The Good Show

Hey, I'm Molly Webster. Hey, I'm Mono Montgomery. Mono and I just made a snail episode. It's called snail sex tape. And we have not stopped talking about snails for like months. We've become deeply obsessed with snails. I think we should all get snail tattoos. Ooh, snail tattoo could be cute. But you know what, you can get instead of a snail tattoo. What? You can get an enamel snail pin in honor of our snail sex tape episode. I've never been more honored in my life. I know. It is based on a real medieval snail miniature. I will be rocking it on my gene jacket all spring long. So to get one of these pins, you have to join the lab. And when you join the lab in addition to helping fund our show, you get access to sponsor free podcasts, plus monthly bonus content, plus invitations to events with the team. Including an AMA that we're going to be doing next month, you and me about the behind the scenes of making snail sex tape. Behind the shell, BTS, all you have to do is go to radiolab.org slash join. And if you use the code word snail, you get two months off the first year of an annual membership. Get your pin. And we can't wait to see you guys next month. Thanks, everyone. Oh, wait, you're listening. OK. OK. OK. OK. Door listening to radio lab. Radio from W and Y. See. Yeah. This is radio lab. I'm Lotha Fnaassar. It's the holidays. And as usual, at this time of year, everyone's become so nice all of a sudden, giving gift, donating to charities, showing up with a plate of cookies. Everything feels so warm and gooey and selfless. But where is all of this goodness coming from? This week, we're bringing back an episode from 2010 that asks a simple question. Why do we sometimes help others even when it hurts us to do so? It feels like the right episode for right now, not because it's a holiday story, although there is a little Christmas parable in there. But because it asks, what generosity is where it comes from and whether it truly exists at all? Here it is, the good show. All right. OK. So let's just do the open. All right. Hey, I'm Chad Abumarad. I'm Robert Krollowicz. This is radio lab. And today, we're going to be talking, well, let's do it this way. Which way? I was at the 90s, Street Y, in New York City, a gathering spot for cool people with new books. And that particular reason is Richard Dawkins. Richard Dawkins. They like him food. Don't make it so easy for him. I decided to begin. This is a real problem for a lot of people, by quoting him to him. You write, I don't know if it's in this book or some other, the total amount of suffering per year in the natural world is beyond all decent contemplation. During the minute, it takes me to compose the sentence, thousands of animals are being eaten alive. Others are running for their lives. Wimpering with fear. Others are slowly being devoured from within by rasping parasites. Thousands of all kinds are dying of starvation, thirst, disease. It must be so. If there is ever a time of plenty, this very fact will automatically lead to an increase in population until the natural state of starvation and misery is restored. Who? Darwin was worried by the same thing. Darwin recognized the total horror of the suffering in nature. It was one of the things that actually made him lose his faith. But he also realized that it's not just a fact that it happens. It's intrinsic to natural selection that it must happen. And when you look at a beautiful animal, like a cheetah, that appears to be beautifully designed for something, like a cheetah is amazingly well-designed, apparently, for catching gazelles. And gazelles are amazingly well designed for escaping from cheetahs. That they are the end products of a sort of evolutionary arms race in which thousands, millions of animals have died. The shaping, the carving of the shape of a cheetah or a gazelle has come about through millions of unsuccessful gazelles being caught, and the successful ones making it through, only to be caught later, probably, but after reproducing and passing on the genes that help them to escape. So the sheer number of deaths that lie behind the sculpting of these beautiful creatures is horrifying. And at the same time, it's got a kind of savage beauty. Wow. Why did you buy me this, exactly? Well, because I was sitting there thinking, I know the cheetahs chasing eat antelopes, but wasn't there a nice cheetah once? That went over to the antelope and said, I have a sandwich together. And it may be something about the cheetah and had something to do with an act of kindness. I can't imagine this. So you're thinking that maybe it's not just meanness that consculpt, but maybe niceness consculpt, too. Exactly. Niceness as a scalpel. Niceness as a scalpel. I want to listen to that show. Wait a second. We are that show. We should do it. Let's do it. Today on Radio Lab. Goodness. Kindness. Selflessness. Alchewism. If the world is so cruel, how do you account for it? Yeah. How should we think about it? And when you do see generosity, how do you know it's really generous? Sorry. So we're going to start the show with a story that sort of embodies the last question you asked about a guy named George Price, who is a mathematician we never heard of until our producer, Lynne Levy, told us about him. She heard about it from an author, Warren Harmon, who wrote a book called The Price as a George Price of Alchewism. Look it down. This is a high school photo. So the people in the radio can't see the picture. So to describe what he looks like. Well, I tell you, he looks a bit like some kind of scanned an avian prince in the 17th century. Good looking guy. Totally. Definitely something about this guy's eyes. His eyes. Yeah. This was described to me by a number of people who knew him. He had a gaze that you walked away from at your own peril. There was something that he sort of knew things. You could start George's story anywhere, but let's start in 1943. George graduates from college. And he's this very kinetic guy. Really athletic. He'd swim in the surf, and he did a lot of rock climbing. And by all accounts, he was incredibly brilliant. And right after college, he starts to kind of bounce through history. He was all over the place. First place he ends up is the Manhattan Project on uranium enrichment. So he was working as a chemist on the atom bomb. When he was done with that, after a couple of years, he made a 90 degree turn and started working at Bell Labs on transistor research. Solved some very basic problems there and then disappeared like a phantom. Started working at a medical center on college research. Meaning cancer. And I remember going to his lab, playing hide and seek, all these bottles and tests to the lab. By this time, George had a wife and two kids. You'd look under the microscope, but slides of blood. Anna and Kathleen. But he never really saw them that much. She'd work 56 hours straight without sleeping on benzodiaum. I remember he was always. Stuff like that. Gone a lot. When the kids were still pretty young, we were like five and six. Left his family. Yeah. Just left. Turned another 90 degree corner and began working on computer aided design. In fact, he invented computer aided design. He was firing in all