Categorie: Podium Pieces

An Evaluative Application of Donaldson and Kymlicka’s Citizenship Framework to Human Intervention and Management of Non-Humans in Gene Drive Engineering

Introduction

Increasing interest in methods of conserving non-human animals has emerged in light of the ever-growing Red List of Endangered Species. The Red List appraises each species on a series of standards in its scientific approach, ranging from population decrease within ten years to decreases in the size of their (local) population area (Hogeback 2023). This appraisal determines a statistical prediction of whether the species will become extinct within the next 20 years. As a result, the utilisation of genetic engineering techniques has gained significant attention due to their potential to address the challenges of conservation by tackling issues raising the number of predictions.

As the Red List expands, new and innovative methods of genetic modification are explored by scientists, policymakers and ethicists. One of these methods is gene drive engineering. Characterised by their ability to alter the genetic makeup of species through biological inheritance, gene drives present a particularly interesting approach to conservation. While traditional methods of conservation rely on natural selection to spread desired genetic traits, gene drive mechanisms bias the inheritance process, ensuring that certain traits are passed onto offspring. Therefore, by targeting certain genetic traits, such as disease susceptibility and reproduction capability, gene drives offer the potential to significantly change conservation practices.

However, the use of gene drive technology raises various ethical considerations that must be addressed carefully. Many of these considerations stem from a debate in animal rights theory on whether humans should intervene in the livelihoods of non-human species. In the case of gene drive engineering, this debate is especially relevant since the method affects the species directly, as opposed to the traditional conservation efforts that affect their surrounding environments. The method raises the question of whether non-human animals should be left alone or if humans owe them moral obligations to help actively keep more species off the Red List.

It is also worthwhile to consider to which animal species, if any, humans owe moral obligations. This is especially the case for positive obligations, whereby humans actively intervene in efforts to help other species. Although traditional animal rights perspectives may advocate for preventing human intervention in wild animals’ livelihoods (Gamborg, Palmer, and Sandoe 2012), this approach can be considered unhelpful in gene drive discussions insofar as it provides no criteria constituting what makes an animal “wild”. Many species choose to live in close proximity to humans, benefitting from human communities while holding a status distinct from wild and domesticated animals. Since the obligations humans owe to them may differ, it is essential to explore a framework addressing the concerns that arise from the human management of non-humans.

Furthermore, core political dimensions are at play in the ethical considerations of gene drive engineering. In investigating the relationship between climate and animal ethics, human interference and obligations to others, Donaldson and Kymlicka’s citizenship framework should be consulted. As influential authors in animal rights fields, they offer a reconceptualisation of citizenship theory that includes the role of non-human animals in political communities. Their citizenship framework can be applied to the case of human interference via gene drives, resulting in a reflection on its usefulness in navigating the method’s complexities given the urgency of the Red List’s expansion.

This paper aims to examine the ethical dimensions of the prospective conservation method, focussing on insights from ethics, ecology and conservation biology. The examination will demonstrate these complex dimensions in terms of human interference and obligations to other species. It will first provide an overview of gene drive modification, analysing its capabilities and prospects. Following the analysis, the paper will explore the consequences gene drives can have on the target species alongside the ecosystems and communities in which they live. Next, Donaldson and Kymlicka’s extension of animal rights via citizenship theory will be consulted, reflecting on the moral obligations owed to different groups of non-human animals. Their conceptualisation of animal citizenship will then be used as a lens through which the themes of intercommunity interaction, agency and responsibility can be applied to gene drive inquiry. This exploration will lead to the conclusion that Donaldson and Kymlicka’s framework provides a nuanced approach to intervention that is useful in navigating gene drive ethics insofar as humans have different, complex responsibilities to different kinds of animals.

Exploring Gene Drives and Their Ethical Dimensions

Due to the rapid expansion of the Red List of Endangered Species, biologists and ethicists alike have begun to consider modifying the gene sequences of species in order to conserve or increase endangered populations. A particularly intriguing variation of this research concerns gene drives, defined as “systems of biased inheritance in which the ability of a genetic element to pass from a parent to its offspring through sexual reproduction is enhanced” (National Academies of Science, Engineering, and Medicine 2016, 15). Therefore, gene drive technology aims to spread a desired trait throughout a species’ population through reproduction, ranging from decreased disease susceptibility to the decreased reproduction of invasive species.

The attractiveness of gene drives is found in their ability to offer new strategies for conservation when other methods are ineffective. For instance, a study conducted by Antoni Margalida outlines the use of supplementary feeding strategies in rearing bearded vulture chicks, a Red List species, in the Spanish Pyrenees. Despite his research demonstrating a widespread use of supplementary food provisions in the conservation of scavenger species (Margalida 2010, 673), the strategy was ineffective in increasing the success of rearing the chicks. Margalida concludes his research paper by considering the application of other conservation strategies whereby humans intervene in the procuring of necessary resources for the bearded vultures’ wellbeing. Nevertheless, the proposed functions of gene drive engineering could be beneficial in efforts to optimise the chicks’ survival. Since the technology promises to be “effective in reaching the entirety” of a target-specific population (Sandler 2019, 223), gene drives are considered a potentially groundbreaking conservation method.

Furthermore, a feature unique to gene drive engineering is the use of modification technology (such as CRISPR) to actively copy a fabricated mutation from one individual’s chromosome to its partner chromosome (Caplan et al. 2015, 1422). This process means that almost all of a parent’s offspring will inherit the same mutation (desired trait). In contrast, other forms of genetic modification modify only one chromosome (Esvelt and Gemmell 2017, 3), resulting in a 50:50 chance of inheritance. Over generations, this continuous inheritance would significantly alter the population of a species, also impacting other species that rely on it for sustenance.

Gene drives entail the biased inheritance of a selected genetic trait, meaning that its likelihood of passing from a parent to its offspring is optimal. In order to better understand the methods that could benefit the conservation of Red List species like the bearded vulture, an exploration of research conducted by The National Academies of Science, Engineering, and Medicine will prove useful. In a collaborative publication, researchers from the association explain that gene drives offer two key population control methods. The first of these methods is called population replacement, which refers to the “spread of a genetic element through a population that causes a population’s genotype to change” (The National Academies of Science, Engineering, and Medicine 2016, 16). Consequently, a species is “replaced” because its genetic makeup changes as new generations carry the desired mutation. This method could be applied to projects like the conservation of bearded vultures in the Spanish Pyrenees by optimising chicks’ digestive systems in attempts to decrease the (hatchling) mortality rate.

On the other hand, the second method is called population suppression, referring to the “spread of a genetic element that causes the number of individuals in a population to decrease” (The National Academies of Science, Engineering, and Medicine 2016, 16). With this method, the biased trait inherited by a parent’s offspring may be maleness, for instance, resulting in decreased overall fertility of a population. Population suppression aims to decrease the population of invasive species in an effort to conserve local biodiversity. Therefore, the application of gene drive engineering to endangered and invasive species is a crucial development that proposes to effectively target an entire local population of a species.

