Showing posts with label SETI. Show all posts
Showing posts with label SETI. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Eusociality

  Certain invertebrate species such as ants, in which individuals subordinate their own needs to those of the group, are said to be eusocial.  The term has also been applied more loosely to some vertebrate species, particularly Homo sapiens.  Unlike ants, though, humans act selfishly for their own survival and reproductive benefit as well as altruistically for the benefit of groups to which they belong.

  Eusociality is the thought-provoking subject of my book club's latest selection, The Social Conquest of Earth by E. O. Wilson of Harvard University.  Wilson is one of the world's leading biologists and probably its leading entomologist.  His lifelong study of eusociality in insect colonies led him to study it in humans, in order to explain how we came to dominate the biosphere.  In describing the difference between eusociality in ants and humans, Wilson wryly observed that "Karl Marx was right, socialism works, it is just that he had the wrong species."

  A warning before I proceed: Wilson is one of the originators and a strong proponent of a controversial sociobiological theory which asserts that eusociality is dependent on evolution of groups as groups, a level of evolution above that of individuals.  As did Darwin with ant and bee colonies, he sees the group as a macro-organism, subject to forces of natural selection.  It is a top-down theory, in which the group selectively chooses as members those who express a set of innate altruistic traits favoring the group's success in competition with other groups.  Wilson is an equally strong opponent of an alternative evolutionary theory called kin selection, a bottom-up theory, which posits that altruistic behavior in groups evolves only because individuals in the groups already share family genes, and accordingly at times act selflessly to assure the perpetuation of their genes in others if not in themselves. 

  The argument literally rages.  Evolutionists Jerry Coyne of the University of Chicago and Richard Dawkins of Oxford have unsparingly attacked Wilson [1,2].  In the remainder of this posting, however, I'll summarize some key points of Wilson's book as well as I can—it is not always easy for a layperson to follow.

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  The development of eusociality is quite rare.  Of the many millions of invertebrate species, only a score or so have independently achieved it, the remaining species competing largely at the level of individuals rather than groups.  (Think flies and ants.)  Among vertebrates, eusociality is even rarer, having occurred in just a handful of species, including Homo sapiens.  Its appearance in ants has led to their dominance over the insect world, in humans to their dominance over the world at large.

  What is amazing, Wilson maintains, is that eusociality has occurred at all, for the evolutionary maze that leads to it is so extensive and full of twists and dead ends, that for any species to wend its way through the maze is something of a miracle.  After all, eusociality must get its rudimentary start in a species where the rule is selfish natural selection at the individual level, and selflessness/altruism the exception.  Still, ants and their precursors negotiated the maze successfully over many millions of years, as did the line of hominins leading to Homo sapiens in a somewhat shorter time.  Wilson describes the process as involving a long sequence of small evolutionary pre-adaptations over hundreds of thousands to millions of years, leading to a tipping point where the random mutation of as little as a single gene in an individual could start the final conversion to full eusociality.

  Eusociality in humans is of course very far from the extreme of the genetically homogeneous, fixed-caste behavior of ants, yet goes much farther than the social behavior of other vertebrates.  A critical competitive advantage of humans vis-à-vis other vertebrates is that they build defensible, multigenerational, task-allocating cooperatives to which members may have no genetic kinship.  Each community, Wilson says, selects for inclusion individuals who express a desirable subset of altruistic behaviors, most of which were already deeply ensconced in the human genome at the time Homo sapiens emigrated from Africa some 60,000 years ago.  The chosen subset reflects the evolved culture of the group.

  The tension in mankind between the opposing forces of individual/selfish natural selection and group/selfless selection is complex.  Genetic evolution in the former arises from competition between members of a group, in the latter from competition between groups. The two types of competition point evolutionarily in opposite directions because one requires selfishness and the other altruism.  Homo sapiens maintains a tenuous balance between the two because of what Wilson calls the "iron rule": selfish individuals beat altruistic ones, yet groups of altruists beat groups of selfish individuals. 