directions. What do you think was driving him to keep moving from thing to thing? He just wanted to succeed at any cost. It made no difference in what field. And at one point in time, he was corresponding with about five Nobel laureates, each in a different field. He wanted to have one great discovery that would make his name. So that's George. Wow. Quite a guy. Very interesting guy. So what happens next? So next, what happens is he gets on a boat and he goes to London. When was this, by the way? It's November 1967. And in London, that's where things for our purposes start to really happen. Why would happen to London? Well, he starts looking for this question. He goes from library to library. There are 13 libraries that he would hang out at. And the question that he finds for himself, which is weird, considering his personal history, is. Why family? Like, why do people have families? Why do families stick together? There are a lot of dynamics within the family where it would make more sense for an individual to break out. Go it alone. Like he had. And yet, family persists. And there should be a good reason for it. He even wrote about the question to his daughter. Dear Kathleen, my big paper will be on the evolutionary origin of the human family. In most species, the father just mates with the mother and she does all the child rearing herself. But in the human species, the dominant pattern has involved care by adult males toward their own children. Why did our species evolve this way? You know, it just brings back what kind of a father our father was towards us. And basically, there was kind of the spinoid neglect. But this question, why family was only the beginning? Why family led him to a bigger question? Which is, why does anybody help anybody? Well, what do you mean? If you think about Darwin's idea survival of the fittest, think about what that really means. It means if you are a creature, you have two big important jobs. You got to survive and you're going to be fit. Right. Whatever that means. Fitness really means how many babies can you make? How many babies are you making? And so if you do some stupid, you know, hair brain thing, that means you can't stay alive and or you can't make babies, that doesn't make any sense. Right. And yet, wherever you look in nature, you see creatures doing this. From bacteria to insects, bees, ants, and wasps, fish. I'll give you an example. There's a species of amoeba called discatillium discoidium, which usually the amoeba sort of lives on its own. It's a single-celled organism in the forest. But when resources are low, what it does is it sends out this chemical signal. And all the other amoeba who are also single-celled. They start sending out signals. And they start sort of crawling until they all meet. And they become one slug, which is now a single organism. And this slug begins to sort of move along until it finds a place that's windy and sunny, at which point? It stops. And the top 20% of the slug, the top 20% amoeba in the head of the slug, begin to create out of their own body a stalk. Which heartens, and they die while doing so. But the stalk allows the bottom 80% to climb up the stalk and to create an orb at the top of the stalk. And from there, all the amoeba that aren't dead, they can catch a wind. To better pastures. It's like a dandelion. So what's happened is that the top 20% have really sacrificed themselves for the back 80%. And that's an amoeba. So you figure what the hell is happening here? This was a great mystery to Darwin. And Darwin said, this is, in fact, the greatest mystery in the greatest riddle. And if I can't answer it, then my theory isn't worth anything. And for 100 years, when people talked about evolution, this thing, altruism, is the elephant in the room. Should we just jump in? So we were curious about this. Sorry, I'm dying. How might you take this elephant, this niceness thing, it seems to be everywhere and shove it back into the mean old theory of evolution? It's got to be a way. So we called up Carl Zimmer, who's a journalist we have on the show quite often, who writes a lot about evolution. And he told us in the 1960s, just as George Price was starting to ask these questions, some scientists came up with a new way of thinking about altruism, a thought experiment, which he ran us through. OK, so Robert, do you have siblings? I have a sister. OK, you have a sister. Sarah. OK, let's just imagine that you guys are home from college saying. OK. And there's a flood at the crawlwitch manor. And the water's flooding around, and you can see that your sister is about to die. If you save your sister's life and you die in the process, your genes, Robert, Carl, which is genes, are gone. Yep. Right, this is the problem. Yes. But you and your sister have the same parents. Yes. OK, so your sister has 50% of your genes. So if I rescue her, then half my gene survived? Right, 50% move on. And if you had a sister and a brother, and you saved them both, the each have 50% so it's a watch. And so it's effectively, it's like, it's like saving Robert Carlitch in his entirety. Mathematically speaking. Mathematically speaking, right. Can you do this with cousins? Yeah, actually. If you step it back to cousins, that's a quarter, in the case of the first cousins, that is. It's an eight. So we have to have eight cousins to equal my full genome. Right. Yeah. Do you have that many? I have 32 third cousins, and that's why I always round them up in a rodeo every year. And you place them all together. Just stay here in case something happens to me. But here's what I don't get. How does this actually operate? Robert's not going to sit there while the man is flooding and be like, well, let's see. Cousin that's an eighth and a second cousin that's a 30 second sonar. No, you understand. The math has already been done. The math has already been done. The math has been done by evolution on genes. And those are the genes you've got. Oh, so you're saying that evolution has turned the math into an instinct? Yeah, you got it. I don't think I get it. What is the instinct here? I know I want to save my sister. Yeah, well, so here's how I understand it. Since cis has half your genes, and since second cousin only has a 30 second, theoretically, your instinct to save your cis should be 16 times stronger than your instinct. Oh, no, that's actually roughly proportionally correct. Really? But keep in mind, this was just an idea. It's just a thought experiment. Until our guy, George Price, comes along and writes an equation which shows mathematically how an instinct like this could have all. It's very powerful. OK, so well, do you want me just read the letters? Yeah. What is the equation? What equals what? OK, so it's w times delta z equals the covariance of w i comma z i plus e. We call it e w i delta z i. Oh, of course. Yeah, there you go. So complicated. I mean, it was simple a second ago. No, it sounds a little complicated. He's not just dealing with a simple setup. It's like he's got the traits and how they affect the different groups and how things change over time. So it's a big, there's a lot going on in there. OK. Yeah. All right. Do you understand what you just said? Not. Yeah. So here, this is a really interesting letter. When he did write the equation, he walked off the street into the university. In university, in college, of the university of London, in London, completely unknown. He just moved from America. No one knew who he was. I went to talk to a professor Smith, and he showed the equation to the professor and said, is this new? I felt sure that someone must have discovered it before. The professor looked at it. And after a very, very short amount of minutes gave him an honorary professorship and the keys to an office. One of the best genetics departments in the world. So George is sitting in his office, which, by the way, is on the site of Darwin's old house. Whoa. And he's made this big discovery. And he's thinking. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking philosophically about what it all meant. Thinking. If I can write a formal mathematical treatment of the evolution of a trait like altruism, what it means about the trait is that the trait is never really purely altruistic. If making a sacrifice helps me in the end or helps my genes. It's sort of like selfishness in the skies. Yeah. If that's true, the world is a terrible place. Because it means that there's no true, there could never be true selflessness in the world. My math means that there cannot ever be true selflessness. And I can't accept a world like that. Why could he suddenly not accept a world like that? Yeah, I don't know. Or in the things it might be because. Precisely because he had been so selfish for most of his life. And so he decided in his own life to embark on a program of radical altruism that would prove that there was true selflessness in the world. And that's what led him to the streets of London. In search of homeless people, there are licks down and out. And he began by just walking up to them, introducing himself, hello, my name is George. What's your name? How can I help you? To random people in the street? Yeah. Everywhere I go, I keep running into down and out alcoholics, to whom I give when I have anything. And with whom I sit and drink from their bottle if they offer me a drink. He buy people sandwiches or give them a few pounds. Whether it's by giving them money, cleaning a filthy kitchen. And then it got bigger. He started giving out keys to his place, inviting these guys into his home. People were coming and going. He was giving them food, clothes. And after a few months of charity like that, he was out of money. There was one letter that he had written to John Maynard Smith, another great biologist of the era, which said, John, I'm down to my last 15p. And I can't wait to get rid of the last 15. He thought he was proving his equation wrong. So by getting poorer and poorer and giving away all this stuff, he was somehow negating the thing his math seemed to say was inevitable, the selfish instinct. Yeah. He had the self-preservation instinct. And he was going to fight the self-preservation instinct. And he was going to win. To sort of beat the mathematics that he himself had written. So he was approaching it almost like a math proof. Yeah. There you go. It's just the red one that you'd be too close to. When he ran out of money, George moved out of his apartment and into this abandoned house in a part of London called Tomor Square. Which one does the volume for my headphones? Which is where he met Sylvia. It was rough. There were just poles holding the walls up, some places at walls. She was a young artist, also squatting at the time. And the buildings are crumbling. People had made makeshift staircases. And George had like a room? Well, a few clothes on the floor. It was not much. But you know, you could see he was always thinking. He would go around asking other people, does anybody have shoes? They don't want someone so needs a pair of shoes. You know, that would be part of it. But it might also be like if somebody was sick getting him to a doctor. Because if you were homeless, it's very hard to have a doctor. But like I said, all this is going on at the same time. He was getting thinner and thinner, the thin little neck, and then these clothes it just hung around him. He began writing letters to his daughters. Apologizing, weeping. Dear Henry, sorry I deserted you like that. And I'm sorry I was such a poor father to you. I've been a terrible father. Looking at your picture now makes me wish I could do it all over again. Maybe where I come into the picture is he wanted to begin again. She says George asked her to marry him over and over. First I thought it was kind of a joke. I was saying George, we can't get mad. She said no each time. And at a certain point, he gave up. It's hard to really, really remember. But it was cold as the winter came on. You wouldn't see George as often. I became quieter I think. Just remember, I'm quieter. One morning, this guy that was sharing a squat with George. Name is Shemulikatia. He was heading out the door. He found beneath the door, as he was going out of the building, he found beneath the door a letter. And since they were living in a squat, he was afraid that this was some kind of eviction notice or something like that. He didn't read English. He couldn't read English. So he ran up the stairs and knocked on George's door. Because George was the only one who could read English. And when he knocked, the door sort of kind of went in a bit. And he could see in the aperture that there was blood all over the linoleum floor. When he had enough of an opening, he could see that George was sitting there with no blood left in his body. He killed himself. He took a pair of scissors and cut through his carotid artery, which is a very, very sort of terrible death. Poor George. Thanks to producer Lynn Levy. For more on George Price, be sure to read Orrin Harmon's book, The Price of Altruism. And thanks also to Carl Zimmer. His latest is microcosm. We'll be right back. I'm Mandy, and I'm Melissa, and this is Moms and Mysteries. We're two Florida moms obsessed with true crime. From infamous cases like Ellen Greenberg to shocking Florida stories like the Dan Markelle killing. With 55 million downloads, we bring you new deep dives every Tuesday and Thursday. Listen to Moms and Mysteries on Apple podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey, this is Radio Lab. I'm Chad Abel-Meron. I'm Robert Krohlwich. Our topic today is goodness. Goodness selflessness. So we've done the math. I, the math leaves me a little on the cold side. I wonder why. So you know what? Forget the math. Forget it. Let's go to the people who do the deeds. You people who do amazingly brave and heroic things. Yeah. No math required. Maybe find out. I don't know. What makes them different than the rest of us? Yeah. That question let us. Walter Kowski. To a guy named Walter Rikowski. And I'm the executive director and secretary of the Carnegie Hero Fund Commission. Cool. Well, thanks for doing this. So a little background on the Hero Fund. What is the Carnegie Hero Fund? The Carnegie Hero Fund is a private operating foundation that was established by Andrew Carnegie in 1904. And what we do is recognize civilian heroism throughout the United States and Canada by giving an award called the