Nonetheless, a series of ethical questions arise in discussions surrounding the use of gene drive engineering. For decades, animal rights theorists have debated whether “wildlife policy” (Gamborg, Palmer, and Sandoe 2012), guidelines for human interference in non-human livelihoods, should leave non-domesticated animals alone. In particular, many traditional animal rights perspectives have argued that humans have no right or duty to manage non-domesticated animals. In this view, animals have shared capacities with humans, such as the ability to feel pain or self-sustain, implying their ownership of moral rights. Hence, they maintain that animals possess the (moral) right to live without human meddling, as seen in confinement, culling, and other forms of management.

However, in debates concerning the extent of human interference in non-human livelihoods, “respect for nature” perspectives have also emerged (Gamborg, Palmer and Sandoe 2012). This view often advocates for human interference insofar as it protects the integrity of an ecosystem. It also maintains that species’ moral significance depends on “how far they promote or threaten the key environmental values at stake” (Gamborg, Palmer and Sandoe 2012). Thus, while traditional animal rights theorists argue that humans should not interfere with non-domesticated animals, other perspectives maintain that a species may be protected or culled depending on how it alters the perceived value of its ecosystem. Since the new gene drive technology places a focus on target species themselves instead of conditions affecting the species, it is important to consider the potential consequences of interacting with non-human communities.

In their research report, Caplan et al. claim that manipulating non-human species’ genes could have detrimental effects, “not all of which concern only humans, but also other species and the environment” (Caplan et al. 2015, 1421). Consequently, the human interference and management of (non-domesticated) species have crucial implications for the ecosystems in which they live. Alongside the target species, gene drives have the potential to disrupt the livelihoods of many others due to the impact of population suppression on food webs, for instance. The research report also demonstrates that several academic centres and private biotechnology labs have started to investigate the reduction of some insect species’ lifespans and reproduction in efforts to prevent the spread of diseases they may carry to humans (Caplan et al. 2015, 1422). While humans may consider these insects pests, one must also consider the consequences of reducing their populations for species that rely on them as food sources. Therefore, although this approach to gene editing appears useful at first glance, one must consider its impact on communities other than humans.

Another concern raised by these researchers regards oversight of the modification and release of genetically edited organisms. Specifically, they draw on the necessity of effectively monitoring organisms edited by gene drive technology. Claiming that the current framework for international regulations fails to “foster public trust in the safety” of the technology (Caplan et al. 2015, 1422), they are sceptical about the management of genetically modified organisms in the wild. Their concern further highlights the stakes of the debate on whether humans should interfere with non-human livelihoods, especially when the capabilities and usefulness of human management are questionable.

Therefore, developments in gene drive research bring forth a host of ethical discussions surrounding human intervention and management of other species. Notably, one must question whether humans have responsibilities to maintain in their interactions with non-human communities, and if so, which framework could be applied in this case. While traditional animal rights theorists have long debated the extent of human involvement with non-domesticated species, gene drives entail the direct management of the target species instead of their surrounding environments. Due to this development, a more nuanced conceptual framework is needed.

Donaldson and Kymlicka’s Citizenship Framework and Its Relevance to Gene Drives

Sue Donaldson and Will Kymlicka’s Zoopolis (2011) is considered a widely influential contemporary work in the domain of animal rights theory. Considering the intersection of moral obligations and the various ways non-human animals relate to human societies, they offer a political approach to animal ethics. In doing so, they reflect on “relationships of cooperation, of collective self-government and of histories of interaction and injustice” (Donaldson and Kymlicka 2015). Their ideas are relevant to ethical discussions surrounding gene drives due to the complexity of interspecies relations at play. Nonetheless, before one can apply Donaldson and Kymlicka’s work to the ethical dilemmas of gene drive engineering, a broadened understanding of the connection between citizenship theory and animal ethics in their work is necessary.

An important point of analysis concerns Donaldson and Kymlicka’s conceptualisation of citizenship. In Zoopolis (2011), they begin their discussion of animal rights and citizenship theory by distinguishing between universal (human) rights and citizenship rights. The former, universal rights, do not depend on an individual’s relationship to a particular political community (Donaldson and Kymlicka 2011, 52). Consider an example of passengers disembarking from a plane to illustrate this concept. When the passengers leave the plane, everyone has certain foundational rights, such as the right not to be enslaved and the right not to be killed.

Nonetheless, some passengers, such as tourists, are temporary visitors to the country. These passengers do not have an “unqualified right to enter the country” insofar as they may have needed permission to enter, and they may not have permission to settle permanently (Donaldson and Kymlicka 2011, 51). Similarly, the destination country is not obligated to adapt their political institutions to accommodate the temporary visitors. On the other hand, citizenship rights are dependent on an individual’s relationship to a particular political community. Citizens are the passengers who disembark the aircraft with the unqualified right to enter and reside in the destination country. In this sense, once they enter, citizens are “full and equal members of the political community” (Donaldson and Kymlicka 2011, 51). This means that their concerns and opinions play an equal part in determining what is considered to be the public good. Thus, one always has universal rights regardless of their location and relationship to a particular political community. Nonetheless, one only has citizenship rights when they are situated within a political community in which they are a member.

However, Donaldson and Kymlicka’s extension of animal rights via citizenship theory emphasises that the analogy of passengers disembarking the plane is an oversimplification of reality. While it paints a clear picture of what is meant by “universal rights” and “citizenship rights”, the authors imply that the rigid categories of citizen and non-citizen do not reflect reality. In a later publication, they expand on this notion, claiming that there are “various ‘in-between’ categories of people who are more than mere visitors but not (or not yet) citizens” (2015). For instance, immigrants may receive residence permits for long-term stays in a country. In this case, they have a different political standing from temporary visitors despite not having citizenship. Yet, they also have a different political standing from citizens. Nonetheless, despite categorisations of citizens, non-citizens, and those in between, an underlying principle within Donaldson and Kymlicka’s Zoopolis is that “universal human rights under-determines one’s legal rights and political status” (2015).

Donaldson and Kymlicka apply their understanding of citizens, non-citizens, and those in between to animal rights. Like humans, they suggest that the moral standing of non-human animals under-determines the rights humans owe to them. Nevertheless, they maintain that the rights owed to animals “will vary with the types of relationships they have with human communities” (2015). Aiming to demonstrate that a framework of citizenship theory can be applied to animal rights, Donaldson and Kymlicka propose three descriptions of animals that will prove useful in distinguishing the characteristics of a citizen. The first description concerns animals who are fellow citizens of a (human) political community. The two authors explain that these animals have the right to reside in and return to the shared political community while also having the right to the inclusion of their interests in determining the public good (2011, 53). Animals that are fellow citizens tend to be domesticated animals due to the intimacy and proximity of their relations with humans.

Next, Donaldson and Kymlicka describe animals who are citizens of their own separate communities, situated in their own bounded territories that are not shared with humans. In regard to these animals, the main obligation humans have towards them is “to comply with fair terms of intercommunity interaction” (Donaldson and Kymlicka 2011, 58), meaning that humans should not intervene in the framework of their community. Therefore, Donaldson and Kymlicka maintain that animals that are members of their own separate communities are generally considered wild animals, vulnerable to “human invasion and colonization” (Nurse and Ryland 2013, 203).

