The Missing Rules

On my continually growing “to-read” list is Nicholas Wade’s book The Origin of Politics: How Evolution and Ideology Shape the Fate of Nations. This book promises to delve into a question that has intrigued me for an extended period: What distinguishes those rules or systems that operate “against human nature” in a manner that is sustainable and advantageous from those that challenge human nature in ways that are fundamentally impractical?

Recently, Wade appeared as a guest on Michael Shermer’s podcast, where he discussed his book. Among various topics, they covered the kibbutz movement—a group of Jewish individuals who strive to live in small, communal settings. A significant aspect of this endeavor was their approach to child-rearing; children were not raised by their parents but lived and were cared for in communal houses. Wade asserts that this approach conflicted with human nature—parents are generally unwilling to relinquish their children to provide equal care for others’ offspring.

In their discussion, Wade made additional observations regarding the outcomes of kibbutz upbringing. He noted our inherent genetic tendency to avoid romantic relationships with siblings, which makes sense. Interestingly, individuals raised in a kibbutz almost never married within their communities. Wade posits that this trend indicates a genetically ingrained aversion to marrying within one’s community, as kibbutz members were treated as siblings due to their shared upbringing. Notably, there was no explicit prohibition against such marriages—suggesting that their avoidance stemmed from genetic predisposition rather than formal rules.

Wade’s assertion that kibbutz members developed this instinct to avoid intra-community relationships due to genetic factors may or may not be accurate. I am not a geneticist, and I feel ill-equipped to comment authoritatively. Nonetheless, I believe Wade’s argument creates a misleading binary. He suggests that if a behavior isn’t driven by explicit rules, it must result from genetic programming. However, there exists another possibility.

While explicit rules are undoubtedly part of social structures, a more substantial influence on our behavior arises from implicit rules. These are often unwritten and unspoken, yet we learn and apply them in our everyday lives. We readily recognize when these rules are violated, even if we cannot articulate their origins. Society commonly accepts certain unspoken norms—what one simply doesn’t do. Moreover, implicit rules can vary significantly across different societies and can shift more rapidly than the slow pace of genetic evolution.

One example of an implicit rule comes to mind, even though I’ve never explicitly acknowledged it until now. In most classrooms from high school onward, seating is officially unassigned. While open seating exists initially, this isn’t the true standard. There’s a brief window when students can freely choose their seats—typically a couple of weeks. After this period, a de facto arrangement is formed, and everyone tends to return to their chosen spots. If I were to occupy the desk where Billy typically sits after the initial weeks, I would breach an unwritten rule, and Billy would rightfully be surprised to find someone in “his” seat.

Wade erred in concluding that the absence of explicit rules implies a genetic basis for behavior. To clarify, I’m not denying the possibility that the avoidance of intra-community marriages among kibbutz members could be genetically influenced, but it might also stem from an implicit social understanding. By limiting human behavior to a framework of only explicit rules and genetic instincts, Wade neglects the significant role of implicit rules that shape our conduct, often to a greater extent than formal regulations.