john hawks weblog

paleoanthropology, genetics and evolution

game theory

  • Inclusive fitness works

    Wed, 2010-09-01 07:53 -- John Hawks

    I can't believe the amount of attention the paper by Martin Nowak, Corina Tarnita and Edward O. Wilson [1] has gotten. It was in last week's Nature. The basic idea was that the evolution of eusociality in insects could be explained in a different way that the usual explanation, which involves calculating the relatedness of worker insects to their reproductive siblings. Eusociality has been one of the most visible applications of inclusive fitness theory -- that is, the observation that the fitness of a gene that alters behavior may be calculated in terms of its effects on the reproduction and survival of relatives. The paper notes that some aspects of eusociality are not well explained in terms of relatedness, and derives an alternative explanation.

    The weird part of the paper is the way it describes inclusive fitness as some kind of theoretical afterthought, useful only as an ad hoc explanation for eusocial insects. It contrasts the inclusive fitness concept with "standard natural selection" as if it were possible for organisms to erase the fact that they're related to each other! And the authors imply that they have fatally damaged the concept of kin selection.

    It's so contrary to evolutionary theory, that I thought maybe I was missing something. But I've been spending time on another problem this week and haven't had time to follow it up.

    Fortunately, Jerry Coyne and Richard Dawkins have both given the paper some attention, and written notes and reactions to it. First Coyne ("A misguided attack on kin selection") reminds us of why kin selection has been such a successful part of "standard" evolutionary theory for the past fifty years.

    Sex ratio theory, in which mothers produce different proportions of males and females, has been a particularly fruitful area for applying inclusive fitness theory. So has “altruism”—suicidal honeybees are just one example. And so are parental care and aspects thereof, especially parent-offspring conflict, a field brought to life by Bob Trivers using inclusive fitness theory. How else can you explain weaning conflict except by a conflict between the mother’s genetic welfare and that of her offspring?

    I’m baffled not only by Nowak et al.’s apparent and willful ignorance of the literature, but by statements that are just wrong. They flatly assert, for instance, that “inclusive fitness theory” is something different from “standard natural selection theory.” But it’s not: it’s simply a natural extension of population genetics to the situation in which one’s behavior affects related individuals.

    Richard Dawkins has also posted notes about the paper:

    Kin selection is not a subset of group selection, it is a logical consequence of gene selection. And gene selection is (everything that Nowak et al ought to mean by) 'standard natural selection' theory: has been ever since the neo-Darwinian synthesis of the 1930s. Inclusive fitness theory is not some kind of supernumerary excrescence, to be 'resorted to' only if 'standard natural selection theory' is found wanting (Misunderstanding One). On the contrary, inclusive fitness theory is one way of expressing what was logically inherent in the synthesis ever since Fisher and Haldane, but had been largely overlooked because people (with the exception of those two geniuses) didn't think about collateral kin.

    Yes, unless they're going to repeal the Price equation, they'll have to rely on relatedness to explain those phenotypes that never occur in reproductive individuals. As Dawkins puts it, "You have to talk about shared genes in individuals, with conditional phenotypic expression."


    References

    1. Nowak MA, Tarnita CE, and Wilson EO. 2010. The evolution of eusociality. Nature [Internet] 466:1057–1062. Available from: http://dx.doi.org/10.1038/nature09205
  • Hangman strategy

    Thu, 2010-08-26 08:30 -- John Hawks

    You may have seen that story about "jazz" being the hardest Hangman word. Personally, I always figure that such a short word is hardly fair, but I'm not that good at Hangman. The inside story of how they figured out the hardest words is kind of interesting -- it involves a guy writing a Mathematica Demonstration to play Hangman and his daughter getting annoyed at never being able to beat the computer and its dictionary.

    (via Chad Orzel)

  • A Snowdrift game version of hunting

    Fri, 2009-06-05 23:39 -- John Hawks

    I want to run through some examples of how we can apply game theory to consider hunting decisions in human groups. First, I describe a simple Snowdrift model applied to hunting. This is part 2 of a series, part 1 introduces the topic of the Snowdrift game.