  The relationship between genes and culture in eusocial groups is also a critical element in group evolution, Wilson asserts, and equally complex.  In building a culture, genes make available not just one trait as opposed to another, but patterns of traits that together define the culture.  The expression of multiple traits is plastic, allowing a society to choose an ensemble from many available combinations, the choices differing among societies.  Wilson contends that the degree of plasticity itself is subject to evolution by natural selection.  These concepts add another perspective to the nature/nurture question, very different, e.g., from one presented in a book by psychologist Bruce Hood that I discussed in my posting The Self.

   A final, quintessential point.  For Wilson, the indispensible requirement for the development of human eusociality—without which group selection could not have proceeded—is the primitively evolved instinct to form tribes.  He says that people feel they must belong to tribes for their existential sense of identity, security and well-being.  Eons ago they were small bands that hunted and gathered together, built encampments, and defended each other and their young.  Today, individuals join many interlocking tribes—city, country, religion, even sports teams—each commanding loyalty, communal effort, and competition with other tribes of the same genre.  In  this sense group evolution is bilateral: groups select individuals based on group needs, and individuals choose groups based on their own needs.

  As evidence that the tribal instinct is extremely deeply embedded in the species, Wilson cites a recent experiment showing that, when pictures of out-group people are flashed in front of experimental subjects, their amygdalas—their brains' centers of fear and anger—activate so quickly and subtly that the conscious centers of their brains are unaware of the response.  Other experiments revealed that even when experimenters created groups at random, inter-group prejudice quickly established itself, subjects always ranking the out-group below the in-group.

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  Many of the ideas in Wilson's book are indeed controversial, and at times I found them alternately too detailed or too sketchy.  Still, it is a feast for thought, which has forced me to reconsider some previous musings in this blog.

  First, the deep-seated need for tribal association undermines my conjecture in a recent posting, where I discussed tribalism/clannishness and what I called their antithesis, "anticlans."  I suggested that tribalism might be ready for obsolescence in our modern, globally hyper-connected society.  I was of course out of my depth, and therefore took to wild speculation.  I asked whether the modern obsessive inclusiveness of social-networking activities could lead to a widespread "we're all in it together" anticlan behavior, which over the long run could evolutionarily trump the exclusionary, "we vs. them" behavior of clans. 

  I think Wilson would answer my question with a definitive "No."  He spends just one paragraph of his 350-page book noting that the increasing interconnection of people worldwide through the internet and globalization weakens the relevance of ethnicity, locality, and nationhood as sources of identification.  Tribes may wax and wane and sources of tribal identification may shift, but Wilson would hold that tribalism itself will survive, overwhelming anticlan behavior just as it has always defeated less-tribal species.  Bummer.

  Second, the almost-impossibility of negotiating the evolutionary labyrinth to yield a species like Homo sapiens sheds further light on my posting on the search for extra-terrestrial intelligence (SETI).  In a catalog of obstacles to the success of SETI, I listed the rarity of a star having a planet capable of hosting life at all, much less an advanced civilization that was existent at a time when electromagnetic radiation from it might be detected by us now.  If Wilson is correct about the very remote possibility that Homo sapiens could have evolved on Earth, the odds against there being a similar one extraterrestrially are even larger than I thought.  Could we therefore be alone in the Galaxy, dare I say in the universe?  We'll probably never know.  Bummer again.

  I sometimes wish that newly developing scientific theories didn't get in the way of one's fondest hopes.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Homage to Pluck

  Why would someone doggedly pursue an objective regarded by most as quixotic?  Face a probability of success that is infinitesimal?  Spend a whole career doing so? 

 Many have asked such questions about the extraordinary scientist Jill Tarter, director of the Center for SETI (Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence) Research.  I thought of those questions on the occasion of last weekend's SETI conference, which celebrated her 35-year career in SETI as she steps down at 67 from the Center's directorship.

  No one is more identified with SETI than Tarter.  You may have seen her in fictional form as the young scientist played by Jodie Foster in the 1992 film Contact, which was modeled on Tarter's life and work.  (It's a film worth seeing if you haven't yet, and watching again if you have.) 

