Re: the idea that we evolved to be crappy toward each other

The edges of evolutionary psychology and where our deep history falls short

“No child is born racist.”

Maybe you’ve heard this declaration spoken, or read it on a protest sign. Maybe you saw it on a nicely formatted Instagram post with a long caption about the importance of social justice.

It represents a beautiful and important idea, that how children see the world both now and as adults is to some degree modulated by the influential people in their lives. We have power to influence the next generation, whether for good or evil.

That assertion, however, has some complications.

I’m currently a PhD candidate studying (in part) the positive psychological effects of time spent in nature. And when you study why time in nature is good for people, you’re inevitably going to spend a lot of time studying evolutionary psychology. I won’t bore you with all the details here (because I probably already have in another newsletter), but here are the basics.

Psychology is the study of what we think, how we think, why we think that way, and what that thinking makes us do. Evolutionary psychology looks at how we think and behave in the context of how those thoughts and behaviors evolved through natural selection. Basically, through the lens of evolutionary theory, anything a person is, does, or feels must be explainable as having been genetically selected, because at some point it has been helpful for survival and mating.

Here’s an example: Why do we get embarrassed? Why does the thought of giving a presentation in front of our coworkers make us stressed out?

Answer: Because our ancestors relied on each other to survive. People who felt a very strong desire to be accepted by the group would be more likely to do things that helped them be accepted by the group. Those that didn’t feel any particular desire to be with the group would be more likely to engage in socially unacceptable behaviors, which got them kicked out, which got them eaten by a saber-toothed cat. Those “no-social-anxiety” genes aren’t around anymore. And so most of us, to some degree, care about what people think about us. We feel embarrassment. That feeling of embarrassment once kept us alive.

So, what does that have to do with us being mean to each other? Doesn’t that example show that we evolved to be accepted by the group, to be loved, to be pro-social, to help each other out?

Well, there’s a complication. Because we’re also up against an evolutionary principle known as kin selection.

See, my genes don’t just exist in me. Half of my genes are also in my kids. But not just my kids; half of my genes are also in my siblings. One-eighth of my genes are in my cousins. In social species, genes don’t only survive by making sure the individual who holds those genes survives long enough to reproduce. Genes also survive by encouraging individuals to help their family members survive. One notable example of this is parenting.

Now, as a big-brained, cognitively complex human being, I know who my family is because I’m there for the birth, there are certificates, explicit social trust, etc. In the case of my second son, I can be even more certain because as an IVF baby, my genes and my wife’s genes were mixed together by a doctor in a petri dish.

But how did our ancestors know? How do non-human primates and other mammals (aside from mothers, who know because they gave birth to them) know which family members carry their genes?

Really only one way:

Did they look, smell, or sound like you?

Many social animals identify their kin by sight, scent, and even voice. A huge range of creatures, from sperm whales to macaws, can tell members of their family group apart from other family groups within the same species by voice alone.

The reason this matters from an evolutionary perspective is that in terms of gene survival (which, again, is essentially the only thing evolution selects for), you don’t want to waste any of your precious energy or resources protecting anyone who doesn’t carry your genes.

Some of the more complex social animals have gone beyond this, including non-genetic relatives in their familial group in order to benefit from social group benefits. But interactions between different groups? Those often range from completing ignoring each other to violently killing each other.

All that to say as humans, we are evolutionarily wired to care more about those who look and act like us than those who, well, don’t.

So, that’s that. We’re all xenophobic racists at our core. Looking out for our in-groups and ignoring everyone else. Humanity is doomed. We’ve spent 4 billion years evolving to hate each other.

Not exactly.

Those big, annoying brains of ours give us something besides social anxiety and suspicion. They also give us the capability for what’s known as psuedo-kinship. That’s a fancy way of saying that we’re capable of choosing whom we consider family. We can decide on our in-groups, and once we decide that someone is in our group, we identify with them. We feel love for them. We’ll do things to protect each other. This can happen individually, but it can also be communicated culturally.

That in-group can be your actual family, sure. But it can also be other supporters of your favorite sports team. Or members of your chosen political party.

It can also, with a bit of practice, expand to include all people in your nation. All people on your continent. All people, everywhere.

Practice a bit more at including others in your sense of self, and you might even start including non-humans. Animals. Plants. Fungi. All of life, all your kin. All worth protecting. All worth loving.

Now, that’s not such an ugly thought, is it?

One of my favorite concepts is the idea of loving-kindess meditation. (Because this is my newsletter, I can pretend I do it on a daily basis, rather than the reality which is that I remember to do it roughly once every few months.)

Loving-kindness meditation involves sitting comfortably, like you’re going to do some classic mindfulness. But then you think about someone you love. Then you wish good things for them. Specific, personalized well-wishes for a loved one. Then you move on to someone you feel neutral toward. A random work colleague, for example. The person you buy your lunch from at the deli. You try to think of good things you want to happen to them, and you imagine them happening.

Next, you send psychological well-wishes to a stranger. A person you see walking through the park. A guy riding the bus with you.

Finally, you think of someone you actively dislike. A professional rival, a politician who infuriates you. You try to send them positive vibes. You think about what would make them happy, and you try to genuinely want it for them. You practice feeling a certain way about someone, including them in your kin.

It turns out, this kind of exercise works. It not only makes you feel better yourself, but it can lead to meaningful, lasting change in how you feel about the people around you — even people you previously considered enemies.

And so what makes us distinctly human isn’t our tribal-ness, or our intense sociality and occasional violent hatred of out-groups. Kin selection and sociality are all over the animal kingdom. What makes us distinctly human is how broadly we can choose to define our kin. For us, family is everything — but family can also be anything. Anyone.

So, the question then becomes: if you get to choose your family, who will you include?

Who will you exclude?

Because when you’re capable of a choice, you’re also responsible for that choice.