Carnegie Medal. And accompanying the Carnegie Medal is a financial grant. How much? Currently the amount is $5,000. Wow. And how do you guys choose your heroes? We judge the heroic acts against a list of requirements. So then you have to have some kind of definition of hero, which includes some and excludes others. Yes. Perfect. The basic definition, which is a civilian, one, meaning no military, who voluntarily, to leaves a point of safety, to risk his own life or her own life or to an extraordinary degree, to save or to attempt to save the life of another human. Six. How about seven? Why? Can you read that one more time? OK. I wasn't reading. That just came from memory. So the whole thing changed. What is it that happens in a person's mind at that pivotal moment when they decide to voluntarily leave a point of safety and risk their life to an extraordinary degree? To save the life of another human. That's what we wanted to know. Should we just jump in? OK. So the first one we have on our list is a Laura Shrek. OK. That's file number 73546. And the award number is 8,05. I am Laura Shrek. I am from Mattoon, Illinois, and I currently live in Dubai, United Arab Emirates. Oh, wow. Laura spoke with our producer Tim Howard. OK. So we're going back a little bit here. Yeah. 15 years back in the mid 90s. 1995. It was a 21-year-old college student. And I was driving through the country, and I saw a woman getting mulled by a bull in a pasture. So she stopped to see what was going on? She jumped out and started yelling at her to see what I could do. The woman was on the ground, and the bull was... $950,000. Jersey bull. Tossing her in the air and back on the ground. Wow. She was clearly struggling. And where were you? I was right on the other side of the fence, but the fence was electric. So here's the moment that we find fascinating. At this point, Laura can either go forward through thousands of volts of electricity toward an angry bull that will likely mull her too, or she can stay safe. I went ahead and just climbed through the fence. And I don't remember ever feeling the electricity. She says, by the time she got through, crazily enough. A neighbor had shown up and threw her a piece of pipe. Maybe about two feet long. Oh, she approached the woman. Who was still conscious. The whole time she's yelling at me, hit the bull in the face as hard as you can, and don't stop. So Miss Shrek went up to the bull. And beat it repeatedly. Look, there's two foot length of tubing. I think it distracted the bull enough, where she was able to get out from under him. And as soon as we were outside the fence, looking back into the past, the bull was literally right there at the fence. Kicked the ground a few times and snorted. He was not happy. To our question. When you were there at that fence, and you had the choice either stay put or to go through it, what was going through your mind? Was there a calculation there? No, I can't really say that. I mean, you don't weigh your options or anything like that. I did not. No. It was just, here's the problem. Here's what I need to do. And something needed to happen. Huh. So there's no choice moment? Not that I recall. No. If nobody came to this woman's rescue, she would die. Unfortunately, this is the usual explanation, says Walter. No explanation. I couldn't stand there and not do anything. I was compelled to act. I didn't really take the time to think about what else could happen. And I can't say I ever really thought about my own life at that time. OK, we just jumped ahead because we thought we'd try again. That's the voice of the next Carnegie Hero that Walter told us about. Yeah, William David Pennell. James William Pennell. It was the 8,362nd person to receive the Carnegie Medal. I produced your L'Unleavy Tracked Him Down. Bill, can you hear me? Yeah, I can hear you. William David Pennell was 37 years old at the time of his heroic act. Was it 1999? Yes. It was early in the morning. It was like 3.19 a.m. in a small town near Pittsburgh. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Manonga Hala, Pennsylvania. We was in bed sleeping in my wafered a lot of trash. I actually didn't hear it. My one dog was carrying on. So right away, I run down there. Mr. Pennell went outside his house. There was a very bad automobile accident. A car crashed head on into a utility pole. Flames was like rippling up the windshield out from under the hood. He responded to the scene wearing only sweatpants. Those shoes are shuddered on air chested and air foot. So here we are. Bill's standing in front of this ball of fire. There are three drunk teenagers inside that car that he doesn't know it. He can either A, do nothing. Or B, go in. Through the driver's door. In his big fella, he slumped out the door. So I reached in and grabbed the hole of him. Around the chest, pulled him from the driver's seat out to the ground. The meantime, the car was just like blazing. And my neighbor was there. She was hauling. There's more of him in there. So I run back to the vehicle. Found that the front seat passenger that was trapped in the wreckage. I finally got him loose and pulled him out. Apparently Mr. Pennell was aware that a third person was in the car, a third young man. Mr. Pennell entered the car a third time. By then, there was tires blowing out. Flames had grown to about three feet above the car's roof. The interior of the headliner or the car or stuff was dripping, like blasting down on my back. I mean, I mean, there are screaming. Somebody give me a hand in there. But nobody would help. And I reached in and grabbed the hole of the kid that was in the back by the scruff of the neck and pulled him out. All right. So when you were coming out of your house and you looking at that car, what was going through your head? Well, just trying to help. I mean, I did what any normal person would do. I mean, I just kept saying this is somebody's kid. You know what I mean? It's a time my daughter was like 16. And I'm saying to myself, if something God forbid, whatever happened to her, that I would hope someone would be there to help. Did you ever talk to your neighbors and ask them why they didn't come in there? I mean, you know what? That's as funny you brought that up because I've never brought it up. Never brought it up. How come? I don't know. I guess maybe I probably wouldn't like their answer. I don't know. I don't know why I've never asked them. What do you think is the difference between you and those other people who just sort of stood by? I couldn't answer that. I couldn't answer that. So our bold girl, she didn't know. This guy didn't really know either. Somebody must be able to tell us something about what they were thinking at that moment that allowed them, that gave them the courage to do what they did. I can't give you a definite answer as to what propels people to do this, no. But we took one more shot with Walter. And he told us about a case that of all the cases he's heard. This is the one that puzzles him the most. It's the case of Wesley James Autry, a construction worker from New York 50 year old man who did jump into the track bed in a subway station to remove a fellow, a young man, who had fallen onto the track. The