Book review: The Ape that Understood the Universe.

Book review: The Ape that Understood the Universe.

Reviewer: Patrick Vermeren

Steve Stewart-Williams, associate professor of evolutionary psychology at the University of Nottingham Malaysia Campus, originally published this book in 2018, though it has been reprinted in 2019.

In my book A Skeptic’s HR Dictionary, I made a plea for evolutionary psychology to be regarded as the much needed meta-theory for the psychological sciences. I argued that the field of psychology is far too scattered and that evolutionary psychology (EP) functions as the bridge between biology and the psychological sciences. I dedicated 55 concentrated pages to the topic, including a “Recommended further reading” section in which I referred to authors such as biologists Jerry Coyne, Richard Dawkins, and Robert Trivers, as well as psychologists David Buss, John Tooby, Leda Cosmides, Daniel Dennett, Robert Kurzban, Todd Shackelford, and Steven Pinker. I did not however mention Steve Stewart-Williams due to the simple fact that I had not yet read his book. I can now gladly add this book to my recommended further reading list with regard to EP, and I will explain the reasons why hereafter.

In contrast to handbooks such as David Buss’ Handbook of Evolutionary Psychology, this book is a relatively easy read for people who are not familiar with the EP framework. Moreover, it is extremely well-written and funny at times.

Stewart-Williams starts off with Darwin, of course, elegantly taking us through a number of competing hypotheses about evolution: is it about the survival of the species? Is it about the survival of the fittest? About the reproduction of the fittest? In the process he takes down a number of misconceptions such as group selection and patiently explains how natural selection operates at the level of individual genes.

“Everyone knows that men and women are different…. except social scientists” (p. 62).

The author is extremely effective at debunking myths about the idea that there are virtually no biological sex differences between the sexes and shows that the “nurture only” explanation for any existing differences has completely failed. The sex differences in humans are smaller than in many other species, including our cousins the chimpanzees and bonobos, but nevertheless they are present and not trivial. Sex differences are universal and look the same, regardless of culture. They manifest themselves in toy preference, play preference, differences in sexual jealousy, murder rates, the higher incidence of stepparents killing their stepchildren, the number of hours dedicated to childcare, and so on.

The way he explains certain ‘elementary’ mechanisms such as William Hamilton’s rule (kin selection theory) and Robert Trivers’ reciprocal altruism theory is truly of the highest pedagogical standard. These two theories largely suffice to explain why nature has favored altruism in humans: the first theory is on why we care more for our blood-relatives and the second on why our altruism towards strangers is motivated by cooperation “smeared across time.” Altruism explains friendship as well as long-term economic collaboration: I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine, even if at a much later point in time.

After discussing at length genetic evolution by natural selection, Stewart-Williams sets out to explain culture. Here his writing becomes somewhat more speculative as we have less data, but his logic and the matching of his reasoning to existing evidence is quite convincing. Culture, the author argues, is not only limited to humans. He explains how other great apes, but also monkeys, whales, and other species show clear signs of culture as well. He argues that natural selection not only operates on genes but also on culture (although he writes that our genes hold our culture on a leash, p. 238). He makes several critical notes on the idea of cultural group selection, positing that some cultures might have established rules that made them out-reproduce other groups (e.g. religions that prohibit birth control and stimulate the spread of genes). He then sets out to explain Richard Dawkins’ memetics: memes are units of culture that—just like genes—metaphorically are only interested in surviving and propagating themselves.

He makes a strong (but even more speculative) case for gene-meme coevolution. He argues that lactose tolerance is the result of selection pressure from the meme that created the habit of drinking cow’s or sheep’s milk as an adult, even if most humans were initially lactose intolerant (the true standard). Tolerance to lactose evolved in at least three different parts of the world at different times and with different mutations of the LCT regulatory gene (p. 270). Our capacity to digest starchy foods such as tubers, rice, and wheat, as well as our capacity to throw spears, might have been the result of selection pressures from new habits. The best example is probably the impact of humans who learned to cook their food. This created selection pressures (or lack thereof) that allowed us to develop smaller teeth, smaller mouths, and shorter guts, and at the same time a large, energy-consuming brain.

The only two sub-theories that I missed seeing in the book are the theory about our coalitional psychology (in-group versus out-group) and the Life History Theory. Coalition psychology surely offers a complementary explanation for why some memes proliferate in one group but not in another. In my opinion, shared memes can reinforce one’s in-group identity.

So if you are interested in our evolutionary past and would like to know how this still has a tremendous impact today, this is a book I can highly recommend!