Posts tagged ‘Richard Dawkins’

Christianity in a Culture of Narcissism: From Darwin to Dawkins

Growing up, one of my favorite books was P.D. Eastman’s Are You My Mother?  If you have kids, or if you grew up with my generation, or even the generation before, you no doubt remember this jewel of a children’s story.  It features a baby bird who hatches while his mother is out worm-hunting.  When he discovers he is alone in the nest, he ventures out looking for his mother.  But he does not know who she is or what she looks like.  So he goes to a kitten and asks her if she is his mother.  The cat remains silent.  So he goes to a hen.  No dice.  She’s the wrong kind of bird.  He journeys on to find a dog.  But the dog insists she is not the bird’s mother.  Desperate, the little bird presses on to even inanimate objects, asking if they are his mother – a car, a tugboat, a plane, and finally an enormous power shovel.   “Are you my mother?” the bird asks the shovel.  The shovel, much to the little bird’s fright, snorts smoke out of its exhaust stack and picks up the bird and lifts him high, high into the sky.  But then, in a twist of fate, the shovel drops him right back into his nest just in time for his real mother to return.  And when the bird sees her, he sings with delight, “I know who you are.  You are not a kitten.  You are not a hen.  You are not a dog.  You are not a cow.  You are not a boat, or a plane, or a Snort!” – the little bird’s name for the power shovel – “You are a bird, and you are my mother.”[1]

Perhaps the reason this story has resonated with the hearts of so many children for so many years is because it touches on a need all of us have – to belong.  The little bird wanted to know to whom he belonged.  And so do we.  As kids, we want to feel as though we belong to our parents.  As we grow, we want to belong to a group of our peers.  As we get yet older, we often will give ourselves to one another in marriage and thus belong to a spouse.

This desire to belong is not surprising.  After all, the Bible says we are created in “the image of God” (Genesis 1:27) and, as such, are ultimately designed to belong to Him.  As the apostle Paul reminds us, “You do not belong to yourself, for God bought you with a high price” (1 Corinthians 6:19-20 NLT).  We all want to belong.  And, by faith in Christ, we can belong, above everything and everyone else, to God.

Though we all feel a need to belong, a narcissism disguised and gilded in the sterile white lab coats of those who believe that science as a discipline demands a naturalistic worldview in toto is seeking to slowly undermine and supplant this natural desire.  This narcissism is promoted by people who, with a paradoxical twist of religious fervency, ground themselves in a system of Darwinian evolution hitched to a strident atheism which espouses not a human desire to belong, but a human fight for survival.

It is well known that the mechanism by which Darwinian evolution works is Natural Selection, or, to use the phrase originally coined by the British philosopher Herbert Spencer, “the survival of the fittest.”  Charles Darwin explains the principle:

Owing to this struggle for life, any variation, however slight and from whatever cause proceeding, if it be in any degree profitable to an individual of any species, in its infinitely complex relations to other organic beings and to external nature, will tend to the preservation of that individual, and will generally be inherited by its offspring. The offspring, also, will thus have a better chance of surviving, for, of the many individuals of any species which are periodically born, but a small number can survive. I have called this principle, by which each slight variation, if useful, is preserved, by the term of Natural Selection.[2]

Evolution, Darwin claims, lurches forward because those with less desirable traits die off while those with more desirable traits survive, passing on their superior attributes to subsequent generations.  These subsequent generations, in turn, grow stronger and more environmentally adept.  In short, they “evolve.”  Survival, then, becomes a mark of success in a Darwinian system where propagation of oneself is the name of the game.  Can there be a goal more blatantly narcissistic than this?

The difficulty with Darwin’s theory, of course, is that, even while it has succeeded at elevating biological narcissism to a cause célèbre, it has nevertheless failed to explain why humans sometimes act so un-narcissistically – even downright charitably!  Indeed, Darwin decried this human tendency toward charity and warned of its ill effects:

We civilized men…do our utmost to check the process of elimination; we build asylums for the imbecile, the maimed, and the sick; we institute poor-laws; and our medical men exert their utmost skill to save the life of every one to the last moment.  There is reason to believe that vaccination has preserved thousands, who from a weak constitution would formerly have succumbed to small-pox.  Thus the weak members of civilized societies propagate their kind.  No one who has attended to the breeding of domestic animals will doubt that this must be highly injurious to the race of man.  It is surprising how soon a want of care, or care wrongly directed, leads to the degeneration of a domestic race; but excepting in the case of man himself, hardly any one is so ignorant as to allow his worst animals to breed.[3]

“If only,” Darwin opines, “we would not labor so compassionately to ‘check the process of elimination.’ If only we weren’t so charitable to each other!”  According to Darwin, a narcissistic fight for one’s own survival and propagation that results in other, less fit creatures dying off and dying out is in line nature’s ultimate goal and good.

But this still does not solve the problem of human charity.  If we are indeed the products of an inexorable evolutionary march propelled by Natural Selection, what causes us to trade the narcissism innate to this system for an unnatural, and even counterproductive, altruism?