gentleman was 6' 180 pounds. He was inert. And yet Mr. Autry persisted despite the fact that a train was coming. There would come a point, at least in my estimation, where you would have to say, I have to get out of here, because I'm going to be killed. I'm not suicidal. But Mr. Autry didn't think that way. He and I part in this manner. What he did was he lay atop the victim between the rails while the train passed over them. In the farthest reaches of my imagination, I can see myself jumping onto a subway track to attempt the rescue. What I can see myself doing is lying atop the victim while the train passes over me. Making this story even more nuts. When we finally met up with Wesley Autry on the platform where this incident happened, 135th and Broadway, he explained to us that his daughters had been with him. They were okay. And how old were your daughters? At that time, my daughter was four and six, and just them there. Showed us picture. Oh my God. Super cute. One behind me is Shu-Ki and this is the baby Sashi. So when they're standing there and this guy starts convulsing, and then eventually falls off the platform onto the tracks, right as a train is coming, his choice is pretty stark. In order to save this complete stranger, he's got to leave his daughters behind, potentially without a dad. So he jumps, runs to the guy, is he conscious? No. tries to grab the guy's hand. And he's down my grab this hand, we'll slip apart. And when he's slipped, I look up the train again close. I grab his hand again, we'll slip apart, the train is closer. 50 feet, 20 feet, 10 feet, and then it's right there. And all he can do is grab the guy, get him in a bear hug and flatten his body against the guy as much as he can. The first train car just greased my cats. The train car went right over there. When the train came to stop 4 to 5 cars past us, I looked at him in the eyes, and excused him. And you see that I have a seizure or something. I don't know you, you don't know me. So I just kept talking to him, he came through. And he was like, well, we are like, we are on a different train. He said, well, who are you? I said, I came down to save your life. So he kept asking me, are we dead? I went in heaven. I gave him a slight pinch on his arm. He said, oh, just a seat. You're very much alive. Have you ever asked yourself at this point, what am I doing here? I mean, he asked it, what am I doing here? What about you? I can hear the two ladies. We have my daughter standing in between their legs. I can hear my daughter screaming. So when that train come to a stop, I yell up from underneath the train, excuse me, I'm the father, we're OK. I just want to let my daughters know that I'm OK, because I know that they are worried about me. Everybody start clapping. Can I ask you a question? So the point at which you said you heard a voice that said, I can do this. I can do this. What is amazing to me is that you left your daughters right here and died after a guy you don't know. He was a stranger, total stranger. But you know what? The mission wasn't come completed. I was chosen for that. You felt chosen? Like you were chosen. I felt like I was a chosen man. But for a religious person, though, I would wonder, why me? Well, you know what? Maybe 20 years ago, I was supposed to be at a certain point. And then he explained to us exactly why he had jumped. He was the one guy who could. He said, right before his feet left the platform, this one specific moment from his life flashed to mind. This thing that happened, you know, I had a gun pulled to my temple, but it was a misfire. So a gun was put to your head. So you were almost dead for a second. Oh, I was almost dead. So you think you might have been spared for a purpose. I was spared for a reason. After that moment, he says when the gun went click and he didn't die, he always wondered, why had God spared him that moment until he was on the platform. And he saw the guy fall off. He says then he knew. This is why I can do this. He's just, I can do this. I can do this. I can do that voice when that voice said that you're going to be OK. I knew everything was going to work out. You know what I think at the end of the day? What's that? I don't think that there's an answer to the question we asked. I don't think you're a question. Why were you a hero? I don't think that any three of these here, I mean, the last one had the longest explanation. He had been selected for some purpose. But does he know why he was so? Not a clue. A CIA. Guy number three gives me something. What does he give you? OK, so the first two, they have no idea. So there's just something in them that made them act. But guy number three is talking about circumstances. The world prepared him for that moment. Serendipity. So it makes me think, well, what if circumstances are just right? Maybe any of us could do that. I get a male man. He used to say to me all the time, he says, how did you manage to do that? How did you manage to pull him, kids? I don't know if I could have done that. I said, well, you know what? I'll say you wouldn't do this or you wouldn't do that to your put in that situation. In fact, when we asked Walter, how many nominations do you get a year? Are they hard to find? No, they are not hard at all to find. We are fortunate to be living in a society, regardless of what you hear elsewhere. We are fortunate to be living in a society where people do look out for others, even strangers. He told us they've even had to up their guidelines to make it harder to win. Simply because of the vast number of erotic deeds that happen in day-to-day life. I'm Mandy, and I'm Melissa, and this is Moms and Mysteries. We're two Florida Moms obsessed with true crime. From infamous cases like Ellen Greenberg to shocking Florida stories like the Dan Markelle killing. With 55 million downloads, we bring you new, deep dives every Tuesday and Thursday. Listen to Moms and Mysteries on Apple podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey, this is Radio Lab, I'm Chad Abumrod. I'm Robert Krillwich. Oh. Yes, I do. Would you like to say our topic, Robert? Our topic today is goodness. Niceness. Or altruism, we know they're bigger. And that's the fatter word. Yep, thus far, we've met a couple of folks, individuals who have struggled with altruism in some way. Now we're going to sort of pull back and go from specifics to grand, global strategy. Yes. Hello, hello. And we're going to tell you a really cool story, we think, the begins with this guy. My name is Robert Axel Rodd. I'm the Walgreens professor for the study of human understanding in the Department of Political Science and the Ford School of Public Policy of the University of Michigan. Oh, I know. I know that's a mouth. That was like your dean was looking over you to say it all. You say it all. Well, you know, you could just say I'm a professor of public policy and political science or something. But before he was all that, Axel Rodd, when he was in high school, he was one of those guys who just loved computers. Well, yes. In 1959, 1960, hung around the Northwestern University Computer Center. 