Welcome to the EvoS Consortium!

I

There is something discomfiting about our society’s constant moral admonitions that we should be happy. The world is not always a benevolent place. And our lives are not always filled with joy. It is vexing to pretend perpetually that “all is for the best.” Such an optimistic attitude is intellectually fatiguing. It requires denying or actively ignoring what we all know: that tragedies are common place and ubiquitous. Every day, innocent children die from illnesses, anguished men and women kill their friends and lovers, and tortured men and women eagerly consume substances to numb pain. On a more mundane level, our day to day existence is often fraught with pain, suffering, and boredom. We hanker after something. We obtain it. We are happy for a day or two. Then we are sick of it and desire something else. In between these desires, these eruptions of our will, we are bored, anxious, or irritated.

Darwin’s theory of natural selection provides an intellectual reason for this sometimes miserable state of affairs. Influenced by Thomas Malthus’s analysis of population growth, Darwin recognized that more offspring are born to organisms than can possibly survive. These offspring vary in traits, some of which immediately affect their prospects for survival. For example, some birds can fly more adroitly and more quickly than others, allowing them to escape from predators. These traits are passed on to future generations. The result of this process is evolution by natural selection. We should pause for moment to reflect on just how disturbing evolution by natural selection really is. Its central premise is that by winnowing out different variations of traits—i.e., by “killing” the organisms that manifest them—nature selects “fitter” organisms. Humans are a late arrival on this planet, and the amount of waste and death that led to them is astonishing and must disturb the conscience of any decent person. There is, to put it succinctly, a surfeit of suffering on this planet. And we, like other animals, are engaged in a perpetual battle. Our battle might be more subtle, more sophisticated, and more “civilized’ than that of other nonhuman animals, but it is a battle nevertheless. (And, in fact, it might be noted that often we are quite a bit more savage than other nonhuman animals).

Despite this, many intellectuals of the past and present have persisted in propounding philosophies of optimism, insouciantly explaining away misery and suffering as aberrations or privations. Although this tendency was temporarily thwarted by World War II (which made “absurdism” popular), it still thrives in American popular culture (see, for example, Ehrenreich, 2009). For many, happiness is a moral good and being unhappy is immoral. People whisper about so and so and how he or she isn’t happy, as if his or her unhappiness were a contagious illness. I am not just talking about shunning a complainer, a person who constantly rails against every inconvenience as if the universe were conspiring against him or her; I am talking about shunning those who, for whatever reason, fail to see that the universe is a beneficent place and fail to deny the reality of suffering that surrounds them.

II

By all accounts, Arthur Schopenhauer was a morose, obstinate, and irascible man. He was prickly, convinced of his own genius, and intolerant of other thinkers who arrived at different conclusions from his. Hegel, Fichte, Schelling (great German philosophers all), he dismissed as quacks and mountebanks. He penned a pessimistic philosophy that was riddled with inconsistencies and obvious sophistries. And yet, there is something refreshing about that philosophy, something compelling and vital and solacing about it. Schopenhauer maintained that the universe is metaphysically evil. The tragedies, dashed desires, and thwarted hopes we witness around us are not accidents; they are the fundamental thread that holds together the tattered tapestry of existence. Each individual misfortune, to be sure, is an accident. But misfortune in general is the rule.

According to Schopenhauer, the universe is composed of one fundamental “thing” and the sundry objects that we perceive are composed of variations of that “thing.” Trees, plants, rocks, stars are really just manifestations of the one “true” reality (Schopenhauer, 1969). This may sound strange. Why assert that the variegated parade of empirical phenomena in the world is really one? Why not just consent to the senses and accept that the world is comprised of many things, all equally real? An answer to this perfectly sensible question would require multiple paragraphs. However, it is worth noting that this is not so strange as it sounds. Philosophers and scientists have engaged in similar speculations since the dawn of reflective thought. Today, we accept that everything we interact with is composed of microscopic particles, and that these particles, in some sense, are the fundamental reality of the universe. Schopenhauer’s assertion that the universe is one is not absurd, even if it is wrong.

