Image credit: “Madonna adoring the Child Sleeping” (ca. 1650) by Giovanni Battista Salvi, Il Sassoferrato – Museo Soumaya, Mexico
part 10 of a series
What we talk about when we talk about nice
For when the gods and mortal men had a dispute at Mecone, even then Prometheus was forward to cut up a great ox and set portions before them, trying to deceive the mind of Zeus. Before the rest he set flesh and inner parts thick with fat upon the hide, covering them with an ox paunch; but for Zeus he put the white bones dressed up with cunning art and covered with shining fat.
– Hesiod, Theogony 535–540
You know, evolutionary biologists are a curious sort. Which, yes, of course, could be said of all the sorts of your sort, Homo nosce te ipsum. All curious in their own ways, most not so nice if history is any sort of guide.
Glad to be past that obvious observation, you spit, earning yet another gold star. And also a demerit, for derailing the whole thing. Offsetting.
Which prompts yet another tiresome discussion among the three you’s. The first you has arms folded, having scored a good spit. There! The next couldn’t be bothered, mulling some memory from the past that the other two would prefer to forget. The third, exhibiting the trait that killed the cat (and lacking a modern vocabulary), claws its way to the muddled surface of consciousness to query:
Evolutionary biologists? Queer how?
Well, in all sorts of ways. But two in particular.
First, they maintain that every behavior of every living being, from bacteria to your sort, must confer some selective advantage, however remote. Maybe directly, like the neurochemistry of your libido, maybe less so, like you giving Christmas gifts to your nieces. Or, if no selective advantage can be imagined, your behavior is relegated to the architectural scrap heap of “spandrels,” an evolutionary by-product of no present adaptive value but certainly adaptive in origin at some point in the past. Because you making more you’s is what it’s all about. Period. Or, more precisely, your genes making more of themselves, using you much like fungi hijacking ants, rendering them zombies, to do the fungi’s bidding. Which is making more fungi.
Leading to the second: the story they tell themselves about nice. As they have it, altruism must be as pure as the driven snow. There is no nice if not entirely nice, a reproductive cost incurred with no hope of repayment. Ever. Otherwise it’s self interest masquerading as nice, which is sinister, thus especially not-nice.
Much like the Christian formulation of agape love as “unconditional.” Which is a translation of the Greek agape (αγάπη) only a dope could make, indefensible from its use in their own sacred texts, much less in the wider culture of the time or its historical valences. But that seems to be what they teach in their madrassas, conveniently forgetting that the LORD’s love demands reciprocation (hot anger ensuing if none is found). Which is a version of nice evolutionary biologists could embrace in their stony hearts (because it’s actually not-so-nice) if only they would abandon their willful ignorance.
For apostate scientists—and you know, they are Apostates by virtue of refusing to accept that it’s Christians in fact that have graced the world with apostatic accomplishments, impossible without the ordered universe the Christian LORD created…. Except, as it turns out, at the quantum level it doesn’t seem to be all that ordered. Or at the macro level either, the one you live in. And anyway Christians have a long history of fighting any- and every-thing smacking of what is now called science, rolling down hot anger like waters in the service of Nice himself—you know, the one of whom they say, Ὁ θεὸς ἀγάπη ἐστίν (“God is love”).
For those Apostates, the few of them who care to learn any Greek at all, the meaning of agape would be determined by its observable use over time by actual (as opposed to imagined) entities over time. Which, like it or not, includes certain members of Homo nosce te ipsum using it in strange and mysterious ways.
Where, you might wonder (ever interested in origins), did Christians ever get the idea that agape had anything to do with a sort of altruism that evolutionary biologists can’t abide, the unconditional sort—because that’s either impossible or a mistake? Dolphins saving humans and other such nonsense.
It all started in 1930–1936 with the publication of the two-volume Agape and Eros by the Swedish theologian and later Bishop of Lund, Anders Nygren, who, besides being a Lutheran, seems to have known just enough Greek to be dangerous. Which is unfair: he knew Greek well enough. It’s just that his theology overran his philology. Nygren was on an origin quest, determined to discover the essence of Christianity—one might say “mere” Christianity—its “fundamental motif.” Sure enough, he found it in the Christian concept of agape, which stood in stark contrast to its opposite, eros, a second fundamental motif. Eros is a nasty business: self-interested, acquisitive, based on desire, bottom-up. Agape, on the other hand, is self-giving, gratuitous, “unconditional” and entirely top-down. Nothing you can possibly do would earn “Divine love” as your sort has neither merit nor value. Any niceness that might be attributed to you, any fruit of the spirit, is simply the divine acting through you. As one critic put it, “human beings are reduced to valueless tubes of divine love.”
