On the Origin of Morality and Religion – Group Selection or God?

This article is a continuation of my critique of The Righteous Mind by moral psychologist Jonathan Haidt. As per the groundwork I laid in the previous article, I am investigating the claims in this book through the lens of a Christian biologist. As your worldview, belief systems, and educational background all colour your opinions on any given topic, I give my beliefs and background upfront. However, although these things influence every individual’s ideas and opinions, I believe there exists such a thing as objective truth – i.e. reality. Here, I attempt to compare how the ideas put forth in The Righteous Mind compares with those found in the Bible, and how both of these compare with what we actually know about life.

As religion is seen as a moral watchdog, any book about the origins of morality must at some point discuss the origin of religion, and how it relates to morality – a chapter is devoted to this specific question in The Righteous Mind. Haidt has an interesting approach to the topic, which stands in contrast to fellow atheists who have a biological science background (e.g. Richard Dawkins). Although he expresses the same unshakeable faith in the ability of evolution to produce everything – including our sense of right and wrong – his approach is very different to that of most evolutionary biologists.

Atheistic biologists hold that humans are merely advanced apes, so they try to explain all human characteristics in the same way they explain animal characteristics (interestingly, according to Haidt, prominent biologist Stephen Jay Gould has given up on natural selection as an explanation for recent human evolution). There are great difficulties with trying to do this – the whole square pegs in round holes problem, again – because people do things that no animal ever does. Firstly, people can be self-sacrificially altruistic, which means that they do things for the benefit of others, without receiving any benefit in return (and even suffering a cost for it – hence the sacrifice). Secondly, people around the world, irrespective of culture, have a tendency to worship something greater than themselves, and/or to live for a higher purpose of some sort. The latter does not only apply to so-called religious people, either. Most atheists (including Jonathan Haidt, as he states in his book) search for meaning and purpose in life, and very often are extremely dedicated to one or another higher purpose (e.g. saving the environment).

The New Atheists (including Dawkins) try to explain self-sacrificial altruism in humans by invoking “misfiring natural selection”, and religion as a type of cultural virus that spreads itself by infecting unsuspecting human ‘hosts’. To his credit, Haidt finds the obvious holes in their theories, which are mainly caused by the New Atheists’ outright hostility towards anything to do with God, rather than a calm examination of the facts. However, his attempted explanation runs into the same problem as the others – the simple fact that humans are fundamentally different to animals.

In trying to show that humans have evolved some form of morality and resulting religious tendencies, Haidt looks to the theory of group selection. By his own admission, this theory has been rejected by biologists since the 70’s, having originally been proposed by Charles Darwin. The idea behind group selection is that groups of animals are selected by evolutionary processes based on the overall reproductive success of the group (in other words, the group gets larger over time and produces new groups). Consequently, the reproductive success of individuals living within these groups is less important than the success of the group itself. You will then find individuals sacrificing themselves altruistically for the good of the group. On the surface, it seems that there are animal species that function this way – for example in social dog species (such as the African wild dog), only the dominant alpha pair will produce offspring, whilst the subordinates willingly help raise the pups by providing food and protection. A more extreme example (and one that Haidt uses) is that of honeybees, whereby most of the bees cannot actually reproduce and instead will risk life and limb to provide food and protection for the queen bee’s offspring. In both cases it appears that the non-reproductive animals are acting selflessly or altruistically for the good of the group.

The reason this seemingly logical theory came to be rejected by biologists was a greater understanding of the unseen factors at play in these species. The greatest of these, of which Darwin was not aware, is genetics. Once genetics is factored into the above situations, it turns out that the supposedly altruistic non-reproductive individuals are actually acting in their own best interests. In both cases, the individuals in these groups are closely related – more so in bees than in dogs.

For African wild dogs, the alpha dogs are likely to be siblings, parents, or aunts/uncles of the subordinate dogs. This means that the offspring from the alpha pair are quite closely related to the subordinates who act as food providers and babysitters. Each subordinate dog has to weigh up the risks and rewards (in terms of reproduction) of leaving the pack and setting up its own pack as an alpha, versus staying with its current pack. By staying with the current pack, it helps contribute some of its own genes to the next generation, which is a reward in evolutionary terms. Leaving its pack poses several risks to survival, and they will usually only do this if they can take a few other pack members with them. The reward of establishing a new pack as the alpha is that more of that individual’s own genes will be contributed to the next generation, as its direct offspring shares more of its genes than, say, a nephew or niece would.

