As faithful readers know, I'm working on a book, provisionally titled The Orchid and the Dandelion and likely to be published next year, about the orchid-dandelion hypothesis: the notion that genes and traits that underlie some of humans' biggest weaknesses — despair, madness, savage aggression — also underlie some of our greatest strengths — resilience, lasting happiness, empathy. If you're used to the disease model of genes that are associated with mood and behavioral problems, this hypothesis can seem puzzling. The turn lies in viewing problems such as depression, distractibility, or even aggression as downsides of a heightened sensitivity to experience that can also generate assets and contentment.
I first wrote about the orchid-dandelion hypothesis in an Atlantic article two years ago. Last week, New Scientist published a feature I wrote about some of the research I've come across while researching the book. The article is behind a paywall now, so you'll need a subscription to read it; I'll post the whole thing here in a few weeks when the New Scientist exclusive-run period ends. In the meantime, I thought I'd excerpt here a couple passages of particular interest.
One is the opener, which describes how toddlers react to a clever test of their generosity and then lays out the gist of the hypothesis. The other is a multigenic study that sought to expand the hypothesis beyond single-gene candidate-gene studies.
First the toddlers; I couldn't resist any trial this clever — or a treat called Bambas:
As the story describes, this orchid hypothesis has been rapidly gaining ground the last couple years, spreading through developmental and clinical psychology both and making its way into the vernacular. It's also more or less latent in books such as Nassir Ghaemi's fascinating A First-Rate Madness, which looks at how leaders such as Franklin Roosevelt and Winston Churchill seemed to benefit from their depression, and articles such Annie Murphy Paul's "The Upside of Dyslexia," which appeared in last Sunday's New York Times. Even as it expands, however, the hypothesis faces challenges from geneticists who question single-gene explanations of complex behavior or, in some cases, any genetic explanation at this early stage of genetic knowledge. This is a rollicking, rich, eternal conflict I'll deal with more in the book. In the meantime, Jay Belsky, one of the key developers of the orchid hypothesis, ran a simple study in which he looked to see whether having multiple purported 'sensitivity' or 'orchid' genes would render people more sensitive to their environment than people with fewer such variants:
This hints at what draws me to this story: not just an intriguing idea, but also the tension between the parsimonious and the expansive: between limiting scientific explanation only to what it can without any doubt account for and pushing it toward the limits of what it can explain.
This is, of course, just the tip of the iceberg. The rest is in my hard drive, my soft brain, and the ongoing work of the researchers I'm following. Stay tuned.
Orchid children: How bad-news genes came good - 01 February 2012 - New Scientist
The Science of Success aka The Orchid Children - The Atlantic
Image: Dandelion Clock by crows_wood, on Flickr
