Wednesday, 14 March 2018


IN SEARCH OF DARWIN - THE MAN BEHIND THE ISM

Dave Randle


Despite the perpetual bandying about of his name by those for whom it is a talisman of good faith and often a professional credential, Darwin the man tends to remain a sort of eminence grise in the public mind.

An ardent Christian and believer in godliness, his faith was to be tested, perhaps to destruction, and certainly edited out by those to whom it was an embarrassment and practical inconvenience.

A bizarre outcome of this is that the old boy himself now comes across as someone immortal, invisible and universally wise.

We know he had a big beard, and that he was lampooned mercilessly by the press for allegedly saying people and monkeys were related - indeed that we all ‘evolved’ from simian forebears. What he actually said is to be found in his books, thankfully, so it is still possible to consult his real thoughts and the progress of his investigations.

What a lot of people seem to think he said has much more to do with ringmasters such as Huxley who turned those investigations into a circus act and caused to be created the iconic ape to man cartoon whose pictorial sleight of hand not only continues to deceive, but which has spawned ever more publicity-hungry ringmasters and more unlikely sequences that depend on it utterly for their apparent credibility.

Darwin’s family home, Downe House is now in the hands of English Heritage. Set in the exquisite Kent countryside to the west of Sevenoaks, it provides a rare tangible sense of its erstwhile owner, largely thanks to sympathetic management that enables it to both retain its character and something of the timelessness of its Victorian heyday. Visitors can still sit on the terrace and contemplate the big questions. In fact, seating is provided in almost every space in the house - a rare boon that could well be emulated by other visitor attractions.

Passing through the obligatory shop (I bought a coaster with the Huxley graphic on it) and up the one-way stairs, one is led into an introductory room in which Darwin’s work is set in its historical context in a clear and well-constructed wall display that even gives fair credit to contemporaries such as Wallace and Lamarck; the latter, whose ideas Darwin supported, getting away without any of the vitriol and ridicule often reserved for him by those who have discovered or formulated nothing of value.

On the opposite wall, a monitor runs a loop of testimonials from English Heritage bigwigs and TV pundits on what Darwin means to them.

All agree that he was a ‘very nice man’. In contradistinction to the received picture of bluff and disciplinary Victorian fathers, all are at pains to confirm that he was the perfect dad, involving his numerous children in his discoveries and experiments and remaining even tempered in all circumstances.

That other very nice man of science, Sir David Attenborough, explains that before Darwin the subject of biology was in disorder. There was no want of discoveries or theories, but there was no unifying plan that could be called upon to turn the ragbag into whole cloth. Physicists had their measurements, chemists their tables. The science of nature shared their abhorrence for vacuums, so Darwin’s proposals and extrapolations rushed in to fill the void.

He was helped not a little in this regard by having a visible (and amenable) means of support. Earning a living had never crossed his mind, his father being both able and willing to subsidise him in all endeavours, including his specimen collecting voyagings on the Beagle, during which he seemed to get through a surprising amount of money considering the uncivilised or at least uncommercialised nature of many of the ship’s ports of call. Both applying for more and getting the dosh to him were no small enterprises in themselves in those times.

Lord Bragg chooses Darwin’s work with earthworms as his special achievement. The dogged way in which he unravelled and recorded the systems and the scale of these creatures’ apparently selfless contribution to the lives of other forms, not least thee and me, is unquestionably a high point in biological endeavour.

The worms don’t get much out of it, apart from a face-full of dirt. But their service to us is incalculable.

Working in the days when ‘all creatures great and small’ were created and animated by God, it was easy for Darwin to see the interdependence, the symbiosis that consisted of each in the service of all - an eco-system in modern parlance - but a system, whatever you call it. The enormity of this was naturally a source of major irritation to those looking for a science they could control; one that put man in his place.

Darwin was not postulating a materialist world in which man sprang from the earth, but his ‘natural selection’ suggested automaticity, something driven or modified by reaction rather than causation and this was enough to build on for those without their fellows’ best interests at heart.

Then tragedy struck. The Darwins’ eldest daughter, Annie was taken from them. There was nothing more that could possibly be done by materialist science. Darwin was desolated, and his accustomed scientific rationality, not surprisingly, compromised. If God existed, how could he let this happen? What we now know as the Stephen Fry Computation: If there is an immortal, etc. author of the universe, his, her or its concerns would surely be those of a television personality.

As Sir David hinted in the film, any system for the fledgling science was better than no system, and a system that could devolve responsibility and sentience to something mindless and automatic best of all. It can’t be laid at Darwin’s door that misinterpretation and corruption of his work would be used to give spurious legitimacy to the tyranny of Neo-Darwinists, whose nonsense evolves the fattest and ugliest in all things from banks to corporations to governments and the UN, and is really just fascism and eugenics dressed up as science.

Down House still has something of the old man’s spirit. Undistracted by games and projects to overstimulate and patronise children, there remains sufficient of the calm atmosphere of this former home to tune into.

Darwin was clearly a careful man; an observer not given to jumping to conclusions, and someone who didn’t need to dance to the tune of the food or pharmaceutical mafias to obtain funding. He could take his time and observe what was before him - for long hours.

As Lord Bragg suggests, his work on earthworms was far more valuable than that on evolution. It demonstrated symbiosis, to someone who took the time and trouble to look, the way in which life supports life through all its forms.

I think he would be genuinely distressed by the rape and slaughter that is done by people who don’t even begin to grasp the empty tautology of ‘survival of the fittest’, those who take it to mean a few predatory lunkheads will inherit the earth when they’ve gobbled up everyone else.

You can get close to the man’s mind by reading his work. But you get closer to his spirit by visiting Down House.


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