    A reader sent along a story after reading the first post:

    In reading your snowdrift blog post, I was reminded of an experiment that does not require game theory to understand. You may have heard of it. Two pigs are in a pen. One is dominant. To get food one of them presses a bar, but the food is dispensed at the other side of the pen. If the subdominant pig presses the bar, it gets no reward, as the dominant pig hogs the food, eating it all. The result is that the dominant pig presses the bar while the subdominant pig waits at the food trough. Then the dominant pig rushes over to the trough to push the subdominant pig aside. Both pigs get fed, but the dominant pig does all the work

    It's a great example of asymmetrical rewards. I'll get to those in the next few posts on this topic, because the asymmetries are very important to understanding dynamics in hunter-gatherers. But first, we have to describe the simple symmetrical case, including the algebra defining the evolutionarily stable equilibrium between the two simple strategies.

    Suppose we have two hunters, who will share whatever game either of them kills. A man may choose on a given day to hunt. By hunting, he suffers a cost c and brings back a large fixed benefit b for each man. The two men may both choose to hunt on the same day, resulting in the same benefit b but a lowered cost c∕2 for each man. The two men decide whether to hunt simultaneously and without conferring — that is, there is no information transfer between them that would affect their decisions.

    Here is the payoff matrix of the game for player 1 (choices on left) given the strategy selected by player 2 (on top):

    hunt no hunt
    hunt b - c∕2 b - c
    no hunt b 0

    Given the existence of the two strategies, “hunt” and “no hunt,” the ESS is the ratio at which the two strategies have equal expected returns. If individuals select a strategy and do not vary, the ESS represents the frequency of these variants in the population. If in contrast, individuals can choose to adopt either strategy, then the ESS also will be the optimal proportion of the two strategies in one individual’s repertoire. The two strategies will yield equal payoffs when the ESS satisfies the following equation, where p represents the proportion of “hunt” and 1 - p the proportion of “no hunt”:

    p(b- c∕2)+ (1- p)(b - c) = pb
    (1)

    …which simplifies to p = 2(b - c)(2b - c). That expression is positive where b > c, and approaches unity where c is very small relative to b. If in contrast b c then the scenario is the Prisoner’s Dilemma, where the only ESS is a pure “no hunt” strategy.

    Let’s also look at a slightly different case. As above, each man’s return from hunting will be b regardless of whether one man or both choose to hunt. But in the payoff matrix below, the cost of hunting is also the same whether one man or both choose to hunt. So there is no reduction in the cost of hunting if both men do it.

    hunt no hunt
    hunt b - c b - c
    no hunt b 0

    Now, in this case, the ESS satisfies the equation:

    p(b- c)+ (1- p)(b - c) = pb
    (2)

    Again, p is the frequency of the “hunt” strategy. This simplifies to p = (b-c)∕b, which again yields the Prisoner’s Dilemma when b < c.

    OK, that’s the simple Snowdrift game model, described in the language of hunting instead of winter car accidents. It is quite simplistic in many ways. We might expect real hunters to have successes and costs that vary as stochastic functions of the environment. A real hunter must decide whether to hunt based not only on the odds his companion will hunt, but also upon some appraisal of the companion’s likelihood of success. Men in hunting societies are not paired up by the buddy system, but instead make their decisions about hunting in the context of a larger group’s activities.

    Maybe most confusing, there are two possible kinds of currency in which benefits and costs may be expressed. A benefit from hunting may be most naturally measured in calories. If we average hunting returns across many episodes, then our result would be mean calories per day, or per hour of effort. Likewise, it might seem natural to discuss costs in terms of calories, as we might consider the cost of locomotion or cost of transport associated with foraging.

    But the only currency that matters to evolution is fitness. We cannot assume that maximizing caloric returns will maximize fitness. Transport and locomotor costs may be minor compared to the mortality risk from predation when foraging far from camp. The caloric benefits from hunting matter more to a starving child than to a satiated adult.

