I finished Dean Hamer’s the God Gene with an amount of gnashing of teeth. The book is light and easy to read, and seemingly logical until the last two chapters. I’ve begun to tire of books that get to their salient point in the first three chapters and then spend the rest of book not taking the logic further.
The God Gene is exactly one of these books. He proposes his hypothesis, and then goes to prove it. Well, the proof is, in my opinion, as logic as anyone can get it without a experimental sandbox that allows 200,000 years to pass in a second. However, once his final proof has been implemented, he doesn’t take the VMAT2 gene for a ride.
If we are godcoded, where does it take us? Outside the “god exists or doesn’t exist” argument, which Hamer refuses to tackle - a proof such as this could be used as a chain saw - but then he doesn’t take even the most logical discussions that are dealing with with genetic engineering today: should we allow this gene to continue self-propagation?
Importantly, the only tease he does deliver on is separate VMAT2 from religion - VMAT2 is supposed to make us susceptible to religious experiences, to feeling at one-with-the-universe. But he doesn’t address what causes religious asshatosity - in short, he fucking wimps out.
As a man who’s put his entire career at risk by publishing in the field of genetics challenging entire political parties’ dogma, he’s remarkably shy about not committing to the most obvious conclusions of his study. In short, it’s an oriental massage without a happy ending.
My Happy Ending
If there’s a gene that makes someone superiorly empathic with the world, one that transforms a persons behavior from the greedy, selfish cow-consumers that we are into caring entities who want to improve the all-life’s conditions, then why do we have those that believe it’s ok to kill?
Step into my thought experiment:
Once upon a time, Bob was just an average everyday man but after a vicious infection, he suffered from a fever that left him delirious for a day or two. In that delirium, his god gene fired off and he fever-dreamt that he could walk a new path and improved the world - that if other people followed him, the world would be a better place. God, you see, told Bob that by not eating omega-3 and omega-6 fatty acids, the world would be a better place.
Once Bob returned to something that passed for sanity, he thought, “Wow, I gotta tell everyone about my excellent experience.” Bob’s friends listened - well, most wrote him off as a looney, but one or two listened and followed his suggestions. Bob, tho, is a man with a mission and goes forth and spreads the good word about not eating fatty acids. Bob anoints himself as the Great Bobbolama and stops eating. Bob becomes thin, lean and driven with his new diet - he writes a book, creates a website, markets himself effectively. Proceeds from his book, allows him to travel and talk to more people, and everywhere he goes, he’s deliriously thin from the lack of food.
Others see this optimistic guy, who’s traveling and smiling all the time and says, “Wow, he’s so successful.” Some media mogul with a talk show has a last minute opening in her schedule, and lacking for someone credible, invites Bob on. His book hits the markets’ top ten list and suddenly the Great Bobbolama’s a millionaire with an entire industry of people who aren’t eating essential amino acids.
Fat people, who really have no intention of losing weight, buy the book for a brief emotional warm fuzzy feelgood experience. Some of them lose weight for a variety or reasons, but in their mind, the book has made them a better person. These thin and smiling people are plastered on billboards all around the world. One appears to have a modicum of talent and parents stupid enough to sign a contract: she changes her name to Jennifree and a new media teen age popstarlet is born.
And then, some scientist publishes a book countering Bob’s Evil Amino Acid fever-addled theory, informing the world that starving one’s self is not a diet but will kill you. The thin people who aren’t dead yet denounce the scientist, the media invites pundits from both sides, the debate heats up. A has-been teenage media starlet is hospitalized and publicly warns society not to follow Great Bobbolama’s words.
The Great Bobbolama releases a press release inferring Jennifree, who was once his chosen follower, is now a heretic to the cause. Some other no-name schlep, who has been pudgy all his life, decides that killing Jennifree is the only way to get Jodie Foster to notice him.
Bob denounces schleps’ actions, but because he’s stammering from the lack of nutrition, stammers at a crucial moment which the media interprets that he’s secretly pushing his followers to kill non-Bobbite believers. Suddenly the hordes who have starved themselves into stupidity transform into suicidal deathtards bent on destroying all of those that challenge the Great Bobbolama’s words.
The Great Bobbolama, facing a choice of skinny death or surviving as a rich fucking cult leader, decides that sneaking a cheeseburger or two on the side is worth the cause. He officially, and irrevocably denies the deathtard activity because it’s damaging his sales (he’s moved onto an entire line of “The Great Bobbolama Says…” selfhelp books, with videos and celebrity endorsments) - but the damage is done. The cult splinters: the peaceful orthodoxy starvationists and the “I may not be fat, but I’m more loyal than you” aggression monkeys. Both are convinced that they are the one-true-followers of the Great Bobbolama.
After years of aggressive denouncements, and deaths of more media starlets, the Great Bobbolama announces he’s going to mend the rift between the two schisms. The orthodoxy, who’ve literally been starving for this fucker, feel betrayed, and decide it’s better that the Bobbolama die than to kiss and makeup with the aggression monkeys. So, on the eve of the Great Bobbolama’s attempt to heal the rift, his own preisthood kills him, pointing fingers at the other side.
The Power of Belief
I propose that the god gene triggers when a person needs something irrational to believe in when his physical and emotional condition causes himself to doubt the reason he exists. If this irrationality - either denial, just simple stupidity - allows one to appear successful, then others will imitate his/her success. The act of imitation places the original as a prime mover and therefore a position of authority. The pattern of successful branding is predictably repeatable, thus there will be followers. Since followers are human, language imprecise, and half the people in this world are below average intelligence, and people get off on telling other people what to do: some followers will do really stupid things like kill people.
Geez, that was simple - why couldn’t Hamer taken a chapter to say that?