Lastly, the third description concerns animals that are residents of the human political community without being full citizens. Donaldson and Kymlicka claim that the main obligation humans have towards them is “to respect their rights as side-constraints on how we pursue our public good” (2011, 53). These animals may be described as “liminal opportunist animals” (Nurse and Ryland 2013, 203) due to their choice to move in or out of areas of human habitation. Thus, Donaldson and Kymlicka provide three descriptions of animals that function as the basis on which non-humans can be included in the political framework of citizenship theory.

Moreover, a significant feature considered to be a characteristic of citizenship in the theory is political agency. Donaldson and Kymlicka claim that if they “accepted that animals are incapable of domestic political agency, it would not follow that citizenship theory is irrelevant to thinking about their rights” (2011, 53). In this sense, political agency is not a criterion of citizenship; it is one of several features. However, they maintain that animals can be capable of political agency, reconceptualising the term as a “cluster of values” (2011, 53) such as autonomy, trust, authenticity and self-determination. In this regard, acknowledging someone’s citizenship means respecting these values.

Donaldson and Kymlicka also endorse animal or human citizenship through a “‘dependent’, ‘assisted’ or ‘interdependent’ agency” (2011, 60). This form of agency offers an inclusive perspective on the values it entails. One may reflect on moments in which everybody is, at some point, in need of assisted agency. For example, young children need assisted agency to help them understand new phenomena and express their frustrations. This form of agency can range from the explanation of political debates to the expression of trust seen in puppy training classes. Consequently, Donaldson and Kymlicka argue that a notion of citizenship should uphold the value of agency while also acknowledging that “capacities for agency expand and contract over time” (2011, 60). Hence, agency is not a rigid criterion of citizenship. Instead, it unravels through one’s interactions with others.

Overall, Donaldson and Kymlicka’s application of citizenship theory to political animal rights provides an interesting foundation for exploring the ethical dimensions of gene drive engineering. Notably, their argumentation can serve as a framework for understanding the status of individuals in relation to a political community. In the context of gene drive engineering, the manipulation of non-human animals raises questions about the rights and ethical considerations owed to them. An especially relevant reflection includes Donaldson and Kymlicka’s three descriptions of animals: fellow citizens of a political community, citizens of their own separate communities, and those who may be residents of a political community without full citizenship. A fruitful discussion of this conceptualisation in the ethics of gene drive engineering can consider potential differences in obligations towards animals based on which of the three descriptions fits them best.

Similarly, Donaldson and Kymlicka’s emphasis on the role of political agency is also relevant to ethical discussions about gene drives. Since they acknowledge that an animal may require a form of assisted agency, one may consider applying it to genetic modifications in cases such as reducing disease susceptibility. Alongside this, an evaluation of the ethical concerns surrounding gene drive engineering may consider the modification’s impact on an animal’s autonomy, trust, self-determination, etc. Since these are some of the values that constitute political agency, a discussion of how it may influence human intervention is relevant.

Applying Donaldson and Kymlicka’s Citizenship Framework to Human Intervention via Gene Drives

When applying Donaldson and Kymlicka’s citizenship framework to human intervention via gene drives, it is useful to consider the ethical implications of directly managing each of the three animal categories. Since they maintain that wild non-citizens, (non-human) citizens, and liminal residents without citizenship are owed different moral obligations, the degree of intervention permitted may differ. Therefore, their framework can help unravel whether managing non-humans in gene drive modification is too intrusive and, if not, when it may be an ethically viable option.

Donaldson and Kymlicka suggest that wild animals neither want nor need an active relationship with humans, especially not the direct management of their livelihoods. As a result, they advocate for wild animal sovereignty, which means that wild animals are free of human management insofar as they meet their own social and sustenance needs. Nonetheless, the authors provide a more nuanced view than the traditional animal rights approaches arguing that humans should leave wild animals alone entirely. At the same time, their view is more considerate of animals’ universal rights than the “respect for nature” perspectives that endorse the management of non-humans based on their own ideas of an ecosystem’s worth (Gamborg, Palmer, and Sandoe 2012). Notably, the authors claim that the question one should ask is: “what are the appropriate sorts of relations between human and wild animal communities?” (Donaldson and Kymlicka 2011, 166). In this sense, they do not believe that there should not be any relationships between humans and wild animals at all. Yet, they also do not support an active relationship that manages and may ultimately affect their capabilities to self-sustain. Thus, Donaldson and Kymlicka provide an approach to human intervention that considers the intricacy of the balance between meddling and conservation.

Additionally, they claim that although humans should be careful in justifying interference with non-human communities, “this does not mean that all conservation interventions are illegitimate” (Donaldson and Kymlicka 2011, 180). Consequently, their framework aspires to provide a conceptual lens through which humans recognise that they have no right to dominate animal territories while acknowledging that they may react to urgent circumstances, such as a species’ addition to the Red List. Therefore, one could apply this notion to gene drive modification by considering it a potential last resort. The nature of gene drives is more intrusive than other conservation methods as it affects the target animals directly. Despite this intrusiveness, the framework may be compatible with using population replacement gene drive modification in dire wild animal cases whereby other conservation strategies are either unsuccessful or do not achieve results fast enough. One could argue this is the case in Margalida’s study of rearing bearded vulture chicks (2010).

Furthermore, within Donaldson and Kymlicka’s framework, domesticated animals are the only non-humans considered fellow citizens to humans. Although they reflect on how domestication has been historically exploitative (2011, 88), domesticated animals have formed co-dependent interspecies relationships with humans that are compatible with co-citizenship. Their domestication has caused them to adapt to human society, which “closes off their alternatives” (Nurse and Ryland 2013, 203). Thus, in Donaldson and Kymlicka’s framework, their preferences should be considered in the determination of the public good. While non-human animals cannot vote in elections, for instance, their active presence in a community suggests that they have a moral status that deserves equal consideration to all other (human) citizens. As citizenship entails active participation in a political community, domesticated animals have responsibilities to humans, too, such as the responsibility (to be trained) not to bite them. This notion reflects the equal standing of domestic animals in a community.

Therefore, following the conceptualisation of domesticated animals as citizens in (human) political communities, one must question whether gene drives could permissibly be used to optimise the genetic makeup of a fellow citizen. As Donaldson and Kymlicka argue that not all conservation methods are illegitimate, the same line of argumentation could be applied to one’s fellow citizens, regardless of species. Donaldson and Kymlicka hold that “new models of ‘dependent agency’ or ‘supported decision-making’” are required (2011, 59) when considering an animal’s best interests in topics like gene drive engineering. They refute outdated models such as paternalistic guardianship whereby a human will make decisions about an animal such as their pet. Instead, they advocate for updated models that seek ways of “eliciting a person’s sense of their subjective good, often through ‘embodied’ rather than verbal communication” (2011, 59).

