the biology of morality

Authentic morality comes out of a realistic assessment of human nature.  Human beings are not blank slates.  We are born with moral inclinations.  Except for those of us who suffer from personality disorders, we all have innate psychological traits that not only facilitate moral behavior but also incline us to value it.  Had these genetic traits not represented a competitive advantage in the survival game, they would not have been what was produced by the evolutionary process.  I’m not going to attempt to explain the exact evolutionary mechanisms by which the human capacities for love, loyalty, and social cooperation were selected, but we can at least know that had there not been a clear evolutionary advantage to the traits and inclinations that we have inherited genetically, we would not have them.

While human beings are certainly capable of being ruthless or unscrupulous in the pursuit of their own self-interest, that is not surprising given what we know about the evolutionary pressures that have shaped our DNA.  We expect drives associated with self-preservation to be strong.  What is surprising is how common human behaviors that serve a greater good than self-interest are.  Not only is each individual born with a significant capacity for personal virtue; she also has talent for cultural creativity by which she can contribute to and participate in collective moral understandings. 

The social contract is not just a bright idea that some idealistic visionary came up with recently; it has been a matter of survival for millenia.  Human existence has always depended on a critical mass of individuals behaving in ways that contributed to the wellbeing of the whole community.  Our biology has been shaped by that reality.  For the vast majority of time human beings have been evolving, our ancestors lived as hunter-gatherers and absolutely depended being a part of communities.  Who we are genetically is largely the product of the evolutionary pressures that were associated with that.  Individuals who didn’t have the psychological traits that supported participation in social cooperation were not as likely to survive and pass on their DNA.

Consequently, we are genetically hardwired with the capacity to be guided by an internal ethical template somewhat along the lines of the golden rule.  The fact is that supporting the social contract is in virtually everyone’s interest.  Different cultures have different understandings of the social contract, but even though the specific moral expectations are different, the equation is basically the same.  The ability to comprehend the need for a social contract and intuitively knowing how to participate in it are innate.  That is not to say that human beings are especially virtuous.  Self-preservation is still a much stronger drive than altruism.  We have to work with rather than against our natural tendencies.  Given the basic selfishness of human nature, the most stable basis for morality is always going to be enlightened self-interest, the recognition that being a decent human being is the best long term strategy even if we are purely selfish.

Ethical choices never occur in a vacuum.  There is more to morally constructive choices than relying on an inborn sense of right and wrong.  We are capable of morality because of the best in us, but we value it because of the worst.  Moral behavior is almost always a blend of doing the right thing for its own sake and doing it because we want to avoid negative consequences.  Whatever sublime pleasure we might derive from just being good as an end in itself, most of us also find ourselves making many choices based on the recognition that behaving badly will catch up with us in the long run. 

Doing the right thing is always a blend of nature and nurture.  We are born with the capacity for making moral choices, but actual choices are always influenced by the collective wisdom that is embedded in cultural understandings.  At the intersection of individual freedom and the desire to be virtuous, there is a precarious balance between the legitimate right to pursue my own interests and the obligation to play fair.  What is best for each of us, even from a selfish point of view, is some optimal blend of the two.  The idea that what is best for us is always getting as much of what we want as we can is childish and unrealistic, but expecting people to always sacrifice for the sake of the community is not realistic.

Evolutionary biology testifies that cultural commitments that offset pure selfishness make us better competitors in the survival game; otherwise, natural selection would not have given us the many traits that support them.  Some cultures are better than others at fostering socially cooperative behaviors.  Ideally, how cultural moral understandings are shaped is a blend of conscience and intelligent, open reflection on ethical dilemmas.  The individual has a responsibility at the macro as well as the micro level and a responsibility to participate in the shaping of the collective conscience as well as the responsibility to heed it.  The collective conscience is constantly being informed by actual experience and by publicly shared reflection on that experience.  I have a responsibility to speak up when social mores are a function of small-mindedness rather than truly promoting socially constructive behaviors.

An illustration of the tension between the social contract and self-interest is a game theory application called the prisoner’s dilemma.  The prisoner’s dilemma is based on a scenario where two suspects are in two different interrogation rooms and are each offered a deal.  Each of them can win sympathy with the prosecutor by snitching on the other one.  A suspect who doesn’t snitch but is snitched on receives the greatest penalty.  A suspect who snitches but isn’t snitched on does the best for himself.  Either of them can improve her own fate by snitching on the other, but if neither snitches, they both get off relatively easy.  So the best outcome for both of them is if neither cuts a deal with the prosecutor.   Unfortunately for them though, that is an unstable solution because each of them can do better by screwing the other one, no matter what the other chooses.  It turns out that the most likely outcome is that they both snitch and thus both lose. 

It is easy to see the how the prisoner’s dilemma game parallels real social situations.  Putting aside the fact that the characters in the scenario are criminals who are presumably involved in antisocial behavior, choosing to not snitch can be seen as socially cooperative behavior.  It is more beneficial to the other guy than it is for me.  Most of the time any one of us can improve our short term gain by being selfish mercenaries.  The curious fact though is that, in real life, socially cooperative behaviors happen anyway.  In order to more adequately model actual social cooperation, game theorists have expanded the prisoner’s dilemma game to a serialized format known as the iterated prisoner’s dilemma game.  It turns out that if the players know that snitching in one round will likely be punished in a subsequent round, they are less likely to snitch.  The take-home lesson is that the most stable basis for social cooperation seems to be an approach that combines enlightened self-interest with a means of holding each other accountable. 

Truly moral behavior is a blend of the following elements:

·         I have a basic sense of the difference between right and wrong, and I care.  In other words, I have a conscience.  All other things being equal, I generally prefer right over wrong. 

·         I am willing and able to be honest as I reflect on the ethical implications of my decisions, commitments, and actions.

·         My self-interest is enlightened by my understanding of ultimate consequences.  Getting what I truly want in the long run usually involves acting in good faith along the way.

·         I am committed to the social contract for consciously selfish as well as virtuous reasons.

·         I want to have a reputation for being decent, trustworthy, and fair.

·         I participate actively in the shaping of the collective conscience, and I make ethical decisions in the light of collective wisdom.

·         I resist the pressures of groupthink and speak up when the collective conscience becomes small-minded condemnation of those who are marginalized.

·         I guard with special care the rights of minorities because their voice is a crucial corrective to blind spots of the majority perspective in the process of collective discernment, and how I treat those who can’t push back is the truest reflection of my own ethical commitments.

·         I value the rule of law because without it the strong devour the weak and there is no justice.

·         I am supportive in word and deed of formal and informal retributive justice as a deterrent (though I guard against getting carried away by reckless vigilantism).

·         I support checks and balances on power.  This includes public servants, law enforcement personnel, teachers of children, authority figures, religious leaders, experts, persons who enjoy wealth and privilege, and demagogues.

·         When I find it necessary to dissent, I am guided by an understanding of the principles of civil disobedience.

This is not a foolproof process that guarantees positive outcomes.  It is a deliberative process that is characterized by struggles, uncertainty, and failure, but it is a more sound and realistic strategy than any version of traditional morality.  It is an eyes-wide-open approach to moral choices.