The Selfless Genie

Watching Richard Dawkins's programme on Darwin last week had David shifting about in annoyance saying TV shouldn't be allowed to broadcast such rubbish. On such subjective criteria, our screens would be blank. Anyway, as I was on my own last evening, I could watch part two without let or hindrance. Am I Dawkins fan? Of course not. I just fantasize about presenting him with an argument so pithy and logical that it would have his biological wires shorting, and so my enjoyment of such programmes is the search for the hole in the theory. I'll not be the one to find it - an intuitive sense of wrong! is no argument - but one day this prophet of rationalism will fall from his horse, blinded by a Damascene light, and I want to be there when it happens.

The series certainly got more interesting last night as Dawkins asked the question, why altruism? Why are we kind, charitable and generous? He outlined the evolution of his own thought, from the view that looking after one another helps us survive to the rather grander perspective that humans have gone further with altruism than animals, that we are kind to strangers and not just kin, for the reason that the selfish gene (which he proposes as the motive of life) has misfired in the human species, that we are going beyond our causes, that we have seen and understood what made us and have decided to go further.

If this keeps biologists happy - because in our heightened state we cannot allow our specialisms to be cross-contaminated by others (i.e. a biologist cannot be a theologian or philosopher) - so be it, but there's a problem. There's probably many, but I can only see one. In order to believe in the selfish gene (and belief is what is required in the absence of proof), we have to swallow the proposition that this infinitesimal speck of creation (I just looked up 'gene' and find it is a 'unit of heredity', a particle of a chromosome, a code) has a mind of its own. As does nature. And as, apparently, does 'evolution', which appears to be a force worthy of personification: a metaphor which allows such statesments as 'Evolution has no goals'. That's an awful lot to swallow, but I guess there's room if we've disgorged gods, angels and the Creator, on the grounds that they are invisible, non-existent fantasies.

What's upsetting Dawkins, apart from the Creationists, is the idea of social Darwinism, an idea which says that, if nature is ruthless, we may as well be the same, especially in war and business. He very deftly kicked this one into touch by demonstrating that 'niceness' is a factor in sexual selection. But if this were true, how come there are so many abused women and children in the world? Why are so many wives dumped in preference for another, another who is younger rather than nicer? All the magazines tell us to keep our figures, not our smiles. Even children in the playground follow the bully rather than the nice kid. It's not enough, professor, not enough.

Being nice, kind, charitable and generous: these are Dawkins's words to explain the spanner in his selfish works. There is another word he did not use, dare not use. It is love. And that, according to St Paul, is what God is. Let us dispense for a moment with the image of God as a being, that phantom which science has been attacking since science began. Let us agree with the scientists: he does not exist. Not in that form, or any form. If we could only stop punching shadows, we might come to realise that we are all saying and believing the same thing, only in different terminologies. That by which Dawkins sees, knows, wonders and understands; that by which there is beauty (and no, it is not a matter of sexual selection - trees don't look gorgeous to other trees); that by which all beings may act with no reward for themselves (apart from a sublime moment of being other than themselves); that ineffable, mysterious thing which provides no evidence of itself except that which is all around us (and in us) for those with the eyes to see: that is love, that is God.

Having the eyes to see is the important thing. Being able to see the Good comes naturally but stays only by education. Our vision of truth is easily distorted, even warped by the opinions of others, especially those who are both eloquent and clever (and good-looking). It needs nurture and culture. Being nice breaks down all too easily in extreme situations. We need the strength of wisdom and I propose that any system of thought which depends on considering those who differ from it to be fools is not the best place to find it.

One last thought: apparently the double-helix of DNA fits into a golden rectangle and in cross-section it is a decagon, which is formed from two pentagons, and the ratio of the diagonal of a pentagon to its side is Phi : 1. A philosopher would say from this that all life, and life itself, is formed out of beauty. A biologist would say that our idea of beauty comes from our genes.

Anyone interested in reading about the significance of Darwin's nausea both to himself and all mankind should read Patrick Harpur's wonderful book, 'The Philosopher's Fire: a History of the Imagination'.

I've blathered enough. Over to this morning's 'Thought for the Day' courtesy of the School of Philosophy in New Zealand:

To say that I am made in the image of God is to say that Love is the reason
for my existence, for God is love.
Love is my true identity. Selflessness is my true self. Love is my true
character. Love is my name.

- Thomas Merton
(1915 - 1968)
American Trappist monk