Committed atheist and evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins sought to address this difficulty in his 1976 classic, The Selfish Gene.  Dawkins explains that, even when people act in seemingly altruistic ways, their genes are still driving them to act in a manner which ultimately protects their survival and insures their propagation.   So if a mother runs into a burning car to save her children, for instance, she is doing so not out of authentic altruism, but so that her genes can live on in her children, even if she dies.  Likewise, if someone helps someone else to whom is he not genetically related, Dawkins claims he is doing so out of “reciprocal altruism,”[4] a term Dawkins borrows from the sociobiologist Robert Trivers, which is essentially the genetic equivalent of the old saw, “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”  In other words, when a person does something “nice” for someone else, that person expects some sort of genomic favor in return.  Yet, not all cases of altruism can be accounted for so coldly.  For instance, when a fireman risks his own life, storming a burning building to save another, how can one account for this biologically?  He is usually not related to the person trapped inside.  Thus, he cannot be said to be working out of an evolutionary mandate to propagate his progeny.  And his chance of receiving a favor in return, though possible, is certainly not probable enough to drive the risk he takes.  Even Dawkins must admit that there is such a thing as “pure, disinterested altruism” that “has no place in nature.”  Indeed, it has “never existed before in the whole history of the world.”[5]  Evolutionary biology simply cannot account for all the mysteries of human philanthropy.

If nothing else, the evolutionary attack on human charity in favor of a calculated, genomic narcissism shows that, no matter how prevalent narcissism may be in our world, it is not altogether systemic.  There are still times and places in which people look outside of themselves.  Belonging to each other through love and kindness still count.  And lest one cynically protests that belonging is merely an underhanded means to propagation and survival, we must remember that sometimes, belonging means risking one’s livelihood and even life.  Belonging to an army means risking one’s existence for the sake of a cause.  Belonging to a philanthropic organization means risking one’s health and wellbeing for the sake of fighting the AIDS pandemic in Africa.  And belonging to Christ means losing one’s life for the sake of the gospel.  That’s not narcissistic.  That’s selfless.  And that’s still good…no matter what Natural Selection may claim.


[1] P.D. Eastman, Are You My Mother? (Random House Books, 1960), 62.

[2] Charles Darwin, On the Origin of Species (London: Cassell & Company, Ltd., 1909), 64.

[3] Charles Darwin, The Descent of Man (forgottenbooks.org, 1874), 116-117.

[4] Richard Dawkins, The Selfish Gene (Oxford:  Oxford University Press, 1976), 202.

[5] Dawkins, 201.

July 9, 2012 at 5:15 am 3 comments

An Atheist Confronts Death

I recently learned that Christopher Hitchens, noted atheist and author of God Is Not Great:  How Religion Poisons Everything, has been stricken by cancer.  In an article for Vanity Fair, Hitchens makes what I consider to be some astonishing statements.  First, he is so bold as to personify death: “I have been taunting the Reaper into taking a free scythe in my direction and have now succumbed to something so predictable and banal that it bores even me.”  Death has a face in Hitchens’ mind – and a grim face at that.  Death is a Reaper.  Actually, death is the Reaper with a capital “R.”  No longer is death merely a force of nature.  It is a sinister character.  I, hopefully not surprisingly, would agree.  Death is sinister because death is sinful – the result of a fallen and broken creation.  Of course, Hitchens continues by calling this character “predictable and banal,” which I suppose it is, for we all die, but it doesn’t make it any less grim.

Hitchens’ second astonishing statement comes at the end of his article:

I am quietly resolved to resist bodily as best I can, even if only passively, and to seek the most advanced advice. My heart and blood pressure and many other registers are now strong again: indeed, it occurs to me that if I didn’t have such a stout constitution I might have led a much healthier life thus far. Against me is the blind, emotionless alien, cheered on by some who have long wished me ill. But on the side of my continued life is a group of brilliant and selfless physicians plus an astonishing number of prayer groups.

This statement did more than astonished me, it blew me away.  First, as far as I can tell, the “blind, emotionless alien” to which Hitchens refers is the cycle of life and death, standardized and ruled, according to many atheists, by evolutionary theory and natural selection.  It is what another atheist luminary Richard Dawkins called, “the blind watchmaker.”  And yes, if true, this cycle is blind and emotionless.  Indeed, it is more than emotionless, it is merciless.  It cares not about our lives and our fears and our hopes and our dreams.  But curiously, Hitchens continues by noting that this “blind, emotionless alien” is “cheered on by some who have wished me ill.”  How something “emotionless” can be moved by “cheers” of encouragement, I do not know.  But I do know that it is morally base to cheer on the death of another.  Theologically, death is a result of sin.  To cheer on death, then, is to cheer on sin.  Death may be inevitable and sometimes, as in cases of war or capital punishment, sanctioned and permitted according to the governing authorities and the concerns of justice, but it is not cheer-worthy.  Blessedly, however, Hitchens continues by noting that on the side of his life “is a group of brilliant and selfless physicians plus an astonishing number of prayer groups.”  It almost sounds as if Hitchens is admitting that “selfless physicians,” “selfless” being a moral designation foreign to committed evolutionary atheism, and “prayer groups” have some sort of power to cheat death.  Is Hitchens admitting that prayer works?  If so, how does he think it works?  And why does he think it works?

I myself believe that prayer does work, but only because of the One to whom we pray.  For the One to whom we pray has power over death.  As the apostle Paul writes, “‘Where, O death, is your victory?  Where, O death, is your sting?’  The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.  But thanks be to God!  He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 15:55-57).  Jesus conquers death and brings life.  There’s an empty grave to prove it.  And it is in that spirit that I pray that Christopher Hitchens’ grave stays empty for a good time longer in this present age – and on the Last Day.  Christ has the power to make it so.  I pray that Hitchens learns to trust that.

August 5, 2010 at 9:36 am 2 comments


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