David Haig’s From Darwin to Derrida: Selfish Genes, Social Selves and the Meanings of Life is probably not one of the most accessible books that I could close the year on—which is why I decided to make it my second last and not the last review of the year.
David Haig is an Australian biologist and current George Putnam Professor of Organismic and Evolutionary Biology at Harvard University. I first came across his work when reading up about genomic imprinting and maternal-fetal conflict. (These subjects are both worth checking out if you are not familiar with them.)
Haig is also an amateur philosopher of sorts and very well read. From Darwin to Derrida is a collection of his essays, which mostly relate back to how one can generate meaning from processes without purpose. Natural selection does not have an end goal in mind; but yet here we are, investigating the world around us and asking ‘How come? What for? Why?’
A degree of background knowledge in the biological sciences in general and genetics in particular may be helpful here; Haig spends a considerable amount of time discussing exactly what is meant by a gene, his own work on intra-genomic conflict, and the concept of a ‘strategic gene.’ The language used and the concepts covered here are not quite at the advanced level of most academic texts, but From Darwin to Derrida is still considerably denser than most pop-sci books I’ve read recently.
The earlier sections of the book discuss purposes and final causes—teleology. Scientists are often hesitant to address final causes because they reverse our usual understanding of causation. Also, especially in evolutionary biology, teleology has been be used to invoke a supernatural cause or a kind of theology—which is not seen as scientific. But an argument can be made that while evolution itself has no purpose or direction, it can produce purposeful beings that act meaningfully in their environments. And it’s under this framework we are asked to look at genes as both actors and records of past actions. All texts are interpreted in context—and what are genes but texts? Genetic changes are usually accidental, but through evolutionary processes (i.e., a variant that promotes survival) an accidental change can be retained; the through the duel lenses of both phenotype and environment, the DNA text is interpreted, then revised.
This is not a viewpoint you are asked to examine things from when you are first introduced to transmission genetics and evolution in a classroom setting, I can tell you that much.
Another discussion for the book I enjoyed concerned the breakdown of the metaphor of a single organism being a ‘giant, lumbering robot’ that just meanders around; pursuing the objectives of the genes its carries. As a man that has studied genetic conflict extensively, Haig points out that most machines don’t often experience inner tensions between their constitutive parts—but if you play around with the idea of the selfish gene a bit, your genes of course can. This is not just a biological conflict either; we frequently experience inner conflicts between our morals, philosophies and ideas as well.
The machine metaphor is not working quite so well now, right? Unless the bloody thing achieved sentience and had a crisis of consciousness of some sort. (I have been thinking of rereading Murderbot.)
And while Derrida is referenced in the book’s title, Haig actually doesn’t dip into his work that much. But it did surprise me a bit—I can say I’ve seen much French post modernism crop up much in relation to these kinds topics; for the most part, postmodernism tends to be given a wide berth. (The connection? Meaning in texts isn’t fixed; it’s always being rewritten. We all interpret texts differently… you get the idea.)
This was one of my more challenging reads of the past year; it’s ultimately very rewarding, but it was also very dense. And while I would’ve liked to have written a little more about it, I am coming up pretty fast against our end of year deadline.
(I will point out that the I listed to the audiobook version of this book, which was narrated very well. However, it was initially a little disorienting, because I’ve seen Haig talk and I know what his voice sounds like—nope, turns out, he doesn’t narrate his own book. That’s Peter Nobel instead)