An ironic parallel
Keith S. Taber
I was checking some proofs for something I had written today* [Taber, 2017], and was struck by an ironic parallel between one of the challenges for teaching about the scientific theory of evolution by natural selection and one of the arguments put forward by those who deny the theory. The issue concerns the value of having only part of an integrated system.
The challenge of evolutionary change
One of the arguments that has long been made about the feasibility of evolution is that if it occurs by many small random events, it could not lead to progressive increases in complexity – unless it was guided by some sense of design to drive the many small changes towards some substantive new feature of ability. So, for example, birds have adaptations such as feathers that allow them to fly, even though they are thought to have evolved from creatures that could not fly. The argument goes that for a land animal to evolve into a bird there need to be a great many coordinated changes. Feathers would not appear due to a single mutation, but rather must be the result of a long series of small changes. Moreover, simply growing features would not allow an animal to fly without other coordinated changes such as evolving very light bones and changes in anatomy to support the musculature needed to power the wings.
The same argument can be made about something like the mammalian eye, which can hardly be one random mutation away from an eyeless creature. The eye requires retinal cells, linked to the optic nerve, a lens, the iris, and so on. The eye is an impressive piece of equipment which is as likely to be the result of a handful of random events, as would be – say, a pocket watch found walking on the heath (to use a famous example). A person finding a watch would not assume its mechanism was the result of a chance accumulation of parts that had somehow fallen together. Rather, the precise mechanism surely implies a designer who planned the constructions of the overall object. In 'Intelligent Design' similar arguments are made at the biochemical level, about the complex systems of proteins which only function after they have independently come into existence and become coordinated into a 'machine' such as a flagellum.
The challenge of conceptual change
The parallel concerns the nature of conceptual changes between different conceptual frameworks. Paul Thagard (e.g., 1992) has looked at historical cases and argued that such shifts depend upon judgements of 'explanatory coherence'. For example, the phlogiston theory explained a good many phenomena in chemistry, but also had well-recognised problems.
The very different conceptual framework developed by Lavoisier [the Lavoisiers? **] (before he was introduced to Madame Guillotine) saw combustion as a chemical reaction with oxygen (rather than a release of phlogiston), and with the merits of hindsight clearly makes sense of chemistry much more systematically and thoroughly. It seems hard now to understand why all other contemporary chemists did not readily switch their conceptual frameworks immediately. Thagard's argument was that those who were very familiar with phlogiston theory and had spent many years working with it genuinely found it had more explanatory coherence than the new unfamiliar oxygen theory that they had had less opportunity to work with across a wide range of examples. So chemists who history suggests were reactionary in rejecting the progressive new theory were actually acting perfectly rationally in terms of their own understanding at the time. ***
Evolution is counter-intuitive
Evolution is not an obvious idea. Our experience of the world is of very distinct types of creatures that seldom offer intermediate uncertain individuals. (That may not be true for expert naturalists, but is the common experience.) Types give rise to more of their own: young children know that pups come from dogs and grow to be adult dogs that will have pups, and not kittens, of their own. The fossil record may offer clues, but the extant biological world that children grow up in only offers a single static frame from the on-going movie of evolving life-forms. [That is, everyday 'lifeworld' knowledge can act as substantial learning impediment – we think we already know how things are.]
Natural selection is an exceptionally powerful and insightful theory – but it is not easy to grasp. Those who have become so familiar with it may forget that – but even Darwin took many years to be convinced about his theory.
Understanding natural selection means coordinating a range of different ideas about inheritance, and fitness, and random mutations, and environmental change, and geographical separation of populations, and so forth. Put it all together and the conceptual system seems elegant – perhaps even simple, and perhaps with the advantage of hindsight even obvious. It is said that when Huxley read the Origin of Species his response was "How extremely stupid not to have thought of that!" That perhaps owes as much to the pedagogic and rhetorical qualities of Darwin's writing in his "one long argument". However, Huxley had not thought of it. Alfred Russel Wallace had independently arrived at much the same scheme and it may be no coincidence that Darwin and Wallace had both spent years immersing themselves in the natural history of several continents.
Evolution is counter-intuitive, and only makes sense once we can construct a coherent theoretical structure that coordinates a range of different components. Natural selection is something like a shed that will act as a perfectly stable building once we have put it together, but which it is very difficult to hold in place whilst still under construction. Good scaffolding may be needed.
Incremental change
The response to those arguments about design in evolution is that the many generations between the land animal and the bird, or the blind animal and the mammal, get benefits from the individual mutations that will collectively, ultimately lead to the wing or mammalian eye. So a simple eye is better than no eye, and even a simple light sensitive spot may give its owner some advantage. Wings that are good enough to glide are useful even if their owners cannot actually fly. Nature is not too proud to make use of available materials that may have previously had different functions (whether at the level of proteins or anatomical structures). So perhaps features started out as useful insulation, before they were made use of for a new function. From the human scale it is hard not to see purpose – but the movie of life has an enormous number of frames and, like some art house movies, the observer might have to watch for some time to see any substantive changes.
A pedagogical suggestion – incremental teaching?
So there is the irony. Scientists counter the arguments about design by showing how parts of (what will later be recognised as) an adaptation actually function as smaller or different advantageous adaptations in their own right. Learning about natural selection presents a situation where the theory is only likely to offer greater explanatory coherence than a student's intuitive ideas about the absolute nature of species after the edifice has been fully constructed and regularly applied to a range of examples.
Perhaps we might take the parallel further. It might be worth exploring if we can scaffold learning about natural selection by finding ways to show students that each component of the theory offers some individual conceptual advantages in thinking about aspects of the natural world. That might be an idea worth exploring.
(Note. 'Representing evolution in science education: The challenge of teaching about natural selection' is published in B. Akpan (Ed.), Science Education: A Global Perspective. The International Edition is due to be published by Springer at the end of June 2016.)
Notes:
* First published 30th April 2016 at http://people.ds.cam.ac.uk/kst24/
** "as Madame Lavoisier, Marie-Anne Pierrette Paulze, was his coworker as well as his wife, and it is not clear how much credit she deserves for 'his' ideas" (Taber, 2019: 90). Due to the times in which they works it was for a long time generally assumed that Mme Lavoisier 'assisted' Antoine Lavoisier in his work, but that he was 'the' scientist. The extent of her role and contribution was very likely under-estimated and there has been some of a re-evaluation. It is known that Paulze contributed original diagrams of scientific apparatus, translated original scientific works, and after Antoine was executed by the French State she did much to ensure his work would be disseminated. It will likely never be know how much she contributed to the conceptualisation of Lavoisier's theories.
*** It has also been argued (in the work of Hasok Chang, for example) both that when the chemical revolution is considered, little weight is usually given to the less successful aspects of Lavoisier's theory, and that phlogiston theory had much greater merits and coherence than is usually now suggested.
Sources cited:
- Taber, K. S. (2017). Representing evolution in science education: The challenge of teaching about natural selection. In B. Akpan (Ed.), Science Education: A Global Perspective (pp. 71-96). Switzerland: Springer International Publishing
- Taber, K. S. (2019). The Nature of the Chemical Concept: Constructing chemical knowledge in teaching and learning. Cambridge: Royal Society of Chemistry.
- Thagard, P. (1992). Conceptual Revolutions. Oxford: Princeton University Press.
