CONTENTS
Title Page
Dedication
Epigraph
Preface: The Struggle
0. The Prisoner’s Dilemma
Five Ways to Solve the Dilemma
1. Direct Reciprocity—Tit for Tat
2. Indirect Reciprocity—Power of Reputation
3. Spatial Games—Chessboard of Life
4. Group Selection—Tribal Wars
5. Kin Selection—Nepotism
Feats of Cooperation
6. Prelife
7. Society of Cells
8. The Lord of the Ants
From Cooperators to SuperCooperators
9. The Gift of the Gab
10. Public Goods
11. Punish and Perish
12. How Many Friends Are Too Many?
13. Game, Set, and Match
14. Crescendo of Cooperation
Acknowledgments
References and Further Reading
Index
Copyright
The only thing that will redeem mankind is cooperation.
—BERTRAND RUSSELL
From the war of nature, from famine and death, the most exalted object which we are capable of conceiving, namely, the production of the higher animals, directly follows.
—Charles Darwin, On the Origin of Species
Biology has a dark side. Charles Darwin referred to this shadowy aspect of nature as the struggle for existence. He realized that competition is at the very heart of evolution. The fittest win this endless “struggle for life most severe” and all others perish. In consequence, every creature that crawls, swims, and flies today has ancestors that once successfully thrived and reproduced more often than their unfortunate competitors. As for the rest, they forfeited any chance to contribute to the next generation. They lost, and now they’re gone.
The struggle was born at least 4 billion years ago, with the first primitive cells. They were simple bacteria, each one little more than a tiny, organized collection of chemicals. If one of these chemical machines had an advantage over its peers, it would reproduce faster. Given better-than-average access to a limited food source, it would prosper and its rivals perish. This struggle continues, and across a spectrum of habitats. Today, Earth is the planet of the cell. Microorganisms now teem in almost every habitat, from poles to deserts to geysers, rocks, and the inky depths of the oceans. Even in our own bodies, bacterial cells outnumber our own. When adding up the total number of cells on Earth today—around 10 to the power of 30, or 1 followed by 30 zeroes—all you have to do is estimate the number of bacterial cells; the rest is pocket change.
The struggle can also be found in those organized collections of cells that we call animals. On the African savannah, a lion crouches in the long grass, muscles tensed and senses tightly focused on a nearby herd. Slowly and silently it stalks the antelope and then suddenly, in a burst of speed, sprints toward an animal, leaps, grabs its neck, and pierces the skin, blood vessels, and windpipe with its long, sharp teeth. It drags the prey to the ground and holds tight until the antelope breathes its last. When the lion finishes with its kill, a shroud of vultures wraps the bloody remains.
In The Descent of Man, Darwin remarked that modern man was born of the same struggle on the same continent. “Africa was formerly inhabited by extinct apes closely allied to the gorilla and chimpanzee; and as these two species are now man’s nearest allies, it is more probable that our early progenitors lived on the African continent than elsewhere.” Our ancestors spread out to colonize the Earth during the last 60,000 years or so, outcompeting archaic species such as Homo erectus and the big-brained Neanderthals (though if you are European, Asian, or New Guinean, you may have a trace of Neanderthal blood racing through your veins). The struggle for existence continues apace, from competition between supermarkets to drive down prices to cutthroat rivalry between Wall Street firms.
In the game of life we are all driven by the struggle to succeed. We all want to be winners. There is the honest way to achieve this objective. Run faster than the pack. Jump higher. See farther. Think harder. Do better. But, as ever, there is the dark side, the calculating logic of self-interest that dictates that one should never help a competitor. In fact, why not go further and make life harder for your rivals? Why not cheat and deceive them too? There’s the baker who palms you off with a stale loaf, rather than the one fresh out of the oven. There’s the waiter who asks for a tip when the restaurant has already added a service charge. There’s the pharmacist who recommends a well-known brand, when you can get a generic version of the same drug much more cheaply. Nice guys finish last, after all.
Humans are the selfish apes. We’re the creatures who shun the needs of others. We’re egocentrics, mercenaries, and narcissists. We look after number one. We are motivated by self-interest alone, down to every last bone in our bodies. Even our genes are said to be selfish. Yet competition does not tell the whole story of biology. Something profound is missing.
Creatures of every persuasion and level of complexity cooperate to live. Some of the earliest bacteria formed strings, where certain cells in each living filament die to nourish their neighbors with nitrogen. Some bacteria hunt in groups, much as a pride of lions hunt together to corner an antelope; ants form societies of millions of individuals that can solve complex problems, from farming to architecture to navigation; bees tirelessly harvest pollen for the good of the hive; mole rats generously allow their peers to dine on their droppings, providing a delicious second chance to digest fibrous roots; and meerkats risk their lives to guard a communal nest.
Human society fizzes with cooperation. Even the simplest things that we do involve more cooperation than you might think. Consider, for example, stopping at a coffee shop one morning to have a cappuccino and croissant for breakfast. To enjoy that simple pleasure could draw on the labors of a small army of people from at least half a dozen countries.
Farmers in Colombia grew the beans. Brazil provided the lush green fields of swaying sugar cane that was used to sweeten the beverage. The dash of creamy milk came from cows on a local farm and was heated with the help of electricity generated by a nuclear power station in a neighboring state. The barista, being a pretentious sort of fellow, made the coffee with mineral water from Fiji. As for that flaky croissant, the flour came from Canada, the butter from France, and the eggs from a local cooperative. The pastry was heated and browned in a Chinese-made oven. Many more people worked in supply lines that straddle the planet to bring these staples together.
Delivering that hot coffee and croissant also relied on a vast number of ideas, which have been widely disseminated by the remarkable medium of language. The result is a tightly woven network of cooperation stretching across the generations, as great ideas are generated, passed on, used, and embellished, from the first person to drink a beverage based on roasted seeds to the invention of the light bulb that illuminates the coffee shop, to the patenting of the first espresso machine.
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