59 and 60. So what were those large pizzas of furniture and refrigerated buildings? They were. In fact, the whole campus had one computer. And they let me use it for 15 minutes here and 15 minutes there. And what would you do with the computer? What I did, I did a very simple computer simulation of hypothetical life forms and environments for a science project. Really? Yeah. Your pre-geek is what you are. Yes. Before the word had been invented. I can't think you could say that. But then in 1962, when Axel Rodd was down in computer basement, I guess, somewhere, all over the world, everybody else was watching one of the great dramas in modern times. Good evening, my fellow citizens. Unfold. Cuban Missile Crisis. Within the past week, unmistakable evidence has established the fact that a series of offensive missile sites is now in preparation on that imprisoned island. And Axel Rodd started thinking about the dilemma we bring. Well, each site wants to spend more money buying missiles and things. You know, we could build more bombs, but then they could build more bombs. It would be better if they would both stop. But if we stop and they don't, that would be bad. Very bad. Yeah. And so I was interested in what were the conditions that would allow people to get out of this problem? And then he starts thinking, well, wait, maybe I could use my computer to help me figure out what's a good strategy for this? For something like the Cuban Missile Crisis? Well, yes, right. And what made you think that computers could help with that? Well, I came across a simple game called the Prisoner's Delena. Yeah, where are we at? I don't know. Noise from the window. OK, so the Prisoner's Delena is a very famous thought experiment. It's a little tricky to describe, but I got a friend of mine, Andrew Zolley, who's written about the Prisoner's Delena in an upcoming book. Resilience, the science of why things bounce back. I got him to lay it out for me. What is the Prisoner's Delena? So imagine that two bank robbers are hanging out across the street from the first national bank. And the police pick them up. They've received a tip that these two guys are about to rob the bank. Got it? Yep. So the cops take these two guys back to the station, do the whole law and order thing, put them in different rooms. They walk into each one. Let's call them Lucky and Joe. And they say to Lucky, we have enough to make sure that you go away for a six-month sentence. But this is not really what the cops want. They want a longer sentence for one of these guys, so they make Lucky an offer. If you, Lucky, rat out Joe. And Joe doesn't say anything, you will go free. And Joe will go to jail for 10 years. If the reverse happens. Meaning if you say nothing and Joe rats you out. You're going to jail for 10 years. And he's going to walk free. If you both end up ratting on each other, you both get five. Five years. Whereas if you both keep your mouth shut. You're each going to jail for six months for loitering. So somehow if Lucky and Joe could talk to each other, they both say don't speak. Absolutely. But the big problem that Lucky and Joe have is they can't talk to each other. All right, so you're lucky. OK? What do you do? Do you rat Joe out or not? Do I know this guy? At all? I mean, you met for this one job, but tomorrow you'll never see him again. Ever. Ever. Well, if I knew him and I could trust him, then I think I know what I would do. But if I don't know, I wouldn't get six months. I wouldn't keep his mouth shut. It would be a sweet thing. Indeed. But, season said, I don't know him. Well, what would happen if he rats me out? You would go to jail for 10 years. He'd go free. Bastard. 10 years. Yeah. But if I rat him out, and the worst I get is five years. Or, you know, I go away free. I'm totally free. Do it, Chris. I guess I'm throwing him under the bus. Yes, throw him under. What's his name again? Joe. Joe. You see he's already gone. I just mean so. He's already remembered him. You're dead to me, Joe. So you see, in this type of scenario where you don't know the guy, you have very strong incentive to rat the other guy out. Or is the social scientist, would say? To defect. That's right. If you play it only once, if you only meet somebody once, whatever the other guy does, you're better off defecting against them. Just here on out whenever you hear the word defect, know that it means screw the other guy over. But the really interesting stuff happens if you play over and over again, if you're going to meet the same people again. Because now you're thinking, should I help this guy out the next time? If you screwed me, should I screw him? But this secret, swift, extraordinary build up of communist missiles. What do you do? You want to cooperate, but you don't want to get screwed. Which cannot be accepted by this country. Right. These kind of thoughts were a paramount in those days because a prisoner's dilemma was being played between the two superpowers. This is our friend, Steve Strogh, that's the Cornell mathematician who says, at that time, well, kinds of folks. Political scientists and economists and psychologists, mathematicians. We're writing papers about the prisoner's dilemma. Literally, in thinking, come on, we've got to be able to win this game if we're going to play against the Russians. And we have to do it right. Exactly. But there was no consensus on the best way to do it. And so I was interested in what's a good strategy for this. And that's when Robert Axelrod sitting down there in the basement somewhere in the Midwest with the big computer. That's when he had his idea. His approach, which was really novel at the time, was to conduct a computer tournament. A computer tournament. Invite the people that had come up with these different ideas to play with each other. In other words, what he said is, all right, Mr. Wise Guy, you know, you've written so and so many articles on the prisoner's dilemma. You think you understand it. How about joining this tournament where you have to submit a program that will play prisoners dilemma against programs submitted by the other experts? We'll have a round robin. Right. Try these different programs against each other. So all these computer guys are brought to Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas, and where Tuxedos and they're all at the time of the table. No. It's a nice image. But what really happened was everyone submitted their programs to Axelrod. They would mail their entries to me. But there was a trophy. There was a trophy. So I wrote to people and I said, if you win, I'll send you a trophy. You know, a little plaque that says you won the computer tournament. OK, so here's the deal. Every program will play every other program 200 times. They will be points in each round. And then Axelrod will total the scores and see what actually work. By which he means, in the long run, even if you lose some rounds here and there, one of these strategies is going to beat all the others, meaning it'll let you survive. Maybe even prosper. That's the game. That's right. And can you introduce us to some of the contestants? Yeah. So there was one program called Massive Retaliatory Strike. And the first move, which is cooperates. But then as soon as the other program doesn't cooperate? It would then retaliate for the