  What is the substance of Tarter's life work, which invites so much skepticism?  The fundamental issue is not whether there might be life of some sort elsewhere in the universe.  I think that most scientists, including Tarter, would bet that there is.  After all, there are 200-400 billion stars in our Galaxy alone and about 100-200 billion galaxies—altogether on the order of a trillion trillion stars in the observable universe.  And we now know from observations in our Galactic neighborhood by the Kepler space telescope that planets orbiting stars are pretty common, a few of them possibly habitable.  As has been said, if there is no life anywhere else in that enormous universe, it would be an incredible waste of real estate!

  However, extra-terrestrial life is surely preponderantly primitive, mostly microbial, as it is on Earth.  It might be successful in taking root in the most extreme places, as it has in the scalding, sulfurous vents deep in Earth's oceans.  There are at least two such sites even within our solar system—Mars and Jupiter's moon Europa—where conditions seem right for microbes to exist in subsurface water.  Space probes sent to those bodies might possibly find such life within decades. 

  No, Tarter has devoted herself to an incredibly harder task: discovering intelligent extra-terrestrial life.  Such life, if it exists at all, is almost certainly extremely rare, even rarer if it were technologically at a stage of exhibiting signs of its presence that we could detect, and rarer still if it were disposed to purposefully emit a powerful beacon announcing that presence.  For comparison, Earth has hosted life for 4.5 billion years, yet only for the past century has one species of its intelligent life—homo sapiens—displayed extra-terrestrially detectable signs of its existence; none of those signs is an intentional beacon.  In other words, planet Earth has been announcing the existence of its intelligent life for only a hundred-millionth of its history, and only marginally. That small time window is but one mark of how unlikely it would be for us to see detectable signs of intelligent life from any given planet at any given time—and this is presupposing a prior unlikelihood, that life had already started on that planet in the first place and could evolve into a technologically sophisticated civilization

  To elaborate further on the long odds against SETI, look at the full array of obstacles it still faces, even assuming that it will have what Tarter never had: a hoped-for radio-telescope observatory that can simultaneously view a million stars in our Galaxy over a very wide band of frequencies. (Tarter was able to check out but a few thousand stars at limited frequencies.)  First, at least one of those million stars—say it is X light-years away—must have a very rare planet like Earth, capable of hosting life that could eventually evolve into an advanced civilization.  Next, precisely X years ago such a civilization must have already developed and have been in that tiny time window, such as our current epoch on Earth, when it had the technical sophistication to show detectable signs of its presence, hopefully an intentional beacon.  Next, SETI's observatory must be sensitive enough and looking at the right frequencies to detect those signs, and be able to determine that they are not random.  What are the chances that all these suppositions will simultaneously be true?  Certainly not zero, but still minute.  Such are the daunting considerations that Tarter has faced throughout her career.

  So that brings me back to the questions I posed at the outset: what keeps Tarter and her colleagues going up against such enormous odds, with the almost-certainty that success will not come in their lifetimes or maybe ever?  Part of the answer must surely be the intellectual satisfaction of creating tools for the hunt; in one generation these tools have gone from single-antenna radio telescopes and primitive computers to large radio-telescope arrays and very powerful computers.  Another part of the answer must be the thrill of the hunt itself.  Yet another is the huge payoff if the hunt is successful.  But I think Tarter has said it best herself: "The great thing about being a scientist is that you never have to grow up.  You can keep on asking 'Why?' "

  Although Tarter is stepping down from the SETI Center directorship, she is not retiring.  She has dedicated herself to raising funds for SETI, which have dried up in these depressed economic times.  SETI's main observatory, the privately funded Allen Telescope Array (ATA), had to be shut down for some months at the end of last year for lack of operational funds and is now barely limping along.  Tarter's new goal, she says, is to present the next generations of SETI researchers with the planned 350-antenna ATA (it now has 42 antennas) and enough funding to keep it operating at full staffing.

  Bottom line: I think we should all pay homage to this exceptional woman.  Few of us would have the courage to spend our careers as she has, on such an other-worldly, almost-impossible objective. I suggest that you savor her charm, vitality and pluck by watching her 2009 presentation at TED.