Evolution

My God...they're evolving!

I was reading Micheal Crichton's Jurassic Park sequel, The Lost World when I discovered it. By bringing dinosaurs out of pre-history, setting them down on a modern tropical island, and then suggesting that they were adapting to their new environment, Crichton confronted me with the amazing idea that the word "species" did not in fact denote a static thing, but rather something that flowed through time; something that evolved.

And by suggesting that, through this process, his already terrifying dinosaurs were becoming even more dangerous and cunning, Crichton successfully imbued the concept of evolution with a thrilling poignancy that immediately captured my imagination. The very next book I signed out of the library was The Origin of Species.

At the time I was sixteen, and I had just dropped put of school having concluded that I was wasting my time there. In retrospect - since my interest in evolution played a key role in my eventual return to the educational system - this seems more than a little ironic. But at the time, my discovery actually seemed to forcefully justify my decision to drop out of school. After all, why had I been left to languish in math, art, or "business education" classes, or been forced to read A Midsummer Nights Dream (for crying out loud), while ideas this cool remained unexplored and unmentioned? Why the hell wasn't I told about evolution in school ???

Even more disturbingly, I now know that I was not a unique case because I have met many people who badly misunderstand Darwin's theory. This is a grave tragedy: evolution by natural selection represents the single most important scientific discovery human beings have ever, or will ever make. I sincerely believe that in endeavoring to understand evolution, one becomes a better person; and that in attempting to effectively communicate it to others, one also makes the world a better place to live.

In this spirit, let me pose you a question: do you think you understand biological evolution? Here are the four most common evolution-based misconceptions that I encounter, and the reasons why they are just that. I bet you ten bucks that you've fallen for at least one of them.

Music

"The trills, chills, and tears we experience from music are the result of having our expectations artfully manipulated."

- Daniel J. Levitin, This is Your Brain on Music 

If you were to hear every note contained in a particular song played all at once, you wouldn't get much out of the experience: one of the most important aspects of music is that it presents us with a pattern that unfolds over time.

In doing so, music gives our brains the irresistible opportunity to second-guess how it will unfold. We do this based on clues we have gleaned from our experience with the tune thus far, as well as on our past experiences with music in general. And the music we tend to enjoy is that which we can anticipate with a reasonable degree of success. But while good music must not altogether defy our expectations, it is also essential that it pleasantly surprise us from time to time. As we all know, when a tune is too predictable, we become bored with it; in a way, good music is very much like an enjoyable game, in that it must be challenging, but not too challenging, to anticipate.

I think Mr. Levitin's perspective provides a good starting point from which to approach some music-related controversies. For instance:

• Do plants like music, too?
• And what about animals other than ourselves? 

Many, many people would have you believe that yes, and yes: they do. Are these people just over-anthropomorphizing? Or is their logic, in fact, sound?

Recycling

Nobody likes a cheat. But did you know that neither do monkeys, birds, and insects? For us organisms, the ability to protect ourselves against parasites is of prime importance - and that includes parasitic members of our own species. Many animals have responded to this threat by evolving an intrinsic capacity to both expertly detect, and instinctively resent, cheaters.

But humans have become especially good at this. So even if I preface my admission by first informing you that I don't own a vehicle; bring my backpack to the grocery store; stay away from over-packaged products; don't have a lawn; and have personally planted well over a million trees by hand; you are still likely to feel a twinge of annoyance when I tell you that I don't always recycle. This suggests that it's not so much my net impact on the environment that so bothers you, as it is the simple fact that I'm cheating.

But am I, really? After all, I need look no further than Wikipedia to see that there are innumerable controversies surrounding the practice. Micheal Moore, with his book Stupid White Men, made me suspect that much of what I recycle ends up in a landfill anyway, and Penn &Teller used this episode of Bullshit! to convincingly argue that in many cases the landfill option is actually the more environmentally sound alternative.

But of the three, recycling is easily the biggest pain in the Rss. Like any sensible person, I don't want to pollute, or be thought of as a social parasite, but neither do I want to wash, sort and recycle my garbage if it isn't going to do any concrete good. 

So! Should I just shut up and recycle? Or is it your disapproving attitude that should be curbed?