rest of the game. Like, sorry, man. You blew it. I'll never trust you again. Yeah. That's it for you. This is like the way my wife was. Whenever a guy in her earlier life stood her up, that was it. Game over. But there were also some trickier programs. I mean, some crafty ones try to make a model of the opponent. Like you mentioned one that was called Tester. So Tester would see what you were like. It would start by being mean. And then if you start retaliating, it backs off and says, oh, chill. It's a game, man. And then starts cooperating for a while. Until it throws in another test. The other guy goes after what was called Tester. Yeah. So Tester is designed to see how much it could get away with. I mean, it sounds kind of sensible in a way. I mean, mean. Well, but if you think about what happens if these two players play each other? If Tester plays Massive Retaliation 200 times, pretty soon the Tester will affect. And then Massive Retaliation will never cooperate again. Who are you, pal? Man, no, it's who you. Let's go. You're not going to do this. You're not going to do this. So in fact, it's very badly both of them. When you're sitting there, did you have a hunch as to which would be the most successful program? Or were you? Well, I didn't know, which is why I wanted to do it. But I did have a hunch that thousands or tens of thousands of lines of code would be needed to have a pretty confident program. So when the mailman delivers the fattest envelope to your house, you look, this could be the one. They have well, yes, right? Now it didn't turn out that way. When it was all said and done, when he loaded all the programs into the computer, when they'd all played each other 200 times, the program that won? It's really two lines of code. Two lines of code? Yeah, it's got a simple name. It's called tit for tat. First line of code? B. Nice. Nice? Yeah, nice. Nice is a technical word in this game. Nice means I never amnesty first. And after that, second line of code, it just does what the other player did on the previous move. So if the other player has just cooperated, it'll cooperate. If the other player has just defected, it'll defect. It retaliates on the next move. Couldn't be clearer. On the other hand, it only retaliates that one time. I mean, unless provoked further. It does its retaliation and now bygones or bygones and that's it. So how exactly did it win? I mean, can you give us a sense of why it won? OK, so let's suppose here, let's take an extreme case of some very simple programs. One of them I'll call Jesus. Just for the sake of our names. Just call the sake of our names. Now, the Jesus program cooperates on every turn. That is, it's always good. Yeah. So the Jesus program is a simple algorithm that says always be good. Good, good, good, good. That's right. And let's say the other program is the Lucifer program, which no matter what always is bad. OK. These are your two extremes, Cestief. And of course, most programs and most people fall somewhere in the middle. But in Tiffa Tatt, you've got a strategy that can swing both ways. For instance, with Jesus, Tiffa Tatt starts by cooperating as does Jesus. And then they're going to keep cooperating for the whole 200 rounds, which is, you know, good. But now let's suppose it plays Lucifer, where there's no chance to cooperate. Then says Steve Tiffa Tatt just plays good defense. So when Lucifer does his thing, Tiffa Tatt retaliates. And they pretty much keep doing that and stay even. So in other words, it's a very robust program. It elicits cooperation if the opponent has any inclination to cooperate. But it doesn't take any guff. And it wins. So you might say in evolutionary terms, this program is the fist. So actually Axelrod played an evolutionary version of his tournament that is he had these programs after they played their tournament, get a chance to reproduce copies of themselves according to how well they did. You mean the winners would get to have more babies? Yeah. And then would the babies play each other? Yeah, he ran them again. I mean, he ran them for many generations. And so like, suppose you have a world of Lucifer's. And there are a few Tiffa Tatt players out there. Can they thrive? Can cooperation emerge in this horribly hostile world? Oh, an interesting question. So he looked at that. And the answer was, if you have enough of them so that they have enough chance of meeting each other, they can actually invade and take over the world, even if the world starts horribly mean. I mean, what I take to be the big message though, I mean, what always sent chills down my spine is that we see this version of morality around the world. We see this as a way to be upright, forgiving, but retaliatory. I mean, that sounds to me like the Old Testament. It's not turned the other cheek. It's an eye for an eye. But not ten eyes for an eye. And to think that it's not something that's handed down by our teachers or by God, but that it's something that came from biology. I like that argument personally. From biology. From biology. Now, do we know whether the math has anything to do with real people in real life situations? Or are we just abstracting behavior? Is this wise or is this just math? This is what's so impressive to me about Axel Rodd's work. So he's not just playing math games. He tries to tie this to history and politics as seen. I like to scan journals. One of my happenings is past Angus. It's part of my profession. But I came across a book called The Live and Let Live System in World War I. So here's where we jump away from the math and the computer tournaments and into something very real. The word began late in July 1914. That's Stan Lee Wine Trail. Expert in World War I. Evan Fue, Professor Emeritus at Penn State. The story that Stan's going to help us tell takes place on what was called the Western Front, which was basically these two lines of trenches. Very close to each other. A few hundred yards apart. And they stretched for hundreds of miles. And that fall. In November, the weather turned bad. Heavy rains. Then it became icy. And then slush. And then snow. It became disgusting because the trenches also were filled with rats. It rats. The rats went after not only the food, but after corpses. And it was oddly in this miserable disgusting hell hole that something quite amazing happened. No one quite knows how it started. But one day, maybe around daybreak, let's say, while the two sides were fighting, some of the British soldiers stopped firing long enough to have breakfast. And as they were eating, they noticed, the Germans stopped, too, to have their breakfast. When they're both done. They'd begin firing again. Next morning, same thing. British take their breakfast break at about the same time. The Germans do the same thing. Morning after that, the same thing. And then the next. And after a while. Both sides caught on. If they didn't interrupt the other one, then they wouldn't be interrupted. On the whole, there is silence. This is from a letter a British soldier sent home to his wife at the time. After all, if you prevent your enemy from drawing his rations, his remedy is simple. He will prevent you from drawing yours. When Axelrod read this. I