Skip to main content

Easter: Eggs, Evolution and Existentialism


Easter is the time of year when card-designers get highly excited about Spring. You can't move without a picture of a lamb, or a chick, or a daffodil, dipping it's yellow head softly in an imaginary breeze; a motion Wordsworth would be proud of, immortalised on a card. As a fan of daffodils, chicks and lambs, I'm not against this in the slightest. But, as an aspiring biologist, as I receive my colourful Easter eggs from kindly relations, and read the cards whose pretty yellow borders sing of sunny Spring, I can't help but wonder what made the human race act like this - why is it that we are so devoted to what is essentially just a Sunday? What makes us hold onto this concept that, because of a story that approximately only 32% of the world population believe in, this day is a special time deserving of celebration?


The surface answers are obvious: for Christians, Easter is a celebration of Jesus' resurrection, raised from the dead, from death on the cross for the sins of humanity, by God. It is arguably the most important date in the Christian calender, and the celebration of the most joy, as it illustrates freedom from suffering, the triumph of life after death. Others perhaps, who are not devoted to belief in Christianity - a group I would currently place myself in - perhaps celebrate and enjoy Easter still for the representation of new life and life defying death, but in the more pagan following of Winter with Spring, respite from the darkness and cold and the beginning of new life in the natural world. Eggs, therefore, represent this new life, and work both for delicious satisfaction and for metaphorical meaning as gifts of joy at this time. 

The deeper question, however, the one I really wanted to answer, is this: genetically speaking, why is it that humans have evolved to have this need to celebrate religious occasions, to come together in this way and celebrate what is, in actual fact, just a Sunday. Evolution, of course, is the answer - an idea that would freeze the hearts of the religious population of Victorian Britain: science is behind religion. 

Religious behaviour has occurred in all societies throughout the world at all stages of population development. It holds a genetic basis, which means it is an evolved behaviour, existing in our DNA because natural selection determined it useful for survival. Evolution in this way has given people a genetic pre-disposition, as is also present for language, to learn the religion of their community. From there, culture, not genetics, determines what we learn and what we choose to believe. 

Scientifically, there are two schools of thought as to why this evolution occurred. The first is that religion itself evolved due to natural selection for survival, and is therefore an adaptation giving evolutionary advantage. The second follows the belief that religion was a by-product of different adaptations, without being initially selected for for its own benefits.

This image belongs to Nick Biemans/Shutterstock
It is easy, perhaps, to see how in a hunter-gatherer society, as the human race began in, religious activities and rituals lead to stronger bonds and therefore higher chance of survival through the age old 'safety in numbers'. Rituals such as dancing created social bonds which lead to greater cohesion and cooperation within the group. This in turn makes it more efficient, and leads to a better chance of survival and reproductive success. Social bonds are illustrated in a similar way in chimpanzee groups, wherein grooming between two chimpanzees leads to increase levels of the hormone oxytocin, which plays an intrinsic role in non-kin cooperation. Religion would have served these early human societies, formed of small collaborative groups, as a sort of intangible law through which individuals would be socially obligated to put the needs of the group before the needs of the self, in fear of a 'divine punishment' or social ostracisation. As a result, the group both had a reason to avoid harm to each other, and a belief to inspire confidence in warfare and conflict, resulting in a society which had greater survival rates and social strength. Groups who had some form of religious structure would hence prevail of those that did not, and the allele frequency of genes 'for' religious thought and ritual would become more numerous until they were universal. Religion also became tied to natural occurrences - festivals in Spring and Autumn helping get the crops planted and harvested among celebration, inspiring labour and organisation. The 'God Gene Hypothesis' suggests that a particular gene, VMAT2, predisposes humans towards spiritual or ritualistic experiences, and is seen by some to act as an agent to increased optimism, leading to positive effects on other factors like health and reproductive success, though this has not been convincingly proven. 

