I have dedicated the last five years of my life to demonstrating this claim, by getting involved in my city of Binghamton and by co-founding the Evolution Institute, the first think tank to formulate public policy from an evolutionary perspective. I also chose to write about my adventures in The Neighborhood Project as they were unfolding, rather than waiting for some kind of final proof. After all, there was an entire paradigm to convey, I was trying to apply evolution to many policy issues at once, and years might be required for any single project to reach fruition. As a result, reviews of The Neighborhood Project almost invariably wish me well, but note with varying degrees of optimism and pessimism that the proof is not yet in.

It is therefore with considerable pride that I can offer proof for one project; a program for at-risk high school students called the Regents Academy that the Binghamton City School District started in 2010 and invited me to help design. My consulting relationship with the School District began in 2006 and has led to several academic publications, but this was my first opportunity to help build a program from the ground up, using my evolutionary toolkit.

To help launch the magazine, we are trying to raise $5000 through Kickstarter, which will be used to support the central office and purchase equipment for video and audio recording. Contribute $50 or more and get a cool t-shirt with this logo designed by illustrator Kevin Cannon. Pledge $80 or more and we'll record a videocast with you, so that you can share what evolution means to your view of life.

With one major exception, Sociobiology was regarded as a triumph. The main bone of contention among evolutionists who studied social behavior concerned ownership. Other authors had the same vision, and even used the term sociobiology, but none of them had Wilson's gift for branding new fields of inquiry.

The exception, of course, involved the inclusion of our own species within the new synthesis. The single chapter that Wilson devoted to this subject resulted in a storm of controversy. It might seem that the battle might pit evolutionary biologists against human-oriented scientists and scholars bent on preserving their cherished notion of human uniqueness, but that's not what happened. Instead, the charge against Wilson, a Harvard professor, was led by two other evolutionary biologists at Harvard, Stephen Jay Gould and Richard Lewontin, whose academic specialties were paleontology and population genetics, respectively.

Therein lies the problem. When Jerry steps out of his role of practicing scientist and into his role of spokesman about evolution for the general public, it's like Clark Kent transforming into Superman. Suddenly he's an authority on every subject and rounding up the criminals who don't agree with him left and right.

So it is with Jerry Coyne on the topic of group selection. Jerry is a highly respected evolutionist who writes for the general public in his book Why Evolution Is True and his blog of the same name. When it comes to his research area of speciation, Jerry is a world-class authority. He's also a staunch defender of evolution against creationism and its born-again cousin, intelligent design. When it comes to the topic of group selection, however, he hasn't written a single paper and there's little evidence that he's read the literature. Yet, that doesn't prevent him from holding forth on the topic and scolding others like a schoolteacher wagging his finger at truant students who haven't learned their lesson.

I use my personal odyssey as a narrative vehicle, but The Neighborhood Project is written as much for my academic colleagues as for the general public. Some of the foundational issues that I address include rethinking evolutionary psychology, cultural change as an evolutionary process, evolution as a new paradigm for economic policy, and how the meaning systems of the future can combine the best of current-day science and religion.

A mug with a crow on it--the species that Anne studies--gets paired with Coast Guard mug bearing a quote from one of my father's books. An earthenware mug with a fox on it--which Anne doesn't study--is nevertheless used only by Anne and is paired with an earthenware pot bellied mug that is used only be me. Other mugs aren't used at all, especially the glazed ones without images. Past favorites with their handles broken line the back of the shelf. We don't use them, but we don't get rid of them. Why?

All branches of knowledge should ideally be consistent with each other, but every branch need not be consulted for the study of any particular branch. I rarely feel the need to consult quantum physics when I study evolution, and perhaps evolution rarely needs to be consulted for the study of many traits, in humans and nonhumans alike.

It's true that each of Tinbergen's four questions can be studied in isolation, but the essence of his essay describing the evolutionary perspective is that they are best studied in conjunction with each other. Moreover, what's true for an individual is not true for an entire discipline, as I discussed for the study of proximate mechanisms in the previous post. I therefore conclude that all four reasons for ignoring the E-word fail to pass muster after they have been respectfully considered. Tinbergen's four-question approach needs to be applied to any sizeable human-related subject, just as for any sizeable subject in the biological sciences.

I would like to think that a consensus can be quickly achieved on this matter, but a recent exchange on the relevance of evolution for the field of social psychology indicates that a consensus is a long way off. The exchange appeared on the Edge website in response to an essay on social psychology by Timothy D. Wilson, who happens to be my cousin. Tim included some comments on evolutionary psychology in his essay, which moved Steve Pinker to reply and Dan Gilbert and Hugo Mercier to join the fray. It is worth examining Tim's essay and the exchange in detail, because it represents the state of play at the highest level of expertise. If these folks can't agree on what evolution has to do with it, a broader consensus is indeed a long way off.

A reasonable research strategy is to study what is, without worrying much about how it got that way. After all, something like the brain is available to be studied in minute detail, whereas how it got that way is more speculative. Why speculate when we can study the real thing?

This statement can be true in a limited sense. All of Tinbergen's questions can be studied independently, including questions about proximate mechanisms. Insofar as science involves division of labor, individual scientists can spend their entire careers studying proximate mechanisms without thinking about the other three questions.

The concept of design long predates the concept of evolution. The fact that an object or process is well designed for a purpose can be established without knowing about the designing process. An insect that mimics a leaf is well designed to avoid detection by predators. Who cares if it is a product of evolution or a supernatural agent?

Reasoning on the basis of design is so powerful, and we are intuitively so good at it, that it is a likely candidate for a genetically evolved adaptation. We employ it all the time in everyday life, especially when interpreting each other's behavior. We also employ it erroneously all the time, as when we agonize over why a natural disaster happened, as if there must be a reason beyond purely physical causes. Belief in supernatural agents is often attributed to our wanton tendency to think in terms of agency, even when it isn't justified.

Niko wrote an elegant paper in 1963 titled "On the Aims and Methods of Ethology" that summarizes, in the form of four questions, why evolutionary theory is so good at integrating across disciplines. Tinbergen's four questions go a long way toward answering the question "What's evolution got to do with it?"