Similarly, human citizens also require assisted or dependent agency, such as when suffering from illness. In these situations, loved ones often make decisions on behalf of an individual, upholding Donaldson and Kymlicka’s values of agency, such as trust, which unravel in their relationships. A similar circumstance may occur for domesticated animals, such as genetically modifying dogs carrying the canine parvovirus – a genetic virus “quickly spread among dog populations all over the world with high morbidity” (Li et al. 2017). In this case, the nature of dogs’ subjective good within a political community is discovered through learning their temperaments in unravelling interspecies relations with them. Assisted agency could be applied, meaning that a human may choose to use population replacement gene drives, removing the parvovirus carrier gene to ensure the health of generations of dogs with whom they work and interact.

However, while animal citizens of (human) political communities have responsibilities towards humans and vice versa, animals in their own external communities also have relationships with each other. Donaldson and Kymlicka argue that humans must “comply with fair terms of intercommunity interaction” (2011, 58). This principle should apply to both wild and liminal non-citizens, even when humans may not fully understand their intricate relationships with each other. Thus, one may argue that gene drives can potentially disrupt the frameworks of non-human communities, regardless of how their internal relations manifest. This is especially the case in population suppression gene drives since the decision to decrease a species’ local population threatens the target and all other species with which it interacts. In a risk assessment of gene drive engineering, research from the International Risk Governance Center demonstrates that the (re)introduction of a modified species can impact the health of other animal and plant species (Kuzma 2023, 55). Consequently, human interference in non-human livelihoods via gene drives does not comply with the intercommunity interaction terms established by Donaldson and Kymlicka. This is because the terms suggest that humans have no right to alter the structures and relationships between beings in communities where they are not members.

The dilemma gene drives face in the terms of fair intercommunity interaction is also echoed in the research report of Caplan et al. (2015). Suppose humans are permitted to intervene in non-human communities using gene drives. In that case, their management capabilities must be adequate to avoid disrupting the constitution of ecosystems, at least to some extent. Nonetheless, the report demonstrates that many national and international regulations are insufficient in addressing the impact of genetically modifying organisms on other species within their ecosystems (Caplan et al. 2015, 1422). Consequently, one may argue that human regulatory bodies must strive to improve the effectiveness of their management before the application of gene drives to any non-citizen animals becomes compatible with Donaldson and Kymlicka’s citizenship framework. This conclusion is important because although the potential application of gene drives to domesticated animals may uphold mutual agency in cases such as canine parvovirus, almost all Red List species are non-domesticated (Hogeback 2023). Thus, their citizenship framework is useful because its applications can help identify additional work needed to ensure humans do not overstep the boundaries of fair intercommunity interaction in conservation.

Meanwhile, discussions surrounding human intervention in liminal non-citizen livelihoods may be considered even more complex. Liminal animals hold a political status in between that of citizens and non-citizens since they depend on human communities to some extent, e.g., for food sources, but do not actively interact with humans. Consequently, this limited degree of dependence means humans must “respect their rights as side-constraints on how we pursue our public good” (Donaldson and Kymlicka 2011, 53). In considering the extent of intervention via gene drives, it is difficult to determine whether humans may modify liminal animals to optimise their health, as one may allow in the case of domesticated animals, or to treat gene drives as a potential last resort, as argued in the case of Red Listed wild animals. In addressing this dilemma, one may consult a response to other liminal animal dilemmas like predation, as seen in a journal article by Andrée-Anne Cormier and Mauro Rossi (2016).

In their discussion of liminal animals, Cormier and Rossi demonstrate some assumptions made by Donaldson and Kymlicka in their framework. The first relevant to human intervention via gene drives is that liminal animals choose to avoid humans. The second assumption is that they would prefer the risks posed by other species and their environments to restrictions of liberty (Cormier and Rossi 2016, 731). In response to these assumptions, Cormier and Rossi claim that liminal animals’ aversion to human intervention loses moral weight when their fundamental, universal rights are at stake (2016, 732). As Donaldson and Kymlicka intend to include animals in the human citizenship framework, they should be treated in the same way as humans. In particular, Donaldson and Kymlicka liken liminal species to human denizens (Donaldson and Kymlicka 2011; Cormier and Rossi 2016) – long-term residents settled within a state’s borders while not possessing citizenship. Yet, even for human denizen groups that opt out of political membership, the state may intervene in managing threats to their safety and livelihoods. In this sense, like wild animals, one may consider using gene drives as a last resort in conserving endangered liminal species.

However, Cormier and Rossi’s article discusses predation, which entails a host of dilemmas concerning the risks some species pose to others. As a result, they identify the incompatibility of Donaldson and Kymlicka’s framework with interventions to prevent one non-human animal from harming another due to the notion that liminal (and wild) animals are capable of navigating observable risks in their own communities. This incompatibility is arguably reflected in applying their framework to population suppression gene drives since they include the reduction of populations considered invasive and posing risks to other species, human or otherwise. Nevertheless, it does not mean the citizenship framework is also incompatible with population replacement gene drives.

As seen in their potential to optimise domesticated animal citizens’ health and to aid the conservation of non-citizen Red List species as a last resort, population replacement gene drives appear to fit into Donaldson and Kymlicka’s framework. Since the method tackles often unobservable and genetic risks to animals that may not be instinctively detected in the way pigeons may evade cats, it is not plausible to rule out population replacement alongside population suppression. Thus, although the potential applications of population replacement should differ between citizens and non-citizens, Donaldson and Kymlicka offer a nuanced framework that helps navigate a discussion on the degrees of human intervention for animals with different political statuses in light of the expanding Red List and other risks to non-human health.

Conclusion

In conclusion, Donaldson and Kymlicka’s citizenship framework, applied to the ethical dimensions of human intervention via gene drive engineering, offers valuable insights into the intricate relationships between humans and animals. In analysing their framework, this paper explores the moral obligations owed to different categories of non-human animals and the ways in which these apply to the potential use of gene drives.

Within Zoopolis (2011), the authors distinguish three categories of animals: fellow citizens, wild animal citizens of separate sovereign communities, and liminal residents. By analysing the rights and responsibilities associated with each category, one can develop a nuanced understanding of the extent to which human intervention via gene drives may be ethically permissible. While (population replacement) gene drives may be considered respectful of these rights when optimising domesticated animals’ health or as a last resort for conserving Red List species, the framework suggests that interventions should be carefully weighed against the autonomy of non-human animals.

Furthermore, it is important to consider the concept of political agency within Donaldson and Kymlicka’s framework and its relevance to gene drive ethics. By acknowledging that animals possess political agency, although different from human agency, one must recognise the importance of respecting their interests and subjective good in decision-making processes. This perspective demonstrates the need for inclusive models of decision-making that allow a reflection on the livelihoods of non-human animals affected by gene drive interventions that move beyond domination and paternal guardianship.

Nonetheless, further complexities must be explored when applying this framework to gene drive technology, particularly concerning fair intercommunity interaction and the potential disruption of non-human communities. While gene drives offer conservation methods that can affect entire populations, they also pose significant risks to ecosystem integrity and the liberty of non-human species. Donaldson and Kymlicka’s framework is useful in discussing these complexities because it acknowledges that there is no singular, fixed answer to questions surrounding human intervention. Therefore, the extent of this intervention must differ for different groups of animals, following the various degrees to which they interact with human communities.