    So the measures of costs and benefits that define the ESS should be expressed in terms of fitness. That’s a problem, because fitness outcomes are a lot harder to measure than caloric returns. To figure out caloric expenditure and returns, you can measure oxygen consumption, work out distances, and weigh meat. To measure fitness, you have to record lifetime reproduction. To assess the relationship between caloric returns and fitness, you need a lifetime of caloric returns.

    So far, hunter-gatherer demographic data and hunting returns are both known from a small number of transverse studies. Longitudinal data on hunter-gatherer demography are limited, and mostly known by retrospective methods — that is, informants share their knowledge about the history of their groups. The fitness effects of a single individual’s hunting effort over time are not known.

    If fitness outcomes are hard for the scientist to measure, they are equally hard for a social actor to predict. Even intelligent actors like humans know little about the effects of their actions upon their future reproduction. Men sometimes do poorly with information directly relevant to fitness, like “Is the child mine?” That’s not to say that men may not follow highly sophisticated strategies to allocate hunting effort. But we should develop explanations that do not assume that a man knows the fitness benefits and costs of his choices.

    Next: Life history and asymmetrical strategies

  • Snowdrift games, cooperation, and "tragedy of the commune"

    Tue, 2009-06-02 23:27 -- John Hawks

    It’s the second day of June, which means it’s a good time to consider snowdrifts. OK, maybe not – but at least we’re far enough from winter now that the thought of snowdrifts out the window isn’t enough to give me a chill.

    The Snowdrift Game is a theoretical model of cooperation within the context of game theory. I gave a short introduction to game theory a couple of years ago, focusing on the games of Chicken and the Prisoner’s Dilemma. There are really only two formal varieties of two-player games involving cooperation or defection in the absence of information transfer. When defection is always the optimal strategy, it’s the Prisoner’s Dilemma. When a mixed strategy of cooperation and defection is optimal, it’s Chicken.

    But there are other names for this game. I’m not sure why, exactly—I suppose it’s because teenage boys in dragsters don’t appeal to everybody. One familiar name is the Hawk-Dove game. An individual can adopt two strategies: either attack and fight for a resource, or share equally and retreat when attacked. In the game, fighting carries a high cost (like wrecking your car into somebody) so a mixed strategy is optimal. When hawks are common, it’s better to be a dove and avoid fighting. When doves are common, it’s better to be a hawk because you always win.

    A third name for this game is Snowdrift. Imagine you’re riding in a car that becomes stuck in a snowdrift. You and a fellow passenger share the same interest: you both want the snowdrift to be removed. But who’s going to get out and shovel? It might seem fair just to get out and shovel the snow together—in other words, to cooperate. But what if the other passenger just sits there and refuses to help? If the cost of shoveling is low compared to the benefit of getting out of the drift, it will be in your interest to shovel by yourself. Sure, the other passenger is a freeloader who shares the benefit undeservedly, but so what? If the cost of shoveling was too high for you to bear, you’d have refused to do it, letting both of you freeze there. That would be the Prisoner’s Dilemma. But if the cost of shoveling is low compared to the costs of doing nothing, then a mixed strategy will be optimal. As long as freeloaders aren’t too common, that strategy will pay off. So a population engaged in the Snowdrift game will come to a mixed proportion of shovelers and freeloaders.

    Doebeli et al. (2004) considered the Snowdrift game as a model for the evolution of cooperation. A mixed strategy of cooperation and defection can emerge under a Snowdrift game system of payoffs, which makes it very different from the Prisoner’s Dilemma. Remember that in the Prisoner’s Dilemma, defection always generates a higher payoff than cooperation, regardless of the opponent’s strategy. So stable cooperation can only evolve under a Prisoner’s Dilemma system of payoffs if some kind of information transfer is possible. One example is the Iterated Prisoner’s Dilemma, in which two players encounter each other repeatedly. In this circumstance, one player can punish defection, leading to conditional strategies — the most famous of which is “tit for tat” — that yield a positive payoff for cooperation. It is worth pointing out that the cumulative payoffs under “tit for tat” or other conditional strategies come to approximate the payoffs of the Snowdrift game. The transfer of information changes one payoff structure into another.

