Altruism in the absence of heaven

It was about how a group of lifeguards training in a bay near the town of Whangarei, New Zealand, were protected by a pod of dolphins from a great white shark. Altogether, the incident lasted some 40 minutes -- a very long time indeed, if you were ever in such a situation -- until the lifeguards managed to get ashore. 

As you can see from the second news story on the right, dated 23 July 2002, this kind of altruistic behaviour by dolphins is not uncommon. 

Most people might have read the Whangarei story, found it interesting, and then put it aside. I couldn't. It kept rattling in me. 

We have no satisfactory explanation for inter-species altruism. For inter-human altruism, our understanding usually hinges on group identification and loyalty, investing in social capital, or earning merit for the afterlife, but all of these are based on some form of reward, even if not demanded as such. 

These same explanations, except maybe the afterlife one, also work for other intra-species altruism among social animals, e.g. chimpanzees, but it is very difficult to apply these reasons to inter-species behaviour, because we know of no social grouping that comprise multiple species. 

The nearest we have would be a human family and their pets. Rover the dog may behave altruistically to protect baby Jean from an over-nosy passer-by, but that's because Rover identifies with and is loyal to the family. Rover isn't going to protect any and every human infant he comes across. 

Going beyond social identification, humans also exhibit altruism for other species out of compassion. We save injured animals; we leave food for stray cats. But most of us think of compassion as a uniquely human quality. We even call it being "humane". 

We think that it requires a fairly well developed intelligence able to see the bigger picture, and a high degree of self-awareness, before we can transpose our feelings of hurt, loneliness and anguish onto others. That transposition generates within us a feeling of compassion for the other. 

Thus humans, who as far we know are the only species with this degree of intelligence and self-awareness, are the only ones capable of compassionate altruism (as opposed to social altruism), or so we thought. 

But clearly now, dolphins do it too. Which takes our specialness down another notch. 

Our ego already suffered quite considerably when researchers proved that the higher apes could manipulate symbols. For a long time we thought language distinguished humans from lesser forms of life; at the same time we were under the misconception that vocalisation was language. (Actually, it's remarkable how dumb we were, for throughout history, we've had hearing-impaired people, and these guys managed language quite well without needing to vocalise.) 

Anyway, at long last, we've realised that language was just a manipulation of symbols representing objects, actions, qualities or relationships and these symbols could be vocal, visual (script or graphics), even tactile (braille). 

When we finally began to think of language this way and stopped trying to teach chimpanzees to speak, some researchers started giving them symbols to point to while others taught them to sign with their hands. And lo and behold, they could construct simple sentences expressing their wants and their feelings. 

With that, the sharp divide between human and animal blurred. We can't anymore say that language uniquely defines us as a (far, far superior) form of life.

Now altruism has also been snatched away from us. 

* * * * * 

Time out. Time for more self-awareness. 

The first half of this article may make no sense at all to most humans on this planet. If you think that I was making sense, then you must have come with a Judeo-Christian perspective. 

The Judeo-Christian tradition makes a big deal about the human-animal divide. It is philosophically founded on the specialness of humans, made in the image of God, and that kind of thing. Thus the debunking of this uniqueness can be troubling. If you're the worldly type, it is merely noteworthy, but if you're one of the crazies, it is an intolerable challenge to the Creation story. 

Other religious traditions never made much of the distinction between human and animal. There were Monkey Kings and Monkey armies in the Indian epics. There is Garuda the eagle and Ganesha, half-human, half-elephant. 

Chinese Taoism taught that Man is an inseparable part of Nature, with much to be said for going with the flow while observing a moderating balance. 

Discovering evolution, learning that the apes can manage language and dolphins are altruistic cause hardly a ripple as these support rather than contradict their system of belief. 

* * * * * 

But, you know, all religions are egoistic in their own way and this is where the dolphin story comes in again. 

We are led to believe that humans need to be nourished in mind and spirit and our potential cultivated. Education, culture and religious instruction civilise us, otherwise we might be brutes. Heaven must be explained to us, that we may be motivated to be charitable to others, if not devout to the gods. Graciousness, sensibility, morality and yes, compassion, have to be taught. 

But if altruism is compassion in action, and if dolphins could demonstrate this without schooling, civilisation, culture, religion or heaven, but merely because somehow we living things are hardwired to behave this way, then are teachers, statesmen, artists and priests overrated? 

Wouldn't we humans still be altruistic even if there had been no heaven?

© Yawning Bread 

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