The theory of religion as a by-product follows really the evolution of the human mind for consciousness, the realisation that we are mortal and the realisation that one must deal with their
inevitable death. Religion therefore served a fitting purpose for our anxieties - for ourselves, our lives, and about things we cannot, or could not, explain. The coordinated anxiety with others, through the outlet of religion, may have served a reassuring purpose, in which we feel meaning and can therefore manage our fear through the outlet of action.  

belonging to simplecapactity.com
It is easy, perhaps, to assume a biologist is an atheist. Indeed, when Darwin first published the Theory of Evolution it was considered incredibly blasphemous, against all concept of religion. But really, the idea of religion as an evolved trait perhaps negates neither atheism or religion. Critics of religion emphasise the negative effects caused by extreme religious leaders - in particular warfare and the act of extremist groups who by no means represent the entire religious population. But religion as a means of social cohesion, as a means for survival, in its most basic function of encouraging morality and humanity, is still very much a part of the functioning of today's society. The beliefs of entire religions is in no way represented by the extremist acts of the few, and even the most solid of atheists feel a unanimity in their mutual unbelieving. As a social bond, and a means of facing the reality of human existence, we can see indeed how religion is a trait naturally selected for to improve our chances of survival, as a species. 

After all, religious or not, we are brought together at Easter, to celebrate together new life in the form of eggs and chicks and lambs and daffodils. Whatever social significance it holds and stimulus it arises from, we all feel it.  


Sources
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/15/weekinreview/12wade.html?_r=0
http://www.washingtontimes.com/blog/watercooler/2012/dec/23/84-percent-world-population-has-faith-third-are-ch/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Evolutionary_psychology_of_religion
http://www.bbc.co.uk/nature/21131703

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Deep roots are not reached by frost.

A couple of months ago, as happens every so often, I was sent a survey from a student discount organisation with which I have an account. Often I completely disregard these - and if I do complete them, it's the multiple choice answers only, I'm never engaged enough to write anything longer.

This particular survey, however, was from the Woodlands Trust. I'm a Zoology student and a conservationist, and it's safe to say that I care about trees, so I was more than willing to put in a little extra effort. The questions were as you would expect, until one in particular: "Is there any tree in your life with special significance?". I can imagine a lot of people answered a quick 'no' to this question and asked themselves what sort of a person did have a significant tree in their life. 
I am the sort of person that does. My community are the sort of people who do.
A month or so after, when I was home from university at Christmas, I took my dog on a walk of whic…

Country Roads (Take Me Home)

I am not, and I don't think I ever will be, a 'city girl'. I was brought up in Hertfordshire which, as I found when I first arrived at university, is apparently a county seen as 'basically London innit?' No. For the most part, no, it is not.

My Hertfordshire has very little to do with London, or any other city for that matter. My Hertfordshire is a small town with a street of shops and a street of restaurants, a wide town park, and beyond it fields on fields of crops, spattered here and there with tiny villages of increasingly ridiculous names (my favourite is 'Loudwater', because it truly belongs to a Tolkien novel). It's home to narrow country lanes and wide open spaces and the occasional forest. Not well known (9/10 people assume that I said 'Herefordshire' when they ask where I come from), nor very large, and certainly not a 'city' place, it has put deep roots in me that long to be surrounded by skies and grass, not buildings.

But s…

In All Honesty: To Myself and To You

To anyone and no one; and mostly to myself.

I have not posted here in a very long time. To have to say that is not what I wanted when I started this blog. But it is a fact, and I will not pretend that it isn't.

The truth is, that sometimes it can be extraordinarily hard to work out how you really want to spend your time - and even harder to act on it. When I first made this blog, it was because I thought that in the future I might like to become a wildlife or nature journalist, and that to have a blog would be a good idea. I put a lot of pressure on myself to write like a journalist, because I thought that's what I wanted...but all it did was make me feel that I couldn't write what I wanted to write. I thought that I needed to do Serious, Meticulously Researched Articles about important global issues; about conservation; about things that I am passionate about...but that honestly I'm neither informed enough to write about nor blessed with time to research, as I would …