Richard Dawkins
Richard Dawkins was one of the first
researchers to develop ideas that have come to form the
subject matter of Universal Darwinism. The final chapter
of his book The Selfish Gene entitled 'Memes: the
new replicators' introduced the concept of memes and was
one of the first efforts in modern time to extend the
power of Darwinian processes to explain design outside
of biology.
Richard is a champion of the beauty
and awe inherent to the scientific world view. His book
Unweaving the Rainbow is a plea for the wonders
of science and a rejection of superstition and religion.
Extracted from the July 1995
Wired Magazine
article
"Revolutionary Evolutionist"
Born and raised in East Africa, Dawkins grew up amid
one of the most irresistible bioscapes on Earth. Dawkins
came to Oxford in 1959 as an undergraduate, and
eventually came under the spell of Niko Tinbergen, the
eminent Danish biologist. Author of The Study of
Instinct and winner of the Nobel Prize in biology
for his pioneering work on animal behavior, Tinbergen
was one of the first of the modern ethologists
(biologists who explore and explain the nature of animal
behavior). What is instinct? Tinbergen would ask. What
behavior is learned? How can we truly know the
difference? How does behavior change? How do animals
communicate? How do animals behave differently in groups
than they do as individuals? Why do animals cooperate?
How do they compete?
Ethology, as Tinbergen constantly stressed, was a
highly interdisciplinary biological science, requiring
insights into psychology, physiology, ecology,
sociology, taxonomy, and evolution. Tinbergen focused on
the eternal tension between the breadth of behaviors
observed in nature and a scientist's need to reduce
these behaviors to a set of fundamental principles. "My
own dominant recollection of his undergraduate
lectures," Dawkins recalls, "was that I was particularly
taken with two phrases of his - behavior machinery
and equipment for survival. When I came to write
my first book, I combined them into the brief phrase
survival machine."
Dawkins developed a special protoge/mentor
relationship with Tinbergen. After a stint at the
University of California at Berkeley, Dawkins returned
to his alma mater, where he ultimately became a fellow
at New College (he still teaches there).
Dawkins's dual interest in the nature of machines and
the machinery of nature took place amid the rise of
molecular biology. Just a few years after Francis Crick
and James Watson's 1953 discovery of the double helix,
the molecular biologists - not the naturalists,
zoologists, or ethologists - began calling the
intellectual shots in biology. The increased ability to
track and explain what the genome was and what it was
doing - classic reductionalist science as opposed to
mere descriptive taxonomies - radicalized the way nature
was observed. Centuries of animal breeding had, of
course, created an explicit awareness of links between
genetic endowment and behavior. The double helix became
the new scaffold for erecting theories of evolution.
For the young Dawkins, the ethology of Tinbergen
quickly became the conceptual lens through which he
viewed the world. Behavior, say of the chicks he studied
as a graduate student, was the empirical observation
that Dawkins sought to identify and explain. At the same
time he was observing chicken processing, Dawkins was
busy processing his data with a clunky punch-tape Eliot
803. The machinery metaphor - the machinery meme - that
resonated with and reinforced Tinbergen's ideas
ultimately welded itself to Dawkins's strong notions of
the primacy of the gene. What happens to scientific
thinking if the survival machine is defined by the
machinery of the genes?
Amid this primordial soup of new paradigms, Richard
Dawkins the ethologist rapidly mutated into an
evolutionary biologist. In 1965, he hit upon an idea
breathtakingly simple to understand but extraordinarily
powerful in its implications. In essence, Dawkins argued
for an ethology of the gene: How do genes communicate?
How do genes behave differently in groups than they do
as individuals? Why do genes cooperate? How do genes
compete? The same questions ethologists ask about chicks
and geese and chimpanzees are virtually identical to the
sorts of questions they should be asking about the
genome and its genes.
Others had played with this notion before, but
Dawkins made it his own and aggressively pushed it into
the mainstream of science culture.
As the first true ethologist of the gene, Dawkins de
facto became an evolutionary biologist. How genes behave
over time - which ones dominate, which ones die off,
which ones cooperate, which ones compete, which ones
change, which ones remain the same - is the very
definition of an evolution based on the flow of
information.
When Dawkins published
The Selfish Gene in 1976, the book further
heated the debate over whether humans were ruled more by
nature or nurture, a debate refueled by the emerging
sociobiologists - notably Harvard biologist Edward O.
Wilson in his 1975 book Sociobiology. By
proposing an ethology of the gene, Dawkins shifted that
debate away from the individual animal as the unit of
evolution to the nature, nurture, and behavior of the
genes. With The Selfish Gene, Dawkins offered
scientists a conceptual bridge between the reductionist
imperatives of molecular biology and the taxonomies of
zoology, psychology, and sociology. In other words, the
metaphor of the selfish gene not only created an
important context to explain human and animal behavior -
it also created a framework for molecular biologists to
examine the organic interactions of genes. The metaphor
scaled from double helices to human interactions.
But looking at the richness and complexity of life on
Earth, Dawkins freely acknowledged that an ethology of
the gene alone was simply not robust enough to explain
evolution. So he applied a Darwinian view of culture, as
well. Dawkins argued for the concept of memes -
ideas that are, to use the felicitous phrase of William
Burroughs, "viruses of the mind." Memes are to cultural
inheritance what genes are to biological heredity. A
meme for, say, astrology, could parasitize a mind just
as surely as a hookworm could infest someone's bowels.