But what is this fundamental “thing” of which the universe is composed? According to Schopenhauer, we can directly ascertain the reality of the universe through our own experience of our mind. There is, first, the external world. However, Schopenhauer, following Berkeley and Kant, believed that the external world is a creation of our mind—or is, at any rate, quite different from what we perceive; therefore, it is not ultimately real. And there is, second, the internal world—the will. This, according to Schopenhauer, supplies us direct knowledge of the underlying nature of reality. The universe is will—blind, struggling, ceaseless will. This will’s only goal is to perpetuate itself. This one unremitting need is felt inside each of our breasts and gives rise to the unceasing misery of the universe. We are ephemera; the will is eternal.

Schopenhauer believed that his insight justified a bleak outlook. And what a bleak outlook his was! “If the immediate purpose of our life is not suffering then our existence is the most ill-adapted to its purpose in the world…” (Schopenhauer, 2004, p. 41). For Schopenhauer, life was an unceasing struggle of man against world and against fellow man: “..the life of an individual is a constant struggle, and not merely a metaphorical one against want or boredom, but also an actual struggle against other people” (Schopenhauer, 2004, p. 42). We can succor ourselves by observing the misfortunes of other, but what does this say about the horrible state of the world: “The most effective consolation in every misfortune and every affliction is to observe others who are more unfortunate than we: and everyone can do this. But what does this say for the condition as a whole?” (Schopenhauer, 2004, p. 42).

III

Put aside Schopenhauer’s somewhat preposterous metaphysics for a moment and the reader will note that his theory is quite similar to Darwin’s. Schopenhauer emphasized that individual organisms were not important in the grand scheme of life. What was important, from his perspective, was the underlying substrate, the will. From Darwin’s point of view, organisms were not important. What was important was the underlying substrate of inheritance—which Darwin eventually called “gemmules.” Today, we would say that what is important is the gene, which is the unit of replication (Dawkins, 1976). Schopenhauer used his insight that individual organisms were irrelevant to explain the power of sexual love (Schopenhauer, 1969; see also an online version: http://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/s/schopenhauer/arthur/essays/chapter10.html). Love is not a trifle, an insignificant decoration that adorns our lives; it is, rather, the force through which the will propagates another generation of humans. And this means that love does not give a fig for our happiness—ít only cares about the propagation of life. This, in turn, means that marriages are doomed to misery. All that matters is that reproduction has occurred. The happiness of the two participants is irrelevant.

Schopenhauer, then, viewed life as a tragic manifestation of the will. He was an inveterate pessimist, and he penned a philosophy that justified his pessimism. Behind the stars that speckle the sky and the flowers that decorate our earth, behind everything that seems good and beautiful, there is the ugliness and stupidity of the will. As Will Durant put it while describing Schopenhauer’s philosophy, “The total picture of life is almost too painful for contemplation; life depends on our not knowing it too well” (Durant, 1961, p. 424). Schopenhauer did, however, believe that man could attain some form of salvation through will-less contemplation of the universe; and he did forward a profoundly moving picture of morality as driven by empathy for our fellow sufferers. He was sensitive to the plight of animals and hurled obloquies at slave owners in North America: “…whatever the reader…may have heard or imagined or dreamed of the unhappy condition of the slaves, indeed of human harshness and cruelty in general, will fade into insignificance when he reads how these devils in human form, these bigoted, church-going, Sabbath-keeping scoundrels, especially the Anglican parsons among them, treat their innocent black brothers…”  (Schopenhauer, 2004, p, 138).

To Schopenhauer, optimism was a form of callousness, an insult to the misfortunes of humanity.