    Here, we have unveiled a different paradox of cooperation, which could be termed the ”tragedy of the commune”: In a cooperative system, in which every individual contributes to a common good and benefits from its own investment, selection does not always generate the evolution of uniform and intermediate investment levels but may instead lead to an asymmetric stable state, in which some individuals make high levels of cooperative investment and others invest little or nothing.

    In practice, it is often difficult to determine the payoffs in social interactions and hence to distinguish prisoner’s dilemma and snowdrift interactions [a phage system marks a rare exception, but interestingly, selection turns the prisoner’s dilemma into a snowdrift game (24)]. Nevertheless, the mere existence of high- and low-investing individuals has often been taken as prima facie evidence that the interaction is governed by a prisoner’s dilemma, with some additional mechanism, such as reciprocity, responsible for the co-existence of altruists and nonaltruists. The tragedy of the commune, however, provides a quite different and, in many ways, simpler explanation for the coexistence of high- and low-investing individuals, which potentially applies to a wide range of cooperative and communal enterprises in biological systems (Doebeli et al. 2004:861–862).

    How is this relevant to paleoanthropology? The last paragraph of the paper suggests one way:

    In behavioral ecology, classical examples of cooperation include collective hunting and territory defense in lions (28), predator inspection in sticklebacks (29), and alarm calls in meerkats (30). In theoretical discussions of these examples, the existence of cooperators providing a common good and defectors exploiting it has been assumed a priori. The tragedy of the commune, however, suggests an evolutionary mechanism for the emergence of distinct behavioral patterns with differing degrees of provisions to the common good. This mechanism may also apply to cultural evolution in human societies, in which large differences in cooperative contributions to communal enterprises could give rise to conflicts on the basis of accepted notions of fairness (Doebeli et al. 2004:862).

    Food sharing in human hunter-gatherers includes many asymmetries. For example, hunters differ greatly in their hunting returns and expenditure of effort. Yet good hunters tolerate the presence of poor hunters and share food with them. As with hunting but extended to both men and women, people invest greatly varying degrees of effort into gathering plant foods, with resulting variation in caloric returns. Some of the variation in investment and success is age-related, some is likely directly environmentally induced, and some may reflect frequency-dependent strategies.

    Over the next few days, I’ll be considering human hunting from the perspective of the Snowdrift game. I’ll start with some very simple deterministic models and then try to make them a bit more relevant by considering the effects of stochastic payoffs and asymmetries among players.

    Next: Defining the Snowdrift game for hunting

    References:

       Doebeli M, Hauert C, Killingback T. 2004. The evolutionary origin of cooperators and defectors. Science 306:859–862. doi:10.1126/science.1101456.

  • Thomas Schelling on military strategy and academia

    Sun, 2008-06-22 17:30 -- John Hawks

    Thomas Schelling, on page 8 of his The Strategy of Conflict (Amazon):

    Within the universities, military strategy in this country has been the preoccupation of a small number of historians and political scientists, supported on a scale htat suggests that deterring the Russians from a conquest of Europe is about as important as enforcing the antitrust laws.

    Strategy of Conflict was first published in 1960, and clearly matters changed by the second edition in 1980. By the time I was an undergraduate, I took a course in international politics from an old warhorse of a political scientist, who introduced me to game theory, mutually assured destruction, and the other fundamentals of Schelling's theses.

  • Reviewing frequency-dependent selection on MHC

    Tue, 2007-10-30 15:13 -- John Hawks

    Mystery Rays from Outer Space wrote earlier this month about the pattern of selection on MHC, bringing up the question of whether overdominance (heterozygote advantage) or frequency dependence is the reigning pattern. This post focuses on some evidence supporting the hypothesis of frequency dependence.

    Even on a short scale, alleles appear and disappear at a great rate. My favourite example of this is the map on the right 8 (I liked it so much I scanned it, years ago; I don't have access to the 1996 issues of Science on line. Click on the map for a larger version). This shows what happened to MHC diversity during the peopling of the Americas. You can see new alleles popping up down the migration route -- but the key point I want to make is made by the authors in a different paper: "Although many new HLA-B alleles have been produced in Latin America, their net effect has been to differentiate populations, not to increase allele diversity within a population."