Studies of social species like wild dogs show clearly that each individual behaves in such a way that it will contribute the most genetic material it possibly can to the next generation. Those that make unwise decisions contribute fewer genes to the next generation, thus all genetically inherited ‘unwise behaviour’ (such as not helping rear offspring that are indirectly related to you) is selected against in the long-term.

For honeybees, genetic relatedness amongst hive members is so great that the hive functions as one mega-organism. The non-reproductive females that do most of the provisioning for the hive are more closely related to the females they are helping their queen to raise, than they would be to their own daughters (as explained here). This means that it is to their own benefit to work for the good of the hive, rather than striking out on their own.

Both examples above are now known as kin selection, rather than group selection. This recognises that seemingly non-reproductive individuals are actually reproducing by proxy. Individual-based natural selection is thus the ultimate driving force behind this behaviour. In social animals living in less closely related groups, we find a lot less apparently sacrificial behaviour, although instances of ‘reciprocal altruism’ do occur. This is basically an “I’ll scratch your back if you’ll scratch mine” scenario, as seen in primates that groom each other, or herd-living antelope that warn each other of predators. The reason such behaviour exists is that by cooperating with one another, these animals are likely to benefit more than if they chose not to cooperate. Uncooperative individuals are less likely to contribute to the next generation than cooperative individuals. This, too, is simply a variation on individual-based natural selection.

Thus we can see that true altruism – i.e. self-sacrifice where one does not expect a benefit in terms of survival and/or reproduction – does not actually exist in the animal kingdom. In rare events, an animal’s natural instincts (e.g. maternal care) can lead to animals appearing to be kind, especially if the animal is subjected to artificial conditions or breeding (apparent kindness is even rarer in natural situations). These could be seen as actual cases of “misfiring natural selection”, as instincts that would ordinarily be directed towards their genetic relatives are misdirected towards unrelated animals or humans due to artificial conditions (e.g. domestication).

If you have read the first article in this series, you will recall that animal behaviour is less predictable than plant behaviour, or reactions among non-living objects. Nevertheless, animals in natural situations consistently behave in genetically selfish ways, and those that don’t are quickly weeded out of the general population through individual-based natural selection. The needs of the group never outweigh individual needs, and individuals will split from groups whenever it becomes reproductively beneficial for them to do so. The idea of group selection in nature died a natural death amongst biologists as they came to this basic realisation.

Enter now the most difficult species on earth to study in biological terms. A species made up of individuals who break the mould frequently and unpredictably. Where self-sacrificial altruism, although rare, is widely respected and admired. Where devotion to some higher purpose drives people to forgo reproduction and/or live in ways that are likely to shorten their lifespans. Where people do things that risk their own lives, yet when asked why they state simply: “it was the right thing to do”. Yet, despite this incredible capacity for self-sacrificial good, other members of the same species are wantonly cruel and violent. Such people are widely condemned in human society as ‘evil’ – a description that cannot be applied to instinctive animal behaviour. Anyone studying humans, or simply being human, must at some point provide an answer to the paradox that is the human race.

Jonathan Haidt tries to explain this paradox using group selection. According to him, “human beings are the giraffes of altruism. We’re one-of-a-kind freaks of nature who occasionally – even if rarely – can be as selfless and team-spirited as bees.” Notwithstanding his misunderstanding of both giraffes (as unusual as they are, natural selection works on them just as it does on any other species) and bees (they are as genetically selfish as any other species), group selection still doesn’t explain human behaviour, as he would like it to.

Firstly, this is an open admittance that humans are fundamentally different to animals. Every other species – including giraffes and bees – are subject to individual-based natural selection. Even in highly social species, the interests of the group never supersede those of the individual, and more specifically, the individual’s genes. As an atheist who believes firmly that humans are advanced apes, Haidt hereby concedes that we are much more than that. So much so that he needs to invoke a totally different means of evolution (group-based, rather than individual-based) to try and explain away these glaringly obvious differences.

Secondly, this theory simply ignores cases where people are self-sacrificially kind to those who are outside of their own social group – which represent some of the most stunning and admired cases of altruism. Haidt admits that much in the book, saying that his theory really has nothing to say about those who are kind to strangers, as in the story of the Good Samaritan told by Jesus in Luke 10:30-37. Furthermore, he carefully skirts the logical conclusion of group selection.

