And then we may finally understand why apes care about nothing beyond ripe fruit and red rumps, while we are drawn to the stars.
CHAPTER 4
The Neurons That Shaped Civilization
Even when we are alone, how often do we think with pain and pleasure of what others think of us, or their imagined approbation or disapprobation; and this all follows from sympathy, a fundamental element of the social instincts.
—CHARLES DARWIN
A FISH KNOWS HOW TO SWIM THE INSTANT IT HATCHES, AND OFF it darts to fend for itself. When a duckling hatches, it can follow its mother over land and across the water within moments. Foals, still dripping with amniotic fluid, spend a few minutes bucking around to get the feel of their legs, then join the herd. Not so with humans. We come out limp and squalling and utterly dependent on round-the-clock care and supervision. We mature glacially, and do not approach anything resembling adult competence for many, many years. Obviously we must gain some very large advantage from this costly, not to mention risky up-front investment, and we do: It’s called culture.
In this chapter I explore how a specific class of brain cells, called mirror neurons, may have played a pivotal role in our becoming the one and only species that veritably lives and breathes culture. Culture consists of massive collections of complex skills and knowledge which are transferred from person to person through two core mediums, language and imitation. We would be nothing without our savant-like ability to imitate others. Accurate imitation, in turn, may depend on the uniquely human ability to “adopt another’s point of view”—both visually and metaphorically—and may have required a more sophisticated deployment of these neurons compared with how they are organized in the brains of monkeys. The ability to see the world from another person’s vantage point is also essential for constructing a mental model of another person’s complex thoughts and intentions in order to predict and manipulate his behavior. (“Sam thinks I don’t realize that Martha hurt him.”) This capacity, called theory of mind, is unique to humans. Finally, certain aspects of language itself—that vital medium of cultural transmission—was probably built at least partly on our facility for imitation.
Darwin’s theory of evolution is one of the most important scientific discoveries of all time. Unfortunately, however, the theory makes no provision for an afterlife. Consequently it has provoked more acrimonious debate than any other topic in science—so much so that some school districts in the United States have insisted on giving the “theory” of intelligent design (which is really just a fig leaf for creationism) equal status in textbooks. As has been pointed out repeatedly by the British scientist and social critic Richard Dawkins, this is little different from giving equal status to the idea that the sun goes around Earth. At the time evolutionary theory was proposed—long before the discovery of DNA and the molecular machinery of life, back when paleontology had just barely begun to piece together the fossil record—the gaps in our knowledge were sufficiently large to leave room for honest doubt. That point is long past, but that doesn’t mean we have solved the entire puzzle. It would be arrogant for a scientist to deny that there are still many important questions about the evolution of the human mind and brain that remain unanswered. At the top of my list would be the following:
1. The hominin brain reached nearly its present size, and perhaps even its present intellectual capacity, about 300,000 years ago. Yet many of the attributes we regard as uniquely human—such as toolmaking, fire building, art, music, and perhaps even full-blown language—appeared only much later, around 75,000 years ago. Why? What was the brain doing during that long incubation period? Why did it take so long for all this latent potential to blossom, and then why did it blossom so suddenly? Given that natural selection can only select expressed abilities, not latent ones, how did all this latent potential get built up in the first place? I shall call this “Wallace’s problem” after the Victorian naturalist Alfred Russel Wallace, who first proposed it when discussing the origins of language:
The lowest savages with the least copious vocabularies [have] the capacity of uttering a variety of distinct articulate sounds and of applying them to an almost infinite amount of modulation and inflection [which] is not in any way inferior to that of the higher [European] races. An instrument has been developed in advance of the needs of its possessor.
2. Crude Oldowan tools—made by just a few blows to a core stone to create an irregular edge—emerged 2.4 million years ago and were probably made by Homo habilis, whose brain size was halfway between that of chimps and modern humans. After another million years of evolutionary stasis, aesthetically pleasing symmetrical tools began to appear which reflected a standardization of production technique. These required switching from a hard hammer to a soft, perhaps wooden, hammer while the tool was being made, so as to ensure a smooth rather than a jagged, irregular edge. And lastly, the invention of stereotyped assembly-line tools—sophisticated symmetrical bifacial tools that were hafted to a handle—took place only two hundred thousand years ago. Why was the evolution of the human mind punctuated by these relatively sudden upheavals of technological change? What was the role of tool use in shaping human cognition?
3. Why was there a sudden explosion—what Jared Diamond, in his book Guns, Germs, and Steel, calls the “great leap”—in mental sophistication around sixty thousand years ago? This is when widespread cave art, clothing, and constructed dwellings appeared. Why did these advances come along only then, even though the brain had achieved its modern size almost a million years earlier? It’s the Wallace problem again.
4. Humans are often called the “Machiavellian primate,” referring to our ability to predict other people’s behavior and out-smart them. Why are we humans so good at reading one another’s intentions? Do we have a specialized brain module, or circuit, for generating a theory of other minds, as proposed by the British cognitive neuroscientists Nicholas Humphrey, Uta Frith, Marc Hauser, and Simon Baron-Cohen? Where is this circuit and when did it evolve? Is it present in some rudimentary form in monkeys and apes, and if so, what makes ours so much more sophisticated than theirs?
5. How did language evolve? Unlike many other human traits such as humor, art, dancing, and music, the survival value of language is obvious: It lets us communicate our thoughts and intentions. But the question of how such an extraordinary ability actually came into being has puzzled biologists, psychologists, and philosophers since at least Darwin’s time. One problem is that the human vocal apparatus is vastly more sophisticated than that of any other ape, but without the correspondingly sophisticated language areas in the human brain, such exquisite articulatory equipment alone would be useless. So how did these two mechanisms with so many elegant interlocking parts evolve in tandem? Following Darwin’s lead, I suggest that our vocal equipment and our remarkable ability to modulate our voice evolved mainly for producing emotional calls and musical sounds during courtship in early primates, including our hominin ancestors. Once that evolved, the brain—especially the left hemisphere—could start using it for language.