    In other words, rare old MHC alleles are not selected, but disappear, while rare new alleles are selected. This is consistent with the predictions of frequency-dependent selection than of overdominance, I think. But there are also lots of strong arguments for overdominant selection, some of which I'll mention next time around.

    The post is notable for links back into the literature, and it will be interesting to see his next installment. Also in recent weeks he has posted a short review of the MHC molecules, and a look at how the structure of HLA-A2 was worked out.

    That figure shows a little bit of undefined, unresolved mist (in pink) in the middle of the reasonably well-defined HLA-A2 molecule. The location of that little bit of mist, and its very mistiness, were the stunning part of the paper.

    Oh, and a nice little post about MHC and the Tasmanian Devil tumor problem. That's a good one for Halloween.

    (via Sandwalk)

  • Nowak profiled

    Tue, 2007-07-31 21:56 -- John Hawks

    Carl Zimmer's profile of mathematical biologist Martin Nowak is well worth reading. Zimmer does a good job of describing the relevance of Nowak's modeling work, centered on the Prisoner's Dilemma:

    Dr. Nowak and his colleagues found that when they put players into a network, the Prisoner's Dilemma played out differently. Tight clusters of cooperators emerge, and defectors elsewhere in the network are not able to undermine their altruism. "Even if outside our network there are cheaters, we still help each other a lot," Dr. Nowak said. That is not to say that cooperation always emerges. Dr. Nowak identified the conditions when it can arise with a simple equation: B/C>K. That is, cooperation will emerge if the benefit-to-cost (B/C) ratio of cooperation is greater than the average number of neighbors (K).

    "It's the simplest possible thing you could have expected, and it's completely amazing," he said.

    This work branches out into cancer etiology and social dynamics, among other things. My students will be reminded that I think the Prisoner's Dilemma is overrated -- but that's a topic for another day...

    (not via Gene Expression, although Razib got there first!)

  • And you thought emus came in mobs

    Mon, 2007-03-05 22:22 -- John Hawks

    AP writer Randolph Schmid tells the story of the cowbird protection racket:

    To see what would happen, Hoover and Robinson watched where the cowbirds left eggs in warbler nests, and then removed some of them.

    They found that 56 percent of the nests where cowbird eggs were removed were later ransacked.

    They also found evidence of what they called 'farming' behavior,' in which cowbirds destroyed a nest to force the host bird to build another. The cowbird then synchronized its egg laying with the hosts' 'renest' attempt.

    It stands to reason that there would be more to this story -- I mean, warblers can be stupid, but it ought to be incredibly maladaptive to take care of the cowbird hatchlings. Cowbird eggs do tend to look similar to the host species' eggs, but the selection on the hosts to recognize and eject foreign eggs should be very powerful. The part of the story that is missing (and really necessary to make it comprehensible) is that cowbirds leave their eggs together with the host birds' eggs. Nest crashing reduces the payoff for warblers in detecting and ejecting cowbird eggs, because it imposes a high chance of nest and egg loss.

    This is a crazy situation for working out optimal strategies. I wonder if there isn't more complexity here -- in the form of polymorphisms in the host species -- than has yet been recognized.

  • Game theory and developmental robusticity

    Fri, 2007-03-02 18:53 -- John Hawks

    The introduction of game theory into evolutionary biology is often credited to George Price and John Maynard Smith. This is for good reason; together they were able to generalize Hamilton's (1967) work on parental investment strategies. By doing so, they provided an account of the evolution of variant strategies of many kinds from a gene-centered perspective.

    Before their landmark contribution, there had been earlier forays attempting to integrate a game theoretic perspective into evolutionary terms. Hamilton's own work was immensely important, since his "unbeatable strategy" concept was a clear precursor of the ESS concept. Additionally, we should include the series of papers by Richard Levins (e.g., 1963), which considered the optimum adaptive solutions for various problems relating to spatial and temporal changes in the environment. These didn't explicitly involve the terminology of game theory, but dealt with the mathematical conditions under which variant strategies would pay off.

