694 THE STRUCTURE OF EVOLUTIONARY THEORY
terms resides in the unstated (and probably unconscious) notion that benefits for
organisms define the ultimate goal and purpose of evolution as a general
phenomenon. Thus, anything that can evolve, but either hurts the organism
actively, or even just manages to sneak past organismal scrutiny, must be
designated as selfishness, nastiness, or even usurpation—as promoted by some
reprobate object that would place its own propagation above the general good of
evolution.
Surely, we must reject such parochial thinking and terminology. Propagating
genie elements should not be described as parasites or renegades; nor can they be
defined as "selfish" in any meaningful or general sense. Rather, propagating genes
follow the Darwinian imperative at their own level, and therefore act as any good
Darwinian agent "should"—that is, to increase their own representation within
their own environment, the genome in this case. As Darwinians, we should honor
their pluck in such a difficult endeavor (for organisms do tend to be watchful and
suppressive), rather than heaping derogatory terms upon them. Such genes could
only be deemed "selfish," "parasitic," etc., from a false and limited perspective that
values the organism alone as an agent of evolutionary success. After all, we don't
call a peacock selfish for evolving such a beautiful tail, and thus limiting the
geological longevity of the species.
To fully embrace the hierarchical model, a concept that marks a fundamental
shift in theory, not just an interesting new wrinkle upon an unaltered concept of
nature's basic construction, we must reconceptualize all of evolution, and revise
both our worldview, and our language, accordingly.
Second, even in terms of our conventional focus on organisms, genie
selection may provide crucial and indispensable flexibility for evolution of any
substantial organismic novelty, including features conventionally placed in our
most vaunted category of "increasing complexity." The general argument has
become traditional in evolutionary theory (since the pioneering book of Ohno,
1970), and represents a solution to the following, otherwise disabling, paradox:
Organismal selection on the earth's original prokaryotic biota might have
constructed an optimal cell, "mean and lean" as could be, with a single copy of
each gene to make, in the best possible way, one product indispensable for cellular
success and propagation. But how could such an inflexible organism ever change
beyond minor adjustment to altered environmental circumstances? As Ohno wrote
(1970): "from a bacterium only numerous forms of bacteria would have emerged."
But duplicated copies can provide requisite redundancy, permitting one copy to
manufacture the needed product, while others become free to change—and to add
new functions, thus providing a potential route to increasing complexity.
But if selection only works at the organismic level, and our "mean and lean"
bacterial prototype has attained an optimal configuration, what process provides
evolution with the multiple copies needed for flexible addition of functions? We
gain nothing from noting that duplications provide later blessings, since evolution
cannot operate for the benefit of unknown and unpredictable