If groups of humans (e.g. nations) compete with each other just as individual animals compete with each other, then we should be genetically programmed to praise those groups of humans that fully dominate all other groups. That should be seen as the ultimate success, and should therefore be considered ‘morally good’ by all humans. Yet the World Wars were fought precisely because one nation wanted to aggressively ‘outcompete’ the others around it. Why did nations from the other side of the world care about this? Why was it considered a good thing to stop Nazism, when that is the embodiment of successful ‘group selection’? Haidt simply assumes that everyone thinks that Nazism or fascism is ‘wrong’ (as he does), even though his own theory taken to its logical conclusion may suggest otherwise.

Our general reactions to the many true stories that have come out about World War II should give us a clue as to how important we perceive human kindness to be, especially when it is directed towards those outside the social group. German people who hid Jews from their own police and allowed them to escape are held up as heroes. Those who were in charge of death camps and treated all Jews (and others outside their ‘group’) as less than human are seen as heartless criminals. These reactions would make no sense at all if we all instinctively knew that group-based survival of the fittest is the key mechanism for human advancement, and the reason why we have a sense of morality in the first place. Yet this is what The Righteous Mind proposes as both the origin of morality and religion.

On the subject of religion, Haidt follows a path that other atheist writers follow by assuming that religion was born out of human superstitious tendencies, which somehow developed in humans but no other animal. However, where others (like Dawkins) claim that all religion is bad, and that it has become an uncontrollable virus that infects gullible minds and uses them to infect others, Haidt takes a different view. He sees religion as one of the reasons why group selection works on humans, and no other animals.

One of the key problems for group selection in animals is that of ‘free-riding’ or cheating – where some animals don’t reciprocate the favours they get from other group members, thus minimizing their personal costs whilst maximizing their benefits from group living. If this strategy is successful, then animals that cheat the system are more likely to contribute their cheating genes to the next generation, and ultimately the group will fail. Consequently, to prevent cheating one must have social rules, and those in the group must be able to identify who the trustworthy members of the group are. Whilst animals find this difficult to do, people use religion and/or political groupings for this purpose, according to Haidt. In the case of religion, the rules, which appear arbitrary to outsiders, are legitimised by a higher power. As most people have a tendency to believe in a higher power and/or a greater purpose, religious systems have developed to fully capitalize on that basic human tendency. Whilst the New Atheists militate against all forms of religion, and see themselves as ‘doctors’ for healing deluded religious people, Haidt reckons that religion has a social purpose, similar to that of politics.

I agree with Haidt that religion is frequently used as a means of promoting social cohesion within specific groups of people, and it is often linked with political goals. Those in power understand that their power is shored up if they can legitimise it by claiming the backing of some supernatural power. This is why religion has frequently been used as a means of motivating troops to fight down through the ages. The Roman Empire had a keen understanding of the importance of religious fervour, and often linked this with its political goals (first with paganism, and then with a paganised version of Christianity). Mohammed used Islam as a rallying point for his conquests. The list of religious-political links is endless, particularly if you include small tribes using their chosen gods or ancestors to support inter-tribal battles around the world throughout history. Due to this mountain of evidence showing people wielding political power through appealing to some supernatural power, it seems that Haidt’s theory of the origin of religion is on firm ground. That is, until it meets the Bible.

The Bible provides another story about the origin of religion, which I believe fits the available facts better than the theory proposed in The Righteous Mind. Either theory must face reality, which poses the following fundamental questions: Why are humans so different from animals that simple theories based on biology don’t work for us? Why does self-sacrificial altruism, especially towards those outside of one’s social group, occur at all in humans? Why do we admire selfless acts, whilst we detest acts of pure selfishness? Why do we have a yearning for a purpose or a meaning in life? Why do so many people, living in different times and places, feel driven to worship some kind of higher power?

Here are some of the Bible’s answers. We are different from animals because we are the only creatures God made in His image (Gen. 1:26), and the only ones to whom He gave moral commands (the first of which was in the Garden of Eden, Gen. 2:16-17). In contrast, the animals were told only to be fruitful and multiply (Gen. 1:22), and they continue to live by that simple rule to this day, albeit in a broken and cruel world (Rom. 8:22). The brokenness of the world came from mankind’s disobedience to the first moral command (Rom. 5:12-21).