If you’re the noticing type, you might notice how congenial Nygren’s theologizing is with Richard Dawkins’s scientizing. For Nygren, humans are incapable of nice; ditto Dawkins. And for Nygren, humans have no value, at best being conduits of a greater nice; for Dawkins, humans are “throwaway survival machines” in service of a greater power, genes—which can be nice, but only by mistake.
Where did the good Bishop get all that? Paul in the first instance (of course), then Luther (of course), who reasserted the ideal of Agape, which Nygren maintained had been contaminated by Eros in medieval theology, with their Caritas, a false synthesis of bitterly opposed motifs.
The Bishop’s theological incision, made to get at the guts of “genuine” Christianity, created a hemorrhage of agape theorizing. Tillich writes of agape as “the drive toward being-itself” (whatever that means). Lewis describes agape as “all giving and not getting” and “the best [of his four loves] because it is the kind God has for us and is good in all circumstances” (except the circumstance of unrequitedness). For Martin Luther King Jr. agape is “understanding and creative, redemptive goodwill for all men … an overflowing love which seeks nothing in return” (except social justice). In his 2005 encyclical Deus charitas est, Pope Benedict XVI took direct aim at Nygren, claiming that eros and agape, while distinct, are not opposed; if one wants to give love (agape), one must be able to receive love (eros).
All of that is fine, however philologically suspect. Nice even. Except for leaving out one wee detail—one that a notable evangelist did not fail to note, however reluctantly: the or else.
Stadiums filled to witness Billy Graham who, waving his bible above his head, preached of “a supernatural agape love, that only God has but He can give it to you…” Which, fine, except for the inevitable or else: “…if you come to His Son, Jesus Christ.” Barring that, hot anger ensues—in fiery form. The Reverend admits he doesn’t like to think about it, doesn’t like to talk about it, doesn’t like to preach about it, but can’t avoid it: Jesus, he reminds his audience, “taught more about hell than he did heaven.” So threatened, sinners in their thousands flocked to the altar, much preferring a decidedly conditional agape to the alternative—all the while an organ groaning that hymn of the defeated, “Just As I Am, Without One Plea.”
They were sort of primed to be defeated, just by showing up, one of you suggests. The other two nodding in agreement. A striking moment of comity.
Quite a lot of work for a little word, agape, that got its start denoting “mild affection” or “contentedness.” And one not much used in Hellenistic literature—until the Committee of Jewish Scholars took it upon themselves to translate the Hebrew Bible into Greek, producing an edition named for the Committee’s number: 70 (LXX). Why might they do that? Oh, maybe because their dispersed tribe had long since become Greek speakers. But that’s another story….
Trouble seems to have been they didn’t have a very good Hebrew-English lexicon to assist their labors. The entry for the Hebrew root אָהַב (’ahav, “love”) was notably short: “ἀγάπη (agape, “love”). Which really makes a mess of Greek, which had any number of words for what in English might be stupidly translated “love,” which is to say that the Committee’s translation anticipated the mess modern English would make by, like, centuries. You know, with only one word, love, that has so many meanings as to have none.
And the Committee slavishly translated ’ahav as agape for all sorts of things—friendly affection (where philia would have done better), romantic love and passion (where eros would have done better), parental love (where storge would have done better), and so on. They even used it for the emotion Amnon had for the beautiful Tamar, just before raping her and then booting her out of his bedroom: He “fell in love (ἠγάπησεν = aorist of ἀγαπάω, “loved”) with her.”
Not even English, with a similar philological hair lip, would render what Amnon was up to as “love.”
You might think the Committee, having sullied agape to such an extent, would have found some other word for that greatest of all loves, that of YHWH for his people, covenantal love. But no, they were stuck with the lexicon they had and, like good scholars, did not stray from it.
So you might read, “But because the LORD loves (agape) you, He will keep the covenant that He swore to your fathers.” How nice! And doubly nice, because even beyond love you get covenant, which is among the nicest of words. Entering English via the Norman invasion of England (which was not so nice), from the Latin conveniens, convenientem (“agreeing, agreeable, suitable, convenient”), covenant brings to mind two parties filled with good will coming to a mutual accommodation, a genuine win-win situation. It warms the heart.
Except, that’s not at all what the Greek word translated as covenant means in the LXX. Not even slightly. Greek had a word for a contract between equals: syntheke. The Committee never-ever-not-once made the likely fatal mistake of using syntheke for the relationship their LORD had in mind. That would put humans on the same ontological plain as the divinity, which would be sure to provoke hot anger. The Committee knew who they were dealing with, so instead they chose diatheke, which is not nearly as nice, as it is a one-sided legal instrument—not a negotiated agreement.