Ideas - like genes - could compete and cooperate, mutate
and conserve. They, too, are operated on by natural
selection. Human evolution, Dawkins postulates, is a
function of a co-evolution between genes and memes.
Even that was not enough. Dawkins's intellectual
adventure went well beyond the ethology of genes and
memes to explore an even more radical insight into the
nature of evolutionary dynamics. This idea, too, was
astonishingly simple, but it offers a powerful
intellectual framework for a new understanding of life
as an information process.
What do genes and memes have in common? Dawkins
asked. They are replicators. Through various but
distinct coded systems, they reproduce; they effect
change in their world so they can propagate, just like
viruses in either digital or organic form. Dawkins's
most powerful paradigm is that the unit of evolution is
not the individual - the gene - or the meme, but the
replicator.
This was apostasy to Darwinian evolutionists, who
took it as dogma that the dynamics of natural selection
cared only for the fitness of individual organisms and
absolutely nothing else. But here was Dawkins saying
that what really counted in "nature tooth and claw" was
the replicating code beneath the organism. Evolution is
really the story of replicators Ÿber alles.
Dawkins aggressively evolved this replicator concept.
He noted that discussing the evolution of birds without
looking hard at the evolution of their nests, or at
beavers without considering the evolution of their dams
would be prima facie ridiculous. Each is essential to
the survival of the other. It is the combination of bird
and nest, the combination of beaver and dam, that gives
a competitive edge to the animals who build them. Not
only does the body of an organism march to the orders of
its genes, but so do the artifacts the organism builds
or uses. In this sense, the egg uses both a chicken and
a nest to make another egg, and so the nest, too, is an
evolutionary extension of the egg.
In biology, the genes in the egg would be called its
genotype, while the physical expression of those genes -
the chicken - would be called its phenotype. Dawkins
called this marriage of organism to artifact
The Extended Phenotype - the title of his
second book, published in 1982. Still extending the
outer limits of his replicator idea, Dawkins used this
"extended phenotype" construct to look beyond the
individual and artifact to embrace the family of the
organism, its social group, the tools and environments
it created. These are part of the physical "readout" of
the genes, the extended phenotype of the replicating
code. The invisible code in genes are therefore, in a
very real sense, manipulating large chunks of the
visible world to their selfish advantage.
Of course humans - with our massive and complex array
of technologies - have extended our phenotypes more than
any other living species. Just like a bird's nest, a
beaver's dam, or a groundhog's intricate set of
underground tunnels, our technologies are now an
integral part of our evolutionary fitness. In light of
Dawkins's work, to be a scientist today and talk about
human evolution divorced from technological evolution no
longer makes sense. In the truest and most fundamental
sense, human evolution is now inextricably bound with
technological evolution. Taken to its natural
conclusion, Dawkins's idea suggests that humankind is
really co-evolving with its artifacts; genes that can't
cope with that new reality will not survive into future
millennia.
What happens to life - to artificial life - when our
unit of evolutionary observation becomes the replicator?
By framing life and its evolution in the context of
replicators and networks of replicators, Dawkins has
forced all of biology to reexamine its assumptions of
the fundamental mechanics of living things. Is
technology just what our genes want, or is it a cultural
conspiracy of our genes and memes? Does human DNA
control the technosphere we've created and live in and
around? What does it mean to say that nerve gas and
microprocessors are extensions of selfish genes? These
questions - as much as the genetic underpinning of
embryology and neurophysiology - are the sorts of
questions that evolutionists must now address, posits
Dawkins.
So essential is Dawkins's work to redefining life
that he might have fairly titled one of his books On
the Origin of Replicators and expected it to
revolutionize science in the most radical fashion since
Darwin. But Dawkins is not the sort to run the risk of
parodying Darwin in this way, because of his respect for
the principles of natural selection. Already, however,
this transforming view is proving to be an
extraordinarily robust meme that is rapidly replicating
in human minds.
When Dawkins spoke at the first artificial life
conference in Los Alamos, New Mexico, in 1987, he
delivered a paper on "The Evolution of Evolvability."
This essay argues that evolvability is a trait
that can be (and has been) selected for in evolution.
The ability to be genetically responsive to the
environment through such a mechanism as, say, sex, has
an enormous impact on one's evolutionary fitness.
Dawkins's paper has become essential reading in the
artificial life community. His multidisciplinary,
interdisciplinary fluency in fields ranging from
ethology to software has made him someone who is closely
watched not only by fans of his popular books but
especially by his scientific peers, who range from
Stephen Jay Gould to Marvin Minsky to Roger Penrose.
Now 54, Dawkins has few students of his own. Dawkins
likes tossing around a semi-serious idea of awarding
prize money to spur innovation and ingenuity in
artificial life. (A decade ago, when his Biomorph
program came out, he offered US$1,000 of his own money
to anyone who could find the exact image of a chalice,
or Holy Grail, he had come across in his own
explorations. To Dawkins's surprise, a Caltech software
jock claimed the prize within a year.) Dawkins detailed
his new idea in an exchange of e-mail: "My prize would
be for a visually appealing world in which the
life-forms have a visible, and preferably 3-D,
morphology on the computer screen. They must evolve
adaptations not just to 'inanimate' factors like the
weather (which would produce essentially predictable,
not emergent evolution) but to other evolving life forms
(which is a recipe for emergent properties)."
Excerpt from July 1995