The Selfish Gene
Consider the gene for being an albino in man. In fact several genes exist that can give rise to albinism, but I am talking about just one of them. It is recessive; that is, it has to be present in double dose in order for the person to be an albino. This is true of about 1 in 20,000 of us. But it is also present, in single dose, in about 1 in 70 of us, and these individuals are not albinos. Since it is distributed in many individuals, a gene such as the albino gene could, in theory, assist its own survival in the gene pool by programming its bodies to behave altruistically towards other albino bodies, since these are known to contain the same gene. The albino gene should be quite happy if some of the bodies that it inhabits die, provided that in doing so they help other bodies containing the same gene to survive. If the albino gene could make one of its bodies save the lives of 10 albino bodies, then even the death of the altruist is amply compensated by the increased numbers of albino genes in the gene pool.
Should we then expect albinos to be especially nice to each other? Actually the answer is probably no. In order to see why not, we must temporarily abandon our metaphor of the gene as a conscious agent, because in this context it becomes positively misleading. We must translate back into respectable, if more longwinded terms. Albino genes do not really 'want' to survive or to help other albino genes. But if the albino gene just happened to cause its bodies to behave altruistically towards other albinos, then automatically, willy-nilly, it would tend to become more numerous in the gene pool as a result. But, in order for this to happen, the gene would have to have two independent effects on bodies. Not only must it confer its usual effect of a very pale complexion. It must also confer a tendency to be selectively altruistic towards individuals with a very pale complexion. Such a double-effect gene could, if it existed, be very successful in the population.
Now it is true that genes do have multiple effects, as I emphasized in Chapter 3. It is theoretically possible that a gene could arise which conferred an externally visible 'label', say a pale skin, or a green beard, or anything conspicuous, and also a tendency to be specially nice to bearers of that conspicuous label. It is possible, but not particularly likely. Green beardedness is just as likely to be linked to a tendency to develop ingrowing toenails or any other trait, and a fondness for green beards is just as likely to go together with an inability to smell freesias. It is not very probable that one and the same gene would produce both the right label and the right sort of altruism. Nevertheless, what may be called the Green Beard Altruism Effect is a theoretical possibility.
An arbitrary label like a green beard is just one way in which a gene might 'recognize' copies of itself in other individuals. Are there any other ways? A particularly direct possible way is the following. The possessor of an altruistic gene might be recognized simply by the fact that he does altruistic acts. A gene could prosper in the gene pool if it 'said' the equivalent of: 'Body, if A is drowning as a result of trying to save someone else from drowning, jump in and rescue A.' The reason such a gene could do well is that there is a greater than average chance that A contains the same life-saving altruistic gene. The fact that A is seen to be trying to rescue somebody else is a label, equivalent to a green beard. It is less arbitrary than a green beard, but it still seems rather implausible. Are there any plausible ways in which genes might 'recognize' their copies in other individuals?
The answer is yes. It is easy to show that close relatives-kin-have a greater than average chance of sharing genes. It has long been clear that this must be why altruism by parents towards their young is so common. What R. A. Fisher, J. B. S. Haldane, and especially W. D. Hamilton realized, was that the same applies to other close relations-brothers and sisters, nephews and nieces, close cousins. If an individual dies in order to save ten close relatives, one copy of the kin-altruism gene may be lost, but a larger number of copies of the same gene is saved.
'A larger number' is a bit vague. So is 'close relatives'. We can do better than that, as Hamilton showed. His two papers of 1964 are among the most important contributions to social ethology ever written, and I have never been able to understand why they have been so neglected by ethologists (his name does not even appear in the index of two major text-books of ethology, both published in 1970). Fortunately there are recent signs of a revival of interest in his ideas. Hamilton's papers are rather mathematical, but it is easy to grasp the basic principles intuitively, without rigorous mathematics, though at the cost of some over-simplification. The thing we want to calculate is the probability, or odds, that two individuals, say two sisters, share a particular gene.
For simplicity I shall assume that we are talking about genes that are rare in the gene pool as a whole. Most people share 'the gene for not being an albino', whether they are related to each other or not. The reason this gene is so common is that in nature albinos are less likely to survive than non-albinos because, for example, the sun dazzles them and makes them relatively unlikely to see an approaching predator. We are not concerned with explaining the prevalence in the gene pool of such obviously 'good' genes as the gene for not being an albino. We are interested in explaining the success of genes specifically as a result of their altruism. We can therefore assume that, at least in the early stages of this process of evolution, these genes are rare. Now the important point is that even a gene that is rare in the population as a whole is common within a family. I contain a number of genes that are rare in the population as a whole, and you also contain genes that are rare in the population as a whole. The chance that we both contain the same rare genes is very small indeed. But the chances are good that my sister contains a particular rare gene that I contain, and the chances are equally good that your sister contains a rare gene in common with you. The odds are in this case exactly 50 per cent, and it is easy to explain why.
