
includes at least as much intolerance
and immoral behavior as does
Darwinism (even when the latter
is construed most broadly, and
inaccurately).