thought, gee, this sounds very familiar. Line one of tit for tat. Be nice first. Now, the Brits probably didn't mean to be nice first when they started the breakfast truce, but it happened. And then the Germans reciprocated, which is line two. Now, keep in mind, these two sides are at war and implicit in line two is a threat. You mess with me. I'm going to mess with you. Well, think about snipers, for example. So there's letters where they explain where the snipers would shoot at a tree over and over and over again showing that, in fact, they were really accurate, meaning that if they wanted to kill you, they'd get you. And this was going on during the breakfast truce. And these little agreements, you know, like, I'm going to be nice to you, but I could kick your ass. Don't forget. Well, these little truce is spread all up and down the Western front until things really changed. Fast forward to December, Christmas Eve. The climate was just about freezing on Christmas Eve. And the Germans had a tradition of tabletop Christmas trees, small trees. For weeks, he said the German government had been shipping small trees literally to the trenches, hundreds and hundreds of trees. In that night, on Christmas Eve, at dusk, the Germans began putting up their trees, mounted them on the remittor trench, and lit candles on them, singing Christmas carols. The British who might have been no more than 50 or 70 yards away crawled forward into No Man's Land to see better. And then they were spotted. Here's a letter from a German soldier sent home to his family, which describes what happened next. I shouted to our enemies that we didn't wish to shoot. I said, we could speak to each other. At first, there was silence. And then very slowly, out of the darkness, the British guys approached. And so we came together and shook hands. See, this is where I start to think, are you making this out? Because this is where it starts to sound sort of crazy to me. That's a Pat Walters, our producer. It sounds as if this is being made up. And the result was, for many decades, people assumed that this was just myth. It couldn't possibly have happened. But we know what had happened, because we have the letters that the British and the Germans sent back home. We know that they met in darkness and decided, why don't we have a truth in the morning? Next morning, thousands of soldiers put down their rifles, climbed out of their trenches into No Man's Land, and started hanging out with each other. A lot of us went over and talked to them. And this lasted the whole morning. I talked to several of them. And I must say they seemed extraordinarily fine men. Soldiers got together, started fires, cooked Christmas dinners, swapped presents and drank. The Germans hauled out these enormous, they traded stuff, the gars and trinkets, even helped one another. Very the dead. And in some places in the Western Front, this period of goodwill lasted a whole week. But then the generals found out. They were very angry about this. And they said, if we didn't send you to the front to be nice to the other guys, we'd send a kill them. If the general says, hey, I want you to shoot those Germans. That's an order. Well, then they wouldn't let. Oh, sorry, generally missed. But I'll try again better next time. Way the generals finally figured out how to disrupt this whole thing as they would say, OK, you guys go out on a raid. And I want you to bring back a prisoner or a corpse. In other words, show me a scalp. That's an order. And that messes things up a royally. Here's a letter from a British soldier whose unit contained a band, which was apparently pretty common. He writes this letter about one of the moments when the truce vanished. At six minutes to midnight, the band opened with divakdom right. Which is a German patriotic anthem. So some of the Germans, according to this letter, climbed up onto the rim of their trench to listen to this English band playing their song. From right to right to right to right. Then is the last note sound. Every grenade firing rifle, trench mortar, and bomb throwing machine let fly simultaneously into the German trench. So you can imagine the Germans that weren't killed would have felt betrayed. They had just been hanging out with these guys. And the next night they would have attacked back. And the British would have attacked them back. And then the Germans would have retaliated against them and on and on and on. And it would kind of echo back and forth forever. And that's what happened. There were immense casualties as many as 50,000 casualties in a day. And this says Axel Rottes, where you see sort of the dark side of tit for tat. One of the weaknesses of the tit for tat strategy or one of the problems with it is these echoes. Not just echoes of good, obviously, but echoes of violence. It could get bad. So what I found though was that instead of playing pure tit for tat, where you always defect at the other guy defects. There are certain circumstances, as he says. And this I find completely fascinating, where you want to modify that second line of code so that you're not always retaliating. You're nearly always retaliating. If you were a little bit generous, by which I mean, say, 10% of the time you don't defect, then what happens is that these echoes will stop. And I would call that generous tit for tat. So this is kind of interesting. Like we started with Moses, you know, I for an I. But here it's saying, maybe for every nine parts Moses, you need one part Jesus. You know, I mean, like turn the other cheek. It sounds like you described like a cooking recipe or something. Well, like nine parts once. Yeah, I mean, if you abstracted it, it's kind of a recipe. It's a recipe for life. But it isn't a recipe. That ignores the deep fact of it. Look, if I were punching you in the face right now, what are you gonna do? I'm gonna punch you back. Yeah, and I'm gonna punch you back. You punch me back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. I'm gonna punch you back. It works for computers, it works for people, it probably works for Meeba. Okay? It just works. And you think that exists on some higher plane? I do. I do. I don't. I think this is still, as you just called it, very personal. I think a person has to choose to be kind. No, I'm gonna make that choice right now then. Okay? You know you're irritating me. I'm gonna say to you. Robert, you look very nice today. You know what I'm gonna do to you? Alright, enough of this. RadioLab.org is our online home. You can read lots of stuff there and you can subscribe to our podcast. This is www. That's implied. Yeah. Hi, I'm Shavant from Muri and I'm from Mumbai and here are the staff credits. RadioLab is hosted by Lulu Middle and Latif Nasar. Soren Wheeler is our executive editor. Sarah Sandback is our executive director. Our managing editor is Pat Walters. Didn't Keef is our director of sound design. Our staff includes Jeremy Bloom, W. Harry Fortuna, David Gable, Maria Paz Gutiérrez, Sindhu Nyanasambandhan, Matt Kiyalty, Mona Madgaukar, Annie McEwan, Alex Nesan, Sarah Kari, Anisa Vizza, Arion Wack, Molly Webster, and Jessica Young, with help from Rebecca Rand. 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