Suppose you contain one copy of the gene G. You must have received it either from your father or from your mother (for convenience we can neglect various infrequent possibilities-that G is a new mutation, that both your parents had it, or that either of your parents had two copies of it). Suppose it was your father who gave you the gene. Then every one of his ordinary body cells contained one copy of G. Now you will remember that when a man makes a sperm he doles out half his genes to it. There is therefore a 50 per cent chance that the sperm that begot your sister received the gene G. If, on the other hand, you received G from your mother, exactly parallel reasoning shows that half of her eggs must have contained G; once again, the chances are 50 per cent that your sister contains G. This means that if you had 100 brothers and sisters, approximately 50 of them would contain any particular rare gene that you contain. It also means that if you have 100 rare genes, approximately 50 of them are in the body of any one of your brothers or sisters.
You can do the same kind of calculation for any degree of kinship you like. An important relationship is that between parent and child. If you have one copy of gene H, the chance that any particular one of your children has it is 50 per cent, because half your sex cells contain H, and any particular child was made from one of those sex cells. If you have one copy of gene J, the chance that your father also had J is 50 per cent, because you received half your genes from him, and half from your mother. For convenience we use an index of relatedness, which expresses the chance of a gene being shared between two relatives. The relatedness between two brothers is 1/2, since half the genes possessed by one brother will be found in the other. This is an average figure: by the luck of the meiotic draw, it is possible for particular pairs of brothers to share more or fewer genes than this. The relatedness between parent and child is always exactly 1/2.
It is rather tedious going through the calculations from first principles every time, so here is a rough and ready rule for working out the relatedness between any two individuals A and B. You may find it useful in making your will, or in interpreting apparent resemblances in your own family. It works for all simple cases, but breaks down where incestuous mating occurs, and in certain insects, as we shal
l see.
First identify all the common ancestors of A and B. For instance, the common ancestors of a pair of first cousins are their shared grandfather and grandmother. Once you have found a common ancestor, it is of course logically true that all his ancestors are common to A and B as well. However, we ignore all but the most recent common ancestors. In this sense, first cousins have only two common ancestors. If B is a lineal descendant of A, for instance his great grandson, then A himself is the 'common ancestor' we are looking for.
Having located the common ancestor(s) of A and B, count the generation distance as follows. Starting at A, climb up the family tree until you hit a common ancestor, and then climb down again to B. The total number of steps up the tree and then down again is the generation distance. For instance, if A is B's uncle, the generation distance is 3. The common ancestor is A's father (say) and B's grandfather. Starting at A you have to climb up one generation in order to hit the common ancestor. Then to get down to B you have to descend two generations on the other side. Therefore the generation distance is 1 + 2 = 3.
Having found the generation distance between A and B via a particular common ancestor, calculate that part of their relatedness for which that ancestor is responsible. To do this, multiply 1/2 by itself once for each step of the generation distance. If the generation distance is 3, this means calculate 1/2 x 1/2 x 1/2. If the generation distance via a particular ancestor is equal to g steps, the portion of relatedness due to that ancestor is (1/2) to the power g.
But this is only part of the relatedness between A and B. If they have more than one common ancestor we have to add on the equivalent figure for each ancestor. It is usually the case that the generation distance is the same for all common ancestors of a pair of individuals. Therefore, having worked out the relatedness between A and B due to any one of the ancestors, all you have to do in practice is to multiply by the number of ancestors. First cousins, for instance, have two common ancestors, and the generation distance via each one is 4. Therefore their relatedness is 1/8.
If A is Bs greatgrandchild, the generation distance is 3 and the number of common 'ancestors' is 1 (B himself), so the relatedness is 1/8. Genetically speaking, your first cousin is equivalent to a great grandchild. Similarly, you are just as likely to 'take after' your uncle (relatedness = 1/4) as after your grandfather (relatedness = 1/4).
For relationships as distant as third cousin (1/128), we are getting down near the baseline probability that a particular gene possessed by A will be shared by any random individual taken from the population. A third cousin is not far from being equivalent to any old Tom, Dick, or Harry as far as an altruistic gene is concerned. A second cousin (relatedness = 1/32) is only a little bit special; a first cousin somewhat more so (1/8). Full brothers and sisters, and parents and children are very special (1/2), and identical twins (relatedness = 1) just as special as oneself. Uncles and aunts, nephews and nieces, grandparents and grandchildren, and half brothers and half sisters, are intermediate with a relatedness of 3.
Now we are in a position to talk about genes for kin-altruism much more precisely. A gene for suicidally saving five cousins would not become more numerous in the population, but a gene for saving five brothers or ten first cousins would. The minimum requirement for a suicidal altruistic gene to be successful is that it should save more than two siblings (or children or parents), or more than four half-siblings (or uncles, aunts, nephews, nieces, grandparents, grandchildren), or more than eight first cousins, etc. Such a gene, on average, tends to live on in the bodies of enough individuals saved by the altruist to compensate for the death of the altruist itself.