Meanwhile, the type of intervention is important, too. Gene drives may be considered more intrusive than other conservation strategies, as they affect the target species rather than its surrounding environment. Consequently, the citizenship framework is incompatible with population suppression gene drives. For Donaldson and Kymlicka, one must respect that (wild and liminal) animals are capable of navigating observable risks in their own communities. Alternatively, population replacement gene drives appear to be compatible with Donaldson and Kymlicka’s approach, given their potential to optimise domesticated animal citizens’ health and to aid the conservation of non-citizen Red List species as a last resort. Nonetheless, this compatibility requires that a more effective regulatory framework is developed to avoid as much disruption to ecosystems as possible.

Overall, Donaldson and Kymlicka’s citizenship framework provides a useful conceptual lens for navigating the ethical complexities of human intervention with non-human species in gene drive engineering. By emphasising the importance of respecting the rights owed in various political communities, the framework encourages a nuanced approach in light of the expanding Red List and other risks to non-human health.

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Introduction

Cultural evolution is a notion that describes social practices and beliefs as continually changing. While humans are in a continuous process of biological evolution, their sociocultural practices are also transforming. Particularly, practices of puritanical morality are changing due to cultural evolution. These are practices whereby one’s actions align with cultural standards of what is considered pure. Puritanical morality can be understood as a double-sided coin, with ideas about what is pure and good on one side, and ideas about what is disgusting and bad on the flip side. This paper will focus on the impact cultural evolution has on puritanical morality while also acknowledging variations in the way it manifests in different cultures across the globe. This is a topic of interest in contemporary society because it entails discussions about how different societies have different practices and why those who are not a member of a society may not understand the purpose of these practices.

A notable change to puritanical morality is the decline of its presence in Western societies. Cultural evolutionary theorists like Fitouchi, André and Baumard have proposed possible explanations for why Western practices are no longer, or significantly less, puritanical. However, in their explanation, the three co-authors propose that Western societies no longer need puritanical morality to remain orderly. They present the argument that Western culture has evolved, changing individuals’ psychologies to the extent that they are more disciplined than those of other societies. Consequently, this paper will argue that their approach towards non-Western societies is needlessly ethnocentric[1]. In doing so, an alternative approach will be formulated, conceptualising puritanical morality as a form of conventionality and, therefore, a single descriptor of cultural variation that does not make any society more advanced than another.

Therefore, this paper will begin with an examination of Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s approach to the fall of Western puritanical morality. In analysing the implicit assumptions made by these theorists, criticism of their argumentation will be formulated. Next, this paper will consider what exactly is meant by “puritanical morality”, resulting in the claim that it is a form of conventionality consisting of social norms. After establishing that puritanical morality practices are (often) not moral in an objective, righteous sense, this paper will explore the alternative account of declining Western puritanical morality. This exploration will include an explanation of why this approach overcomes the issues raised about Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s view, ultimately leading to the conclusion that cultural evolution has brought differing norms and practices to all societies, whereby none can be considered better than others.

The Fall of Puritanical Morality in the West

In order to investigate the perceived fall of puritanical morality practices in Western societies, one may consider the explanation proposed by Fitouchi, André and Baumard in their 2022 paper addressing the topic. Their publication, “Moral disciplining: The cognitive and evolutionary foundations of puritanical morality” (2022), reflects on the function of puritanical values in contemporary societies. They consider the extent of this function to vary from one society to another over time, resulting in the argument that specifically Western societies no longer need puritanical morality.

Nonetheless, before an accurate analysis of Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s explanation can be formulated, one must first examine what they consider to be puritanical morality. In the aforementioned paper, they describe puritanism as moral concerns “governing domains as various as sex, food, clothing, self-discipline, entertainments, and ritual observance” (2022, 6). In this sense, one’s mode of living may be significantly affected by the puritanical values upheld in the societal context in which they are situated. They also define puritanical morality as a strict, self-disciplinary “moralization of apparently victimless pleasures that humans crave” (2022, 4). Hence, people may desire to partake in some behaviours but abstain because the behaviour runs contrary to a moral sense of righteousness or purity.

Though, it is important to note that the rejection of many supposed cravings is historically present in most societies. Despite the seemingly negligible overlap in domains such as food and clothing, Fitouchi, André and Baumard refer to studies suggesting that over 80% of the world’s population adheres to the same puritanical values (2022, 6). This statistic is demonstrated by the use of religious and spiritual communities as examples. These are considered contexts where many puritanical values co-occur despite the domains in which they govern having little to no compositional overlap. Meanwhile, research conducted by Curry, Mullins and Whitehouse implies that seven values are believed to be morally good worldwide. They propose that some well-established, universal forms of cooperation result in these seven morals: family values, group loyalty, reciprocity, bravery, respect, fairness, and property rights (2019, 48). Their research further supports the claim that moral values and judgement thereof can transcend sociocultural contexts, at least to an extent. Therefore, Fitouchi, André and Baumard illustrate that puritanical morality entails many human societies adhering to a set of seemingly unrelated values. The fact that a significant portion of the world’s population historically agrees that some practices are inherently wrong is a crucial element of this paper since, as these authors note, puritanical morality seems to be related to cultural evolution.

Nonetheless, the cultural evolutionary approach in Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s paper attempts to explain the decline of puritanical morality in specifically Western societies. They borrow the term “WEIRD societies” from Henrich, referring to “Western, Educated, Industrialized, Rich, and Democratic societies” (Henrich, Heine and Norenzayan 2010, 1). From this point onwards, this paper will also borrow Henrich’s term. Before applying their explanation to WEIRD societies, Fitouchi, André and Baumard lay the groundwork for their argument. They claim that practising puritanical morality increases self-control because it allows people to “remain peaceful neighbors, faithful husbands and wives, industrious workers” (2022, 9). Consequently, the practices condemned by puritanical morality beliefs are perceived as socially harmful. Thus, at the core of their argument lies the notion that puritanical morality prevents social harm caused by people who otherwise lack self-control.

Next, Fitouchi, André and Baumard apply this principle to the declining puritanical morality practised in WEIRD societies. They claim that puritanical morality is costly, restricting some pleasures and imposing “effortful disciplinary activities” (2022, 35). Therefore, puritanical norms should only be warranted when the result is worth the cost. As such, the argument follows that the cost is appropriate in situations where “spontaneous self-control” is not enough to “ensure social order and acceptable levels of cooperation” (Fitouchi, André, and Baumard 2022, 35). Meanwhile, in what they describe as “rich environments” such as WEIRD societies, people generally have “more inherently self-controlled psychologies”, “invest more in extended prosociality”, “are less susceptible to impulsive defection or retaliation”, and “have higher trust in others” (2022, 35-36). In terms of cultural evolution, this argumentation implies that WEIRD people’s individual psychologies have progressed beyond the need for puritanical practices, as this decline is noticed in changing alcohol consumption patterns over the course of the past millennium (Vallee 1998, 80). In this particular example, alcohol use has rapidly transformed from a type of medicine to an indispensable source of calories, and, today, a regularly relied-upon “social lubricant” (Vallee 1998, 80-81).

