Essay Three - Are we 'Fallen Angels' or 'Risen Apes' (and is there any Substantive Difference)?

We have had 150 years to reconsider, from a scientific perspective, what it is to be human. We have had the same length of time to reconsider much the same question from a theological perspective knowing what we now know about our biological heritage. How far have we really got? Or, as I suggested earlier, have we largely overlooked the fact of our own existence preferring to look outwards rather than inwards.

When Darwin published 'On The Origin of Species', he was careful not to say anything specific about human origins. His task was really to provide the notion of evolution (which was itself not new) with a feasible mechanism whereby it could operate. That mechanism was natural selection and is not the only mechanism we now know to be involved. Another, that we have already touched upon, is sexual selection which involves attraction amongst other things; yet another is genetic drift where random influences on gene frequencies occur.

Significantly, on the topic of human evolution, all Darwin would say in 'The Origin' was that light would eventually be thrown on the matter. This is, at the same time, an enigmatic and even tantalizing comment but it was also a very wise stance to have taken given the furore that followed when a book ostensibly about plants and animals rattled the Victorian image of humankind. Darwin was aware of this probability. To have included questions about human evolution in 'The Origin' would have been to draw people's attention away from the task at hand.

The traditional view of humankind had always been that it was something special; set apart from the rest of creation. We were in some way created 'a little lower than the angels' but, at the same time, better than them in that they were mere automata doing God's bidding without question. We, on the other hand, were created in God's image; we had freewill. Yet, even if one does not accept the literal account of the first few chapters of Genesis, still there is a clear sense in which we have a 'fallen nature'. We fall short of some ideal standard - whether we think of it as a standard set by God or as some innate tendency for unfulfilled improvement.

The suggestion that we have evolved from some pre-human ancestor literally turns the old views upside down. Instead of a descent from some venerable ancestor from whom we might draw a certain kudos, we have an ascent from something quite rude and primitive; something best kept locked away in the proverbial Victorian attic.

That we have evolved from ape-like ancestors raises a number of questions about our nature. We have not always been human; we have not always been special, separate from the rest of the animal kingdom; we have not always been angelic. In fact, we have never been any of the special things previously assumed. Indeed, it is now evident that human and animal behaviour is not entirely distinct; that there is a continuity and even a commonality of behaviours seen in different species. While we may now be 'human', 'human', we have come to realise, means being a lot more animal than previously assumed.

So, if there are no noble ancestors to boast about, can we not draw comfort from the progress that our species has demonstrated. Certainly, as human beings, we now have abilities that no other creature has ever demonstrated; after all, it was Mankind that achieved the first Moon landing forty years ago next month, not just a couple of American men.

The very idea of human progress has a long history and the fundamental question of whether there is something inevitably progressive in the human story is still, it appears, unresolved. One may be able to perform increasingly more amazing technological feats but how significant are they really in terms of defining Man; of understanding what we are? And can it really be taken for granted that each generation will in some way or another build upon and rise higher than the former? Or is some dystopian future - the type often portrayed in films and with which there appears to be a certain obsession - really a possibility? Indeed, have we narrowly avoided careering towards such fates in the past without realising it?

(See also: A (Pictorial) Ascent of Man(kind))

Given our long evolutionary history, a question often asked is when did our ancestors become modern human beings. This is a key question in anthropology and palaeontology. However, while these sciences can address questions about changes in the physical features of our ancestors and suggest names that serve as signposts along the road to modern humanity, questions about the origins of things that don't fossilize or leave behind cultural artefacts - things like language, moral codes, spiritual beliefs etc - are more difficult to answer and can at best be addressed only indirectly. Unfortunately, these questions seem to be about the very qualities that mark us out as distinctly human.

There are issues quite outside the merely biological sphere that result from asking about the emergence of modern humans. For example, when (and how) did pre-humans become human enough to warrant salvation? I think I've only ever heard this question asked once and I'm still not entirely sure how one goes about answering it. And what might this question say about notions of salvation? What in us gets saved? What in our more ape-like ancestors did not? Did all members of our species become 'save-able' at the same moment in history? Or did it start within one family or tribal unit which then went on to populate the globe with saveable, spiritual people? Does intellectual or technological status have anything to do with it? Indeed, could we have evolved to be entirely non-spiritual beings?

And what of the future? If we are 'risen apes', does it necessarily follow that there is an end point towards which our species is inevitably heading (or being directed)? Or, if not an end point, is it perhaps the attainment of a certain minimum standard of self-awareness or ability to reflect that is needed.

We have all come from the most humble of origins and this is potentially most disconcerting - there is nothing special in our family tree; no ancestors who walked and talked with God in a beautiful garden. However, while there are those who react with disgust at any suggestion of our having ape-like ancestors, as if that were to defile them in some way, how important are one's origins? Is the person who is conceived in vitro any different from the person who is conceived in utero? Indeed, I am not aware that there is any way of distinguishing between them physically. Another anniversary this year is that of the birth (10 years ago and by natural means) of the first child to a woman who was herself conceived by in vitro fertilization. No one doubts their humanity even though their origins were somewhat out of the ordinary.

To Consider:

• The juxtaposition of the biological and the spiritual.

• What is salvation? What/Who gets 'saved'?