If an individual could be sure that a particular person was his identical twin, he should be exactly as concerned for his twin's welfare as for his own. Any gene for twin altruism is bound to be carried by both twins, therefore if one dies heroically to save the other the gene lives on. Nine-banded armadillos are born in a litter of identical quadruplets. As far as I know, no feats of heroic self-sacrifice have been reported for young armadillos, but it has been pointed out that some strong altruism is definitely to be expected, and it would be well worth somebody's while going out to South America to have a look.
We can now see that parental care is just a special case of kin altruism. Genetically speaking, an adult should devote just as much care and attention to its orphaned baby brother as it does to one of its own children. Its relatedness to both infants is exactly the same, 1/2. In gene selection terms, a gene for big sister altruistic behaviour should have just as good a chance of spreading through the population as a gene for parental altruism. In practice, this is an over-simplification for various reasons which we shall come to later, and brotherly or sisterly care is nothing like so common in nature as parental care. But the point I am making here is that there is nothing special genetically speaking about the parent/child relationship as against the brother/ sister relationship. The fact that parents actually hand on genes to children, but sisters do not hand on genes to each other is irrelevant, since the sisters both receive identical replicas of the same genes from the same parents.
Some people use the term kin selection to distinguish this kind of natural selection from group selection (the differential survival of groups) and individual selection (the differential survival of individuals). Kin selection accounts for within-family altruism; the closer the relationship, the stronger the selection. There is nothing wrong with this term, but unfortunately it may have to be abandoned because of recent gross misuses of it, which are likely to muddle and confuse biologists for years to come. E. O. Wilson, in his otherwise admirable Sociobiology: The New Synthesis, defines kin selection as a special case of group selection. He has a diagram which clearly shows that he thinks of it as intermediate between 'individual selection', and 'group selection' in the conventional sense-the sense that I used in Chapter 1. Now group selection-even by Wilson's own definition-means the differential survival of groups of individuals. There is, to be sure, a sense in which a family is a special kind of group. But the whole point of Hamilton's argument is that the distinction between family and non-family is not hard and fast, but a matter of mathematical probability. It is no part of Hamilton's theory that animals should behave altruistically towards all 'members of the family', and selfishly to everybody else. There are no definite lines to be drawn between family and non-family. We do not have to decide whether, say, second cousins should count as inside the family group or outside it: we simply expect that second cousins should be 1/16 as likely to receive altruism as offspring or siblings. Kin selection is emphatically not a special case of group selection. It is a special consequence of gene selection.
There is an even more serious shortcoming in Wilson's definition of kin selection. He deliberately excludes offspring: they don't count as kin! Now of course he knows perfectly well that offspring are kin to their parents, but he prefers not to invoke the theory of kin selection in order to explain altruistic care by parents of their own offspring. He is, of course, entitled to define a word however he likes, but this is a most confusing definition, and I hope that Wilson will change it in future editions of his justly influential book. Genetically speaking, parental care and brother/sister altruism evolve for exactly the same reason: in both cases there is a good chance that the altruistic gene is present in the body of the beneficiary.
I ask the general reader's indulgence for this little diatribe, and return hastily to the main story. So far, I have over-simplified somewhat, and it is now time to introduce some qualifications. I have talked in elemental terms of suicidal genes for saving the lives of particular numbers of kin of exactly known relatedness. Obviously, in real life, animals cannot be expected to count exactly how many relatives they are saving, nor to perform Hamilton's calculations in their heads even if they had some way of knowing exactly who their brothers and cousins were. In real life, certain suicide and absolute 'saving' of life must be replaced by statistical risks of death, one's own and other people's. Even
a third cousin may be worth saving, if the risk to yourself is very small. Then again, both you and the relative you are thinking of saving are going to die one day in any case. Every individual has an 'expectation of life' which an actuary could calculate with a certain probability of error. To save the life of a relative who is soon going to die of old age has less of an impact on the gene pool of the future than to save the life of an equally close relative who has the bulk of his life ahead of him.
Our neat symmetrical calculations of relatedness have to be modified by messy actuarial weightings. Grandparents and grandchildren have, genetically speaking, equal reason to behave altruistically to each other, since they share 1/4 of each other's genes. But if the grandchildren have the greater expectation of life, genes for grandparent to grandchild altruism have a higher selective advantage than genes for grandchild to grandparent altruism. It is quite possible for the net benefit of assisting a young distant relative to exceed the net benefit of assisting an old close relative. (Incidentally, it is not, of course, necessarily the case that grandparents have a shorter expectation of life than grandchildren. In species with a high infant-mortality rate, the reverse may be true.)
To extend the actuarial analogy, individuals can be thought of as life-insurance underwriters. An individual can be expected to invest or risk a certain proportion of his own assets in the life of another individual. He takes into account his relatedness to the other individual, and also whether the individual is a 'good risk' in terms of his life expectancy compared with the insurer's own. Strictly we should say 'reproduction expectancy' rather than 'life expectancy', or to be even more strict, 'general capacity to benefit own genes in the future expectancy'. Then in order for altruistic behaviour to evolve, the net risk to the altruist must be less than the net benefit to the recipient multiplied by the relatedness. Risks and benefits have to be calculated in the complex actuarial way I have outlined.