Meanwhile, in formulating their argument, Fitouchi, André and Baumard refer to Michael Walzer’s publication, “Puritanism as a Revolutionary Ideology” (1963). He analyses a variety of case studies in which puritanical morality was considered helpful in maintaining social order. One particular study follows the punishment of poorly-behaved children who were believed to be deviating from puritanical norms. Although it is important to recognise that Walzer’s article is approximately sixty years old, he suggests that a father embodies the role of governing a family and disciplining the children. He argues that this role is due to an “extraordinary fear of disorder and anarchy” (Walzer 1963, 85). Fitouchi, André and Baumard apply their argumentation to Walzer’s analysis of this case by suggesting that weak-willed individuals who are “perpetually tempted by selfishness” (2022, 35) must rely on puritanical morality in order for their societies to function. They begin with the idea that (Western) authoritarian punishment, such as the father disciplining his children in Walzer’s case, leads to rich environments where people “view others as spontaneously cooperative” (Fitouchi, André, and Baumard 2022, 35). Therefore, members of these rich environments – hence, WEIRD societies – are believed to have started viewing each other as instinctively self-controlled and trustworthy.

Thus, Fitouchi, André and Baumard suggest that a fear of social disorder led to stricter disciplining of individuals who deviated from puritanical norms. The argument follows that this discipline and punishment has played a key role in WEIRD cultural evolution whereby individuals became inherently more self-controlled and trusting of others. Consequently, the three thinkers propose their explanation of the declining puritanical morality in the West on this basis.

Issues with Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s Account

Despite recognising cultural differences in puritanical morality today, Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s argumentation has considerable cultural evolutionary consequences. Particularly, in suggesting that WEIRD societies are more self-controlled, disciplined and trustworthy than non-WEIRD societies, they maintain a needlessly ethnocentric approach. Their argumentation leads to the implication that non-WEIRD people are less psychologically advanced and that they are falling behind WEIRD people in terms of cultural evolution. While it is the case that each society and culture has evolved in a unique way, Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s suggestion that individuals in WEIRD societies have evolved to better embody attributes such as trustworthiness and self-discipline appears to be implicitly biased.

The three authors are themselves situated in a WEIRD sociocultural context, meaning that they are accustomed to Western values and acquainted with Western development. Particularly, Western economic and industrial development has resulted in “living in highly dense urban population centres” (Heigham 2019). Although the emergence of densely populated areas is not a uniquely Western phenomenon, further research indicates that WEIRD people have relatively high expectations in problem-solving due to the abundance and wide accessibility of technology. Ecologist Steve Heigham suggests that Western individuals in close proximity to each other may be more compelled to adhere to social norms due to these high expectations (2019). Fitouchi, André and Baumard appear to take this approach, too, in suggesting that WEIRD people have become more trusting of others to adhere to these norms.

However, this approach to cultural evolution is disputable because the question of how much researchers’ experiences and personal sociocultural contexts influence their arguments remains unanswered. Undeniably, WEIRD people are more acquainted with WEIRD societal practices and behaviours. As Henrich explains in The Secret of Our Success (2016), some practices can only be understood at the group level. This means that often, one cannot know the function or meaning of a cultural practice unless one is a member of the group in which it is practised. The implication of these “causally opaque” (Henrich 2016, 68) practices is that Western authors like Fitouchi, André and Baumard can only understand the function and meaning behind Western practices, in the same way that Heigham explains the relation between norm adherence and technology reliance in problem-solving expectations. The mistake these approaches make is found in their comparisons to non-WEIRD societies because Western researchers can only make assumptions, usually laced with implicit ethnocentric bias, about practices outside of their own sociocultural context.

Hence, it follows that Fitouchi, André and Baumard attempt to explain the perceived fall of puritanical morality practices in WEIRD societies by comparing them to non-WEIRD societies whose practices cannot be understood by outsiders. Their bias may be unintentional, but since these authors are situated in a WEIRD sociocultural context, they are accustomed to and aware of specific changes in WEIRD norms. This paper is not necessarily claiming that these authors are uneducated or ignorant of changes in non-WEIRD cultural values. Instead, the aim here is to argue for an alternative explanation of the perceived fall of puritanism in WEIRD societies that is not needlessly ethnocentric. Thus, in the sections that follow, this paper will expand upon a cultural evolutionary approach that considers sociocultural norm variation while also acknowledging the significant co-occurrence of some moral values (Curry, Mullins, and Whitehouse 2019, 48).

Are Puritanical “Morality” Practices Actually Related to Morality?

In order to conceptualise an alternative account of the supposed fall of puritanical morality in WEIRD societies, one may consider the extent to which puritanical behaviours are actually related to morality. This can be done through an analysis of moral disgust, the idea that humans feel revulsed at another human’s action that fails to “uphold the group or relationship norms” (Nabi 2010, 695-96). Furthermore, an ongoing discussion in several psychological and philosophy of mind domains concerns whether moral disgust is actually related to morality and ethics at all. This discussion plays a key role in discerning the “moral” aspect of puritanical morality since the public response to deviating from puritanical practices is a form of moral disgust. Examples of moral disgust in puritanical practices are seen in negative attitudes towards clothing considered too revealing and excessive alcohol consumption in public spaces. While this relatively short paper cannot divulge all aspects of the moral disgust debate, it will adopt the position that disgust is a matter of convention and use it as a starting point for an alternative account of Western puritanism, or lack thereof.

First, it is important to consider the core of the moral disgust debate. Like many researchers, Royzman and Kurzman conclude that moral disgust is “elusive” (2011, 270). In analysing a series of experiments, these researchers investigated the expression of moral dyspepsia – a feeling of sickness or disgust at another person’s behaviour. They aimed to analyse the hypothesis that feeling disgusted at someone else’s behaviour is the same kind of disgust induced by the sight of vomit and faeces, for example. While the results were inconclusive, several of the studies examined by Royzman and Kurzman demonstrate that when exposed to bad smells or tastes, the participants generally made more discernible facial expressions when they were aware of being observed (2011, 269-70). This suggests that the expression of disgust may function as a strategic signal. This is relevant to the moral disgust debate because moral disgust may also function as a strategic signal to in-group members, especially in children’s acquisition of social norms.

Moreover, in discussing the moral reasoning of WEIRD societies, Henrich, Heine and Norenzayan consider the ways in which children develop moral values. Using the Kohlberg model, they illustrate that WEIRD children develop their moral reasoning in three stages: pre-conventional, conventional, and post-conventional (Henrich, Heine and Norenzayan 2010, 13). During the pre-conventional stage, these children distinguish between right and wrong based on internal standards and consequences – e.g., it is wrong to do something that causes pain. Next, in the conventional stage, morality is based on external standards that maintain the social order of the group – such as the father in Walzer’s case study that disciplined his disorderly children (Walzer 1963, 85). Lastly, WEIRD children enter the post-conventional stage where they no longer rely on another person to teach them how to behave. In this stage, they refer to “abstract ethical principles regarding justice and individual rights – the moral code inherent in most Western constitutions” (Henrich, Heine and Norenzayan 2010, 13). Though, it is essential to note that this moral code should also be considered a form of conventionality since it is a set of rules comprised of generally accepted standards or social norms.