IV

The powerful pessimism that permeates Schopenhauer’s philosophy might be alarming, but it is also appealing. As Durant put it, “..there is about this philosophy a blunt honesty by the side of which most optimistic creeds appear soporific hypocrisies” (Durant, 1961, p. 455). Schopenhauer informs us that all might not be for the best and that it is intellectually dishonest, perhaps even mean spirited, to suggest otherwise. Furthermore, Schopenhauer’s philosophy, if stripped of its metaphysics, resembles modern Darwinism enough to be useful to the contemporary researcher. I turn to his work often, and I find that I am rewarded with novel insights.

And what of those who deny that his pessimism is charming? It is worth noting that in his single-minded insistence on drawing attention the bleak and dreary in our world, Schopenhauer left out much that is joyous and worth celebrating. Every day, millions of humans sacrifice themselves for some noble ideal, rescue wounded animals, give charity to their fellow humans, create lasting works of art, fall in love, create new friendships, birth new children, laugh, sing, dance. Even war, terrible though it may be, compels sacrifice and aid. I have been critical of the facile optimism that some promote, but a realistic tally of the goods and evils of life does not require despair. Persistent pessimism is just as false as obstinate optimism. Schopenhauer himself loved to practice his flute, had many sexual liaisons, walked two hours a day, and penned many essays. I suspect that he secretly greeted every morning’s sun with a smile.

 References

Dawkins, R. (1976). The selfish gene. New York: Oxford University Press.

Durant, W. (1961). The story of philosophy. New York: Simon and Schuster.

Ehrenreich, B. (2009). Bright-sided: How the relentless promotion of positive thinking has            undermined America. New York: Henry Holt and Company.

Schopenhauer, A. (1969). The world as will and representation. New York: Dover Publications

Schopenhauer, A. (2004). Essays and aphorisms. New York: Penguin Books.

Fair warning, this post won’t be about evolutionary clinical psychology per se, but a bit about how a functional, evolutionary perspective can inform technological solutions for better living!

Most of us take our binaural hearing for granted. Having two working ears helps us locate the direction which sound is coming from — our brain quickly does the math when, say, a sound on our left side hits our left ear slightly before it reaches our right ear. People who are deaf in one ear can’t easily localize sounds, and they have trouble keeping up in large group conversations, where the words can come fast and from any direction.

And then there’s another troubling but underappreciated problem that comes with single-sided deafness (SSD): not being able to listen to music properly through headphones. Since most modern sound recordings are split into stereo, with half the sound coming through the left channel and half through the right — and since the sounds are usually distributed differently between the left and right channels for various aesthetic purposes — if you listen to music through headphones, but have impaired hearing in one ear (as do between 8 and 9% of Americans), you’re missing half the sonic picture.

The stereo mixes of 60′s rock (e.g., “I Saw Her Standing There” by the Beatles) often pushed the vocals or drums entirely into one of the two channels, so unilaterally deaf listeners completely miss them, and may think that, say, “Purple Haze” by Jimi Hendrix is an instrumental. When the sound pans back and forth between two channels (e.g., the middle of Led Zeppelin’s “What Is and What Should Never Be”), it makes it sound like the sound is swooping through your head…unless you have SSD, in which case it sounds like the sound is cutting in and out. Tunes like “Long Distance Runaroud” by Yes utilize a different instrument — in this case, a lead guitar — in each channel, creating a sweet double-icious effect thru headphones…again, unless you have SSD.

Short of hearing-aids or procedures to correct or circumvent the hearing loss (which admittedly can make a huge difference!) existing solutions to this problem all involve collapsing the two channels into a single mono channel and listening one-sided through your good ear. So all the sound that most people normally hear through headphones, which sounds like it’s coming from between your ears, will be squished into a tiny space on one side or another. You can’t contain Led Zeppelin in a single tiny speaker! There’s no stereo space, the frequencies can interfere and make the sound crummy, and there’s no panning at all, since all the sound is coming from the same place!

That’s why my team and I have developed the Yuni, a headphone which allows true stereo sound through a single earpiece. The inspiration came one day while sitting in an evolution class and thinking about the evolved, functional design of the ear…in addition to our binaural hearing allowing us localize sound in horizontal space, the shape of the outer ear funnels the sound into our head in a way that facilitates vertical sound localization in space. Why, I thought, couldn’t a headphone be designed that puts one speaker above the ear and another speaker below it, allowing users with SSD to experience stereo sound in an analogous fashion to the way it’s normally done?

With some help from my engineer friend Mishah and an awesome 3d printing studio [carrythewhat?] replications, I was able to create a functioning prototype of a headphone that does exactly that. Having two separate speakers on a single ear allows you to discriminate between the two channels, detect when the sound pans back and forth (impossible until now through any existing single-sided headphone solution!), and hear your music with true stereo space, with no frequency interference, instead of crammed into a single tiny speaker. The difference is noticeable!

The Yuni is also good for listeners with normal hearing who want to listen to music with a single ear while keeping the other ear open to hear their surroundings. Studio musicians could use it to lay vocal tracks, so they can monitor their own voice with their free ear while listening to the stereo mix (in real stereo!) in the other.

It’s such a simple idea that I was initially tentative to build it and apply for a patent (although I have done so)…shouldn’t somebody else have already marketed this product? If not, then why not? I believe that an evolutionary, functional perspective of human hearing is the key to coming up with the simple notion of placing speakers vertically to make use of our ear’s natural ability to differentiate sounds that are above us and below us…yet another example of how evolutionary thinking can inform technology and better our quality of life.

We are currently wrapping up a Kickstarter campaign to help us get the Yuni to the tens of millions of people worldwide who have unilateral hearing loss. Also, find us on Facebook here.

This post was co-authored with Jessica Fell Williams who is an MA student in Psychology at SUNY New Paltz and a member of the Evolutionary Psychology Lab. This is cross-posted at the Psychology Today blogs and at the blogroll for Oxford University Press.

On the 14^th of April, single Koreans will signal their singleness by wearing, eating, and experiencing “black” as a statement on the nature of being single.

From the perspective of mating intelligence, following mating-relevant customs that are specific to one’s culture is crucial in mating. Knowing the rules and showing others that you can play by these rules is a signal to others that you have your stuff together. On this day in South Korea the rules are as follows: if you’re single, you’re to publicly display this fact by eating, wearing, and experiencing black. Doing so shows that you know what the rules are and that you’re willing and able to play by them. Ultimately, such a signal is attractive to potential mates and such signaling may, ironically, be a key to attracting mates on Black Day.

From an evolutionary perspective, the nature of pairbonding is ultimately rooted in the costs associated with parenting that typify our species. According to Trivers’ parental investment theory, in species that have relatively altricial (helpless at birth) offspring, mating systems favor pairbonding to help bring multiple adult helpers to assist with the raising of young. And humans fit this model in spades. Pair-bonding, a form of reciprocal attachment, is observed among humans in romantic relationships across cultures and social structures. Although the norms found vary quite a bit across cultures, most cultures have some sort of institutionalized guidelines on pair-bonding (often overlaying with marriage in an extended pair-bond situation).

Many modern cultures now experience (and socially accept) higher rates of single parenting and individuals marrying later in life. However, evolutionarily speaking, being shut out of the mating game, or in the case of a female, waiting too long, is a dead end for reproductive success. As such, it makes sense that cultural norms would address the issue of being single (as cultural norms often pertain to evolutionarily important issues such as mating, parenting, how to treat others, and so forth). At the very core of the matter is what many consider to be the ideal: reciprocal attachment, or pair-bonding, and the stigma associated with a lack thereof. Thus, it may be possible to infer that cultural norms aimed at recognizing “singleness” actually help develop signals that assist individuals in engaging in mate-seeking strategies.

Black Day seems to be a culturally specific way to acknowledge this issue of being single. Not only to support those who are unattached, but also to call attention to “singleness,” which ultimately can help people plan for mating-relevant aspects of their future. Outwardly, the process of commiserating with other singles may appear to be a way of establishing a similar in-group experience as those who have found themselves in relationships. But it also has the possibility of being more. Events designed by and for singles may help these singles “signal” to other unattached individuals that they are ready, willing, and able to invest in pair-bonding behavior.

Like the peacock that displays his plumage for potential mates despite the risk of being quickly eaten by predators, single people unite during holidays such as Black Day to display their wares in hopes of finding a kindred soul. By outwardly participating in the rituals of the celebration, they potentially place themselves at risk of being scorned by the elite group of those who are attached, but the potential to reap the evolutionary benefits may outweigh the costs. Effectively navigating such decisions is a crucial part of human mating intelligence.

In South Korea, donning all black clothing and going out to share the traditional comfort-food meal of noodles and black bean sauce could provide just the opportunity for single people to connect with others in the same position. These culturally specific customs provide an occasion for individuals to seek out and evaluate potential mates by engaging in a variety of evolutionarily based mating displays. In fact, in the absence of issues of mate-guarding, and potentially reduced intrasexual competition, singles on Black Day may have an even better chance at spending the next 14 April on the other side of the relationship fence.

References

Geher, G., & Kaufman, S. B. (2013). Mating intelligence unleashed: The role of the mind in sex, dating, and love. New York: Oxford University Press.

Trivers,R. (1972). Parental investment and sexual selection. In B. Campbell (Ed.), Sexual selection and the descent of man: 1871. Chicago: Aldine.

Evolutionary Studies Seminar (EVO 301; instructor is Glenn Geher) and Evolution and Human Health (EVO 201; instructor is Hamilton Stapell) will be offered in a fully online format this summer (along with several other courses that comprise New Paltz’s unique (and NSF-award winning) EvoS Program.

These undergraduate courses are foundational in our academic program (i.e., New Paltz’s 18-credit EvoS Minor) and they serve a basic function in providing students with (a) a deep and broad introduction to this field of academic inquiry along with (b) a focused course on the science of evolution as it sheds light on issues of health, nutrition, and fitness. These courses are unique, and awesome, and you should take them!

Note that the full EvoS minor is 18 credits; these courses are each 3 credits (so the two courses in combination would comprise 6 of 18 required credits for the minor).

These courses are open to both SUNY New Paltz students AND TO OTHERS who are outside the New Paltz community (the courses are online and no in-person or on-campus contact is required). SUNY New Paltz’s office of Summer and offices of Financial Aid and the office of Records and Registration can address important questions related to these classes. Or you may contact the program director, Glenn Geher (geherg@newpaltz.edu).

For more information on how to register, who to contact for books, etc., please see site for the summer session here: http://www.newpaltz.edu/summer/

Registration site for Summer 2013 is found here.

Happy Registering!

Genuinely, Glenn Geher, Director, EvoS New Paltz (geherg@newpaltz.edu)

“There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it.”

Oscar Wilde

In Mike Cahill’s idiosyncratic and charming indie film King of California, a mentally troubled man with a history of quixotic quests and implausible dreams attempts to discover an ancient treasure that he believes was buried by a Spanish renegade. This pursuit costs him peace and soundness of mind, but it animates him, impels him on an absurd mission with vigor and excitement. In the end, he sacrifices his life for what he believes is the gold. (The audience is never shown if he actually found the gold, and I suppose that the director’s point is that it doesn’t matter if he did). The “absurd quest” is a common theme in literature, made most famous, perhaps, by the morose and maniacal Captain Ahab, who spitefully chases the white whale Moby Dick across the sea, finally destroying himself, his ship, and his crew (save for the narrator of the novel, who survived for obvious reasons) in a final confrontation. (Ahab was killed by his own harpoon, which is symbolically appropriate).

Although these quests are more grandiose—perhaps sublime—in art, they are familiar in everyday life. Most of us are pursuing something that requires us to sacrifice temporary comfort or opportunity. As I touched upon in an earlier blog about affective forecasting, part of the reason for such quests is a cognitive bias that exaggerates the impact of future events. That is, our brains are designed to believe that prospective events, both good and bad, will have a larger impact on our emotions than they actually do (Wilson & Gilbert, 2003; 2005). Captain Ahab was monomaniacally obsessed with the white whale because he thought his extermination of it would bring lasting satisfaction. Similarly, we are obsessed with that next publication, that fancy sports car, that upcoming tenure meeting, because we exaggerate their positive effects on our life. The truth is, once we obtain what we desire, we become bored or acclimated to it and swiftly discover something else to covet. From the perspective of a hypothetical Martian, we might appear similar to proverbial moths attracted to a fatal flame. (I am thankful, however, that our apparent stupidity can spur the writing of brilliant literature). But perhaps this “deluded” passion is positive?

In an excellent article on human biases, Haselton and Nettle (2006) argued that we are “paranoid optimists.” That is, we are excessively paranoid about possible dangers, but equally assured that the future will be better than the past—that our lives are improving. We are also prone to slight discontent, which is counteracted by high expectations for future gains. Many philosophers have lamented this folly, this need to constantly flit from pleasure to pleasure and concomitant inability to enjoy what we currently possess, but from an evolutionary perspective, this propensity is entirely sensible. Contentment breeds indolence. Why strive for a promotion, a publication, a mate, when you are already satisfied? Only the subtle stirrings of craving, the perception of lacking something, impel action. And action, in the currency of genetic propagation, is often better than inaction. However, from an existential perspective, this proclivity does present a problem: complete contemporary satisfaction is difficult to achieve. Furthermore, what satisfaction we do achieve is sometimes imperiled by a reckless desire for more (more sexual encounters, more money, more…). Thus the painful veracity of Oscar Wilde’s clever quip.

I think the solution to this problem requires two steps: 1) understand when such desires are deleterious and when they are advantageous and 2) attach yourself to a goal that cannot be completely satisfied. The first is not always easy, and it is difficult to inoculate one’s self from the tempting power of anticipated bliss. For example, many marriages are destroyed because one of the partners was allured by the expected ecstasy of an extramarital affair. In cases of such commitment, it is probably good to recognize that alternatives seldom supply as much joy in the flesh as they might in the mind. The same holds for most material goods. Despite our belief that that next upgrade in houses is going to make us happy forever, research indicates that beyond a certain level (roughtly 70,000 dollars), disposable income and material goods do not provide lasting satisfaction. The second is easier, although it is sometimes difficult to discover a powerful passion to pursue. I prefer to pursue rather abstract goals such as “becoming the best scientist I can be,” since 1) I will never achieve them and 2) I am not sure what it would even mean to achieve them and 3) it makes my goals less about others and more about myself. Certainly, I have to judge my scientific ideas and output by external standards, but my own capacity is something that is not dependent upon others.

And what about the passionate pursuits that drive men and women, like Captain Ahab, to the edge of sanity and often end in death? Despite my general disgust of the selfishness inherent in such a mad and solitary pursuit, I must confess that I find them somewhat inspiring. Some are not born for stillness. As much as I admire the Buddhists and the Stoics, I doubt that satisfaction with the present is something of which most humans are capable. Instead, most of us will live with one eye on the future, expecting that next conquest to calm the importunate cravings of our heart.

References

Haselton, M. G., & Nettle, D. (2006). The paranoid optimist: An integrative evolutionary model of cognitive biases. Personality and social psychology Review, 10, 47-66.

Wilson, T.D., & Gilbert, D.T. (2003). Affective forecasting. Advances in Experimental Social Psychology, 35, 345-411.

Wilson, T.D., & Gilbert, D.T. (2005). Affective forecasting: Knowing what to want. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 14, 131-134.