'The Selfish Gene' by Richard Dawkins

This is one of the most widely-read and influential popular science books of recent decades, and because it was first published fifty years ago this month, I thought perhaps that I should get finally round to reading it. I read the 'fortieth anniversary edition' that was published in 2016 and which contains a lot more material than the original 1976 edition and the subsequently expanded 1989 edition.

In the introduction, Richard Dawkins, explains that he is writing the book for three audiences; the layman, the expert and the student (who he defines as a layman who is looking to become an expert). It is quite some feat to satisfy such diverse groups, but by and large this book meets this objective I think.

Its importance therefore lies not just in the subject matter itself - which is thought-provoking and interesting throughout - but in its style and approach. This is a model for all academic specialists to follow when writing about their subjects for a wider audience. As very much a layman when it comes to zoology and evolutionary biology, I found that I was engaged pretty fully for over four hundred pages, and only lost my way very occasionally.

The essence of the argument Richard Dawkins makes is quite a simple one, but one that has profound implications for the way that we see the animal and plant worlds, and the way perhaps we should view ourselves. He explains how we should view evolution as 'gene centred' rather than 'organism-centred'. He argues that genes are the fundamental units of natural selection and organisms (very much including humans) - are best understood as vehicles or 'survival machines' built by genes to help them replicate.

This represents a post-war switch in perspective, altering the question we ask when studying natural selection. Instead of thinking primarily about how it benefits species or individuals, we should focus on how it benefits the genes that make organisms up and seek to replicate themselves through generations. Dawkins did not come up with this idea, but he has been a major figure in its development, and used 'The Selfish Gene' to explain it to a broad audience.

The book goes on to use this idea less to explain 'selfishness' as the title suggests, but more to explore altruism and co-operation both within and between different species. The idea of 'the survival of the fittest' is thus adapted considerably when we start viewing evolutionary biology from the perspective of the gene.

The scope is enormous, going from the way life is thought to have started originally, through to the complexities of human behaviour using game theory and 'the prisoner's dilemma' to explore co-operation within the human species. The book is full of fascinating examples from across the animal kingdom. I found the sections on ants and bees to be particularly interesting, but also the section on cuckoos and the other birds who bring them up in their nests.

The other feature of 'The Selfish Gene' that has been particularly influential is the more obviously original contribution Dawkins makes in developing the concept of 'the meme' which is a very human concept. Put simply, he proposes that cultural ideas, including songs, fashions and beliefs, spread in a way analogous to genes. A meme is a unit of cultural transmission that replicates through imitation. Here, of course, he is exploring the role of 'nurture' to add to his earlier discussion of 'nature' as an explanatory force when thinking about the evolution of complex human societies.

The book is written with terrific enthusiasm which is hard not to get caught up in. My only quibble, as a lot of people find with Richard Dawkins' writing, is the arrogant and dismissive tone he adopts when discussing matters of religion. He has, of course, every right to hold to an unapologetic atheist position in debates about metaphysical issues, but I really wish he could bring himself (a) to generalise less about 'faith' and (b) to avoid expressing himself in a manner which he must know people are going to find pretty offensive. He does seem to have something of a blind spot in this area, as the following passage demonstrates:

Faith cannot move mountains (though generations of children are solemnly told the contrary and believe it). But it is capable of driving people to such dangerous folly that faith seems to me to qualify as a kind of mental illness. It leads people to believe in whatever it is so strongly that in extreme cases they are prepared to kill and to die for it without the need for further justification. .... Faith is powerful enough to immunise people against all appeals to pity, to forgiveness, to decent human feelings. It even immunises them against fear, if they honestly believe that a martyr's death will send them straight to heaven. What a weapon! Religious faith deserves a chapter to itself in the annals of war technology, on an even footing with the longbow, the warhorse, the tank, and the hydrogen bomb.

That quibble aside, this was a really good and compelling read. I have no idea how absolutely accurate and uncontested the science is, or whether it may one day be superseded. There is quite a lot of conjecture included and he seems to me, at least in his discussion of human behaviour to downplay and really ignore, the way that genuine affection develops between people and which determines so much of what we do in practice. But I followed the arguments though with interest and happily learned a great deal about different animals during the journey.