And so you might read further, “I [the LORD] have forsaken my house, I have cast off my heritage; I have given my beloved (from agape) into the hands of her enemies. My heritage has become to me like a lion in the forest… therefore I hated her.” Which is exactly the reaction Amnon had to Tamar after having his way with her: “And he hated her with a very great hatred, for great was the love (from agape) with which he had loved (from agape) her.” And to tie the knot more tightly, the word for “hate/hated” in both episodes comes from the same Greek word: μισέω (miseo, “to hate”).
Make of that what you will.
But whatever you make of it, turns out, the LORD’s covenantal love is not so nice, as it always carries an or else that can trigger the hottest of hot anger: hatred. If you’re honest, you’ll notice the implied or else even in that most beloved of New Testament verses, John 3:16.
But, you protest, what about Love your enemies? Do good to those that persecute you? That’s super nice.
At which point the second you might have pointed out that there’s no virtue in confusing nice with stupidity, but you’re not that smart.
So it comes to pass that the Apostates (with their inexorable Law) and the Heirs of the Committee (with their insufferable LORD) find themselves in fundamental (if rare) agreement: scratch nice and you’re bound to find not-so-nice. Altruism is really just self interest in sheep’s clothing; agape is always conditioned by a terrifying or else.
Except, your lying eyes see something different. You’re likely too much of a miser yourself, but you at least know of people who, as an example, give $10 a month (“…only 33 cents a day!”) to Save the Children, said children being of no relation, in no proximity, and in no position to reciprocate. Confounding to scientists and theologians alike, so jaundiced are their gazes.
How to account for that sort of nice, the sort that you could scratch at for centuries and still find no change in character? How can your sort, Homo nosce te ipsum, foil their gods and natural selection both?
First to the Apostates: Keen observers that you style yourselves to be, you might notice that not all behaviors intersect with natural selection. That donations to Save the Children incur a cost, but a negligible one, and one that in no way has reproductive implications (unless all the generous souls making such contributions are as destitute as the widow parting with her mites). Which makes it not only possible but positively banal for the impossibly high bar you’ve set for nice to be cleared.
And what’s so wrong with nice being both nice and self-serving? Think about it: Isn’t it nice that it’s nice to be nice? Isn’t it nice that parents love their children, that friends feel mutual affection, that a kindness offered expects a kindness in return? Would you rather be a wolverine???
And, sciency as you are, you must be aware that Homo nosce te ipsum is hardwired, carrot and stick, to be nice. When you do nice, your brain is flooded with all sorts of happy chemicals (oxytocin, dopamine, endorphins); when you do not-nice you get a chemical slap (cortisol). And not just your sort; so it goes with all sorts of creatures (see Handy Table). Dolphins actually feel good about themselves when they save a drowning human! And fine, you can call that “genes misfiring” if you like, but that’s a whole lot of clubfootery for a process so lauded for its cold efficiency. Maybe too much? Maybe enough to hint at a “line of escape,” as W.D. Hamilton hoped, from your grim Law?
As to the Heirs of the Committee, well, probably no saving you. Not most of you anyway. That would require risking hot anger by knocking your sacred texts down a few ontological notches. You might need to consider the possibility that your texts are not all that sacred, that covenantal love of the diatheke variety is not-so-nice, maybe even better avoided—certainly not to be advocated or taught to the young. You might need to find occupations other than “ministers of a new covenant,” apologists (however reluctant) for the or else.
Unless, of course, your salary is dependent on it, or your social group, or your marriage. The things you taught your kids or your very sense of self. Danger there. Best proceed with caution. Best not proceed at all.
You might have needed to muster Promethean courage—but no. You’ve learned not to play with fire.
Handy table:
Neurochemical universals Across Homo, Pan, Dolphins, Elephants, and Canids
| Behavior | Shared Neurochemicals Across All Lineages | Core Function |
|---|---|---|
| Rescue / Helping | Oxytocin (bonding, care) Endorphins/Dopamine (reward, stress relief) | Reinforces caregiving and prosocial aid toward others in need. |
| Coalition / Alliance Support | Oxytocin (trust, cohesion) Serotonin (impulse control, stable cooperation) | Stabilizes cooperative alliances, reduces risk of betrayal, maintains long-term bonds. |
| Consolation / Empathy | Oxytocin (stress buffering) ACC/insula activation (empathic resonance) | Reduces distress in others and the self; promotes group harmony after conflict. |
| Mourning / Grief Response | Oxytocin (bonding persistence) Cortisol buffering (stress regulation) | Maintains social bonds beyond death, signals the depth of attachment, and strengthens group cohesion. |
| Cooperative Hunting | Dopamine (shared reward) Oxytocin (coordination, trust) | Reinforces group-level success, links food gain to social cooperation. |
| Defection / Cheating | Cortisol (stress, punishment anticipation) Oxytocin withdrawal (bond rupture) ACC conflict (internal tension) | Signals the cost of betrayal, discourages future defection, and regulates group stability. |