In terms of the Kohlberg model, puritanical morality can also be considered part of the conventional and post-conventional stages. Despite governing domains that have seemingly little overlap (i.e., food, clothing, sex), puritanical morality functions as a set of generally accepted standards or norms. Puritanical practices may be adopted in the conventional stage, whereby the external standards of respected individuals influence children. Meanwhile, during the post-conventional stage, puritanical practices and values may be present if they play a significant role in the child’s sociocultural context and moral code. For example, Jonathan Haidt analyses puritanical practices in the Hebrew Bible containing “rules about food, menstruation, sex, skin, and the handling of corpses” (2012, 25). Although some may argue that the Hebrew Bible does not play as big of a role in the moral code of many Western societies today, it has significantly influenced this moral code historically. The puritanical morality found in the Hebrew Bible follows a logic of remaining “pure” because purity is associated with God, whereas impurity or dirtiness is associated with animals (Haidt 2012, 110). Haidt notes that disgust may also influence the logic of puritanism since there is often an emotional dimension seen in rules about eating “things that swarm upon the earth” (2012, 25). In this analysis, Haidt asks his reader to consider the emotional dimension in this logic by imagining a swarm of mice rather than a singular mouse, suggesting that induced feelings of disgust towards the possibility of certain actions (i.e., eating mice in this example) have been introduced and maintained by puritanical thinking.

Despite the Kohlberg model focussing on WEIRD children specifically, it can function as one possible description of the ways in which puritanical morality is a form of conventionality. Specifically, it is a useful description of how WEIRD societies maintained puritanical practices historically while allowing room for changes to normative sources such as external influences and moral codes. Meanwhile, the notion that moral disgust may be a form of strategic signalling is also useful in reconceptualising puritanical morality as conventionality. It can account for at least one aspect of introducing societal norms to children in any sociocultural context, alongside maintaining these norms. When a child successfully discerns a signal of disgust, especially displayed by respected and influential group members, they may also start using this signal. If this is the case for most people in a society, displaying disgust towards a certain behaviour becomes conventional. Therefore, applications of the Kohlberg model and disgust signalling can function as valuable descriptions of puritanical morality as conventionality.

Thus, the extent to which puritanical morality practices can really be considered a form of morality depends on a society’s conventions constituting what is believed to be moral. These practices are not moral in that they maintain behaviours necessarily and objectively right while condemning those necessarily and objectively wrong. Many people worldwide would disagree that wearing clothing made from two (or more) different fibres is necessarily wrong. Nevertheless, it is believed to be wrong by those in the sociocultural context whereby this clothing practice is condemned. This is an appropriate moment to reiterate Henrich’s claim that some practices are “causally opaque” (2016, 68), meaning that unless a practice is conventional in one’s own society, one may not understand its meaning or function. In this sense, puritanical morality is understood as a form of group-level conventionality whereby the righteousness of its practices is subjective to its context.

An Alternative Account of the Declining Puritanical Morality in the West

Thus far, this paper has argued that puritanical morality is not declining in WEIRD societies due to WEIRD people having more self-control and being more trusting of others. There must be another reason for this decline. It has also been argued that puritanical morality is a form of group-level conventionality rather than objective moral righteousness. Consequently, the next appropriate point of analysis entails an alternative account of the declining puritanical morality in the West that acknowledges it as a form of conventionality comprised of social norms. This alternative account begins by returning, again, to Henrich’s “causally opaque” practices (2016, 68).

In chapter seven of The Secret of Our Success, Henrich uses the processing technique of Tukanoan manioc in Amazonia as an example of a causally opaque practice (2016, 97-101). In this particular case, it is difficult to grow other crops, meaning that manioc is a large part of the Tukanoan people’s diet. Since consuming the roots of the plant can cause cyanide poisoning, it is important that children learn how to process it correctly. In this case, the young Tukanoan people learn how to process the roots from the previous generation, who had learnt from the generation of people before them, and so forth. Henrich illustrates that because these techniques work, those preparing the manioc are unaware that it can cause cyanide poisoning (2016, 98). Instead, they may believe that they are preparing it in a way that removes the bitter taste and reduces the likelihood of reactions like diarrhoea.

Moreover, the preparation process is rigorous and takes multiple days to complete. Therefore, Henrich asks his reader to imagine someone realising that one of the steps – boiling the manioc – is sufficient in only removing the bitter taste and possible reactions (2016, 99). Since they would be unaware that manioc consumption can cause cyanide poisoning, anyone who eats the food they prepare would eventually develop symptoms of such. However, despite the possibility that Tukanoan people could start experimenting with removing steps from this time-consuming process, they continue to use the techniques passed on for generations. While removing seemingly pointless steps may be the most commonsensical thing to do, the Tukanoan people have faith in the traditional processing method. For Henrich, this notion sits at the core of causally opaque practices because someone who is not a part of the group “cannot readily infer their functions, interrelationships, or importance” (2016, 99). Consequently, some cultural evolution practices can only be understood at the group level.

Henrich’s understanding of causally opaque practices in cultural evolution can be applied to puritanical morality practices. For instance, Haidt describes a US “virginity pledge movement” during the 1990s (2012, 156), whereby group members vowed to remain celibate until marriage. For individuals who were not part of this movement, it may be unclear why a vow of celibacy is important to the group. In this sense, someone with no affiliation to the group can only make assumptions about why vowing to remain celibate is important to its members. They may assume it is important in upholding religious values. In contrast, someone who is unfamiliar with references to celibacy in the Bible, for example, may assume it is important for another reason.

Meanwhile, Henrich’s notion is instrumental in formulating an explanation of the declining puritanical morality in WEIRD societies without ethnocentric undertones. The previous explanation examined in this paper is that of Fitouchi, André and Baumard, who claim that WEIRD people have culturally evolved to be more trusting of others and self-controlled, among other things (2022, 35-36). While it is likely that cultural evolution is responsible for the fall of Western puritanism, these authors make the mistake of comparing changes in Western cultural practices to non-Western cultural practices – often incomprehensible to those outside of their specific sociocultural context. Since Fitouchi, André and Baumard are WEIRD people, the argument that puritanical morality is present in non-WEIRD societies because their members are not disciplined enough to uphold social order without it is merely an assumption. Their argument fails to recognise that a (non-WEIRD) society may maintain a puritanical practice for causally opaque reasons.

Furthermore, Fitouchi, André and Baumard take an individualist approach to cultural evolution by focusing on one’s psychology in discussions surrounding discipline and impulsiveness. A key issue with this approach is its implication that WEIRD individuals have evolved to transcend the need for puritanical morality. This implication falls dangerously close to suggesting that WEIRD societies are comprised of individuals with a superior psychological makeup because they no longer need to rely on puritanical practices to function. However, Henrich provides a group-level analysis of cultural variation that accounts for the fact that many societies have at least some values in common. This alternative approach does not maintain a needlessly ethnocentric attitude because it suggests that the fall of Western puritanism is simply one descriptor of cultural variation and adaptation. It maintains that every society is culturally varied from another in some way, while none are comprised of more psychologically developed individuals than others.