    But the earliest major paper was Richard Lewontin's "Evolution and the Theory of Games," published in 1961 (and presaging Maynard Smith's own 1982 book of the same title). This paper introduced the concepts of game theory to many biologists, and some of them started playing with the ideas in interesting ways that weren't ultimately integrated into the later development of evolutionary game theory.

    Waddington on game theory

    One of these interesting early efforts is a short paper by C. H. Waddington (1965), which served as an introduction to a symposium on the evolution of colonizing species. Waddington discussed Lewontin's 1961 paper in some detail, and used it to frame the problem of colonizing versus noncolonizing species. He took these two alternatives as possible strategies that a species might adopt in its contest against Nature.

    This is an unusual formulation from the perspective of later evolutionary game theory, and reminiscent of "good of the species" Wynne-Edwards-type thinking, but Waddington lays it out very clearly:

    In the "evolution game" which it is playing, a species has to contend with unforeseen eventualities which the future may bring -- a new parasite, a new predator, possibly an Ice Age. Another element of uncertainty arises from the fact that there may be several different ways in which the species makes a place for itself within the whole ecological network available for its exploitation -- it could change its food habits or length of life cycle, or it could migrate to another locality, and so on. The game it is playing is perhaps best formulated as a zero-sum three-person game, the players being (1) the species or population under consideration, (2) the whole environment, organic as well as inorganic, that impinges on that species, and (3) the bio-system that would occupy the living sace of first player, if it were eliminated. This third player may include species which are also involved in the second player, but by formulating the game in this way, the third player is reduced to a dummy whose only function is to absorb the gains and losses of the first player; in this way we retain the advantages of dealing with a zero-sum game and only have to consider the moves of two players, the species and Nature (Waddington 1965:2).

    In the next sentence, Waddington defines the "score" of the game as the number of offspring produced by the first player in the succeeding generation, which of course is easily scaled to the population mean fitness. In my mind, this shows the "game theoretic" description here to be a conceit, since he is not really describing a situation different from the ordinary assumptions of population genetics. Indeed, his description of the "third player" is entirely superfluous from this point of view.

    But I find the conceit illuminating, because it reminds us that there are other species there to absorb Nature's gains. A species must compete in reproductivity at a high level due to these interspecific interactions, or it will not last. Later in the book, Lewontin describes some models where the typical viability fitness of the mean genotype is far less than unity, which of course means that the fertility of these genotypes must be very high, indeed, for them to manage to survive. These are only modeling questions, but the possibility of losses against the field are important to the models.

    He goes on to describe the game as an interdemic process, in which different populations within a species may adopt different strategies:

    A population has, of course, no intelligence of its own which would make it possible for it to choose which move to make, i.e., to adopt a strategy. But no large population is fully panmictic; it is always broken up, if only by distance, into a number of smaller subpopulations which are partially independent in genotype. Each subpopulation will make a somewhat different move, some of which will be more successful and others less; a global or "Monte Carlo" strategy will emerge as that sequence of moves that has proved most successful up till the stage the game has reached. As we shall see, there are really many different games going on simultaneously, affecting different levels of individual and population organization, and each game elicits a corresponding strategy (Waddington 1965:2-3).

    The point of his paper is to suggest that colonizing may be a strategy that is adaptive under some circumstances and not in others. The theme is developed later in the volume by Edward O. Wilson, Ernst Mayr, and Lewontin, and I may post a bit on those contributions later.

    What I found provoking in Waddington's paper was this passage:

    At a fundamental biochemical level, there are alternative strategies possible in the organization of the genetic control of enzyme seqeunces. Consider a metabolic pathway in which successive steps are catalyzed by enzymes P, Q, R, S, T, .... As Kaeser (1963) has pointed out, in some cases it is found that one of these enzymes, say R, is rate-determining for the whole sequence of steps, the throughput being highly dependent on the quantity or activity of R, but little affected even by considerable changes in the activities of the other enzymes; in other metabolic pathways, all of the enzymes may have more or less equal importance in controlling the over-all flow through the system. If the first strategy is adopted, the system is little affected by mutations or environmental effects controlling the nonrate-determining