Since that time, humans have lived with a deep pain of separation from what we know is our ultimate purpose, yet feel we are unable to fulfil it (Rom. 1:18-25). The common desire to worship something other than ourselves also harks back to a time when we knew this was very much a part of our ultimate purpose in life (Acts 17:22-34). We have a deeply ingrained knowledge of good and evil (Gen. 2:17), and when we recognise the good in others we feel joy and admiration, whilst seeing the evil in others fills us with pain and sorrow. However, the broken state of our moral compass means that ideas of good and evil can be badly twisted (Isaiah 5:20), which necessitates an objective moral standard and one impartial Judge to provide the final definition good and evil (Job 37:23-24).

It is as though we have smashed a beautiful vase, and every now and then we see some of its original beauty when we put a few pieces back together again. Current human morality and religion is merely an attempt to glue the hopelessly broken vase back together, even though our best efforts will not make the vase truly whole again. Our efforts may make us feel a bit better, like when we find some sort of purpose for life, or develop loving relationships, or perform some act of kindness for someone less fortunate than ourselves. But ultimately, the vase is still broken, and we are reminded of this fact whenever we come into contact with the cruel, broken world around us and within us.

Part of the purpose of Jonathan Haidt’s book was to satisfy his own need for meaning and purpose, and in a previous book (called The Happiness Hypothesis) he was looking for the related concept of happiness. What he says at the end of The Righteous Mind reveals something interesting about his personal search. “When I began writing The Happiness Hypothesis, I believed that happiness came from within, as Buddha and the Stoic philosophers said thousands of years ago. You’ll never make the world conform to your wishes, so focus on changing yourself and your desires. But by the time I finished writing, I had changed my mind: Happiness comes from between. It comes from getting the right relationships between yourself and others, yourself and your work, and yourself and something larger than yourself.”

He could have shortened his search greatly if he had started with the Bible, where God commands that we love Him first (i.e. our higher purpose), and then love others (Mark 12:29-31). The type of love that He modelled for us to follow is the essence of self-sacrifice, even loving those who hate us (Matt. 5:44-45; Rom. 5:6-11). This goes far beyond the ideas of within-group altruism that Haidt sees as part of human morality. Indeed, Jesus Christ and the early church demonstrate the very opposite origin of a ‘religion’ to Haidt’s theory.

Christ Himself never used the large following He gathered for political purposes (John 18:36). Those who followed Him after His resurrection were politically impotent, and had to accept the status of social pariahs – not Jewish enough for the Jews, and not philosophical enough for the Greeks (1 Cor. 1:22-25). The leaders of this new movement were frequently persecuted and lived painful lives for the sake of the gospel (2 Cor. 11:23-28), and they told the first churches they planted to expect similar treatment (Phil. 1:29-30). Instead of this new movement rising up in rebellion to their poor treatment, using their religion-based social cohesion as a weapon against their enemies, they were explicitly taught: “love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you” (Matt. 5:44).

The early church consisted of a host of different races (Jews, Greeks, and others, including Africans, Acts 13:1), with different social statuses (slaves and freedmen, Roman citizens, Jewish leaders 1 Cor. 12:13), and the early church struggles were all about learning to deal with these differences (Gal. 3:28). Meanwhile, their public conversions from previous religions and cultures made them instant social pariahs. In short, the church was made of social outcasts with no political power, who built their hope entirely on a kingdom that is not of this world (John 18:36).

If religion is all about forming a politically influential, socially powerful in-group, then this is a good argument for not defining true Christianity as a religion! If you are part of a church because it is a nice social gathering, or because your identity as Christian provides a nice platform for your political views, then please check the authenticity of your faith (read this).

Finally, I must contrast what moral psychology offers in terms of meaning and purpose to what God offers. If you have followed the arguments above, I hope you will see the many logical inconsistencies with Jonathan Haidt’s views, which are mostly caused by his firm adherence to atheistic beliefs, rather than his scientific findings. The latter tend to point towards what the Bible says about human nature and morality. The reason for this is quite simple: because God made us, and watched as we destroyed His creation through sin, then He is the only One who actually knows how to fix what we have broken. Good science merely uncovers aspects of what God already knows, some of which He has already revealed to us in His Word.

If the Bible does indeed have all the answers to life’s deepest questions, then why do Christians run to psychology whenever they encounter difficulties in life? God's guidance for how we should live is not arbitrary, but it is meant for our good – as demonstrated by His command to love being the answer to our quest for happiness. He made us, and He knows what will bring us the greatest sense of purpose and joy. Furthermore, by loving Him and obeying Him, He will start to change us in ways that we cannot possibly change ourselves, thus further bringing us into His joy. Psychology is part of man’s attempt to glue our smashed vase back together; only God can replace it with a new, whole vase. Can we not say, with Peter: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”