A critical aspect of Henrich’s understanding of cultural evolution is that young learners and even adults “unconsciously attend to and preferentially learn from others” they consider successful, respected and prestigious members of their society (2016, 4). In this view, one’s values and behaviours stem from people they consider role models. This approach is highly compatible with the notion that puritanical morality is a form of conventionality because it is a set of social norms generally agreed upon within a society. Individuals adhere to these norms because the associated behaviours are learnt from respected members of one’s own group. Earlier in this paper, moral disgust is evaluated as a strategic signal, suggesting that it can account for introducing and maintaining societal norms in their particular sociocultural contexts. Therefore, moral disgust can be considered a feature of cultural evolution insofar as individuals discern and then replicate the signals of prestigious group members.

Similarly, the maintenance of particular sociocultural norms can be considered a form of overimitation in cultural variation. When exploring features of social learning, researchers Berl and Hewlett consider the function of overimitation. They begin their analysis by defining overimitation as “the high-fidelity copying of causally irrelevant actions in the presence of clear causal information” (2015, 2). Therefore, overimitating is the act of copying all of another’s actions exactly despite knowing that one or more of their actions is unnecessary. A simple example of overimitation is when two people buy bottled smoothies. The first person may shake their smoothie bottle five times in an up-and-down motion. When the second person observes this behaviour and also shakes their smoothie bottle five times in an up-and-down motion, they are overimitating. The second person did not necessarily need to mirror the first person’s actions, as shaking four times from left to right would have been adequate, too. While overimitation is not confirmed as a universal social learning feature in every society, it has been observed in a range of societies (Berl and Hewlett 2015, 4). Hence, overimitation appears to play a role in introducing and maintaining norm-adhering behaviours in at least some WEIRD and non-WEIRD societies.

In addition, puritanical morality practices can be considered a form of overimitation. This paper has established that puritanical morality may be considered a set of norms that govern seemingly unrelated domains like food and clothing. However, despite these domains having little to no overlap in their content, Fitouchi, André and Baumard illustrate that many societies adhere to the same set of norms (2022, 6). In this sense, it can be argued that individuals in certain sociocultural contexts overimitate when they practise puritanical morality. The reason why some people from various cultures consider both excessive public alcohol consumption and short skirts disgusting is unclear. Nonetheless, it is still the case that lots of different people from different societies agree with these same values. Hence, the practice of puritanical morality can be considered the overimitation of respected group members over generations. Following Henrich’s cultural evolution, one can consider the centuries-long, if not longer, overimitation of the same puritanical norms as other groups in terms of the formation of populations and new societies. Henrich explains that social institutions “integrated local groups into larger regional populations” (2016, 221). Therefore, cultures began to evolve in a new way when smaller groups joined to make larger societies. The social institutions he mentions play an important role because they are responsible for both the moral code seen in WEIRD children’s post-conventional stage of moral reasoning and the causally opaque practices seen in manioc preparation. Thus, despite the relatedness of puritanical norms being causally opaque, they appear to be overimitated as the prestigious members of some societies have upheld these values by learning from those prestigious in the generation before them, and so forth.

Next, one is left with the final question of how puritanism is falling in WEIRD societies if it continues to be overimitated in (some) other societies. To propose an answer to this question, one can return to the notion of social learning by observing and reproducing the behaviours of respected group members. In WEIRD societies today, many people respect and learn from influencers or celebrities (Heigham 2019). These celebrities’ behaviours are also imitated, from eating at restaurants they recommend to buying articles of clothing they are seen wearing –­­­­ perhaps even in the same colour. Like puritanical practices, the relatedness of specific restaurants and specific items of clothing is causally opaque. In both WEIRD societies and societies that practice puritanical morality, the only observable aspect of this relatedness to those who are not a member of the group is the fact that successful and well-respected members also have these practices.

Therefore, when puritanical morality is understood as a form of conventionality rather than associating it with objective righteousness, a society may stop practising it, or some aspects of it, because it no longer plays a significant role in social norms. Consequently, this has led to an alternative account of declining puritanical morality in WEIRD societies that understands it as cultural evolution. In this sense, the presence of puritanical practices in a society is simply one descriptor of cultural variation and adaptation. This approach allows for a non-ethnocentric account of changing WEIRD practices. It argues that the respected members of WEIRD societies whose behaviours are overimitated simply behave differently from those in other societies. Hence, WEIRD people are not necessarily more disciplined and less impulsive; they have different, and not better, causally opaque practices.

Conclusion

Overall, this paper has criticised Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s explanation of declining puritanical morality in WEIRD societies and provided a non-ethnocentric alternative. The three authors demonstrate that although the domains of puritanical morality, such as clothing and food, are seemingly unrelated, a significant number of the world’s population practice these beliefs. They argue that puritanical morality is necessary for upholding social order because it makes individuals more self-controlled and disciplined. Without it, they suggest, a society’s social order is at risk because people may be tempted to pursue selfish pleasures such as adultery (Fitouchi, André, and Baumard 2022, 9). Hence, they believe that a WEIRD fear of social disorder caused stricter disciplining of individuals, which ultimately led to the redundancy and decline of puritanical morality.

However, this paper has argued that Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s explanation of the phenomenon is problematic. Their argumentation leads to the implication that non-WEIRD people have somewhat fallen behind WEIRD people in cultural evolution. Their approach is ethnocentric, especially since these authors are WEIRD. They cannot know the importance, meaning, or interrelationships of some non-WEIRD practices because they are not members of those groups. Hence, they appear to have an implicit bias in attempting to compare their understanding and experience of WEIRD practices to non-WEIRD practices that they cannot fully understand.

Consequently, this paper proposes an alternative account of declining puritanical practices in WEIRD societies. Starting from a conceptualisation of puritanical morality as a form of group-level conventionality, it has been argued that such practices are a set of societal norms rather than objective moral righteousness. Therefore, in applying Henrich’s ideas on cultural variation, this paper suggests that people acquire norms and practices via social learning. Causally opaque practices (Henrich 2016, 68) are learnt from prestigious and respected group members and may be passed on for generations, as seen in the preparation of Tukanoan manioc. This notion can be applied to puritanical morality since someone who is not a group member can only make assumptions about the group’s practices. Thus, Fitouchi, André and Baumard make the mistake of comparing WEIRD practices, of which they are a group member, to the assumptions they make about non-WEIRD practices.

The proposed alternative explanation understands the fall of puritanical morality in WEIRD societies as a matter of cultural variation. It argues that the presence of puritanical morality practices in a society is simply one descriptor of cultural variation and adaptation, whereby a WEIRD society simply overimitates and expresses different behaviours than a non-WEIRD society. Ultimately, this approach concludes that the cultural evolution of WEIRD societies has merely led to different, and not better, practices.

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[1] Defined by Merriam-Webster as “characterized by or based on the attitude that one’s own group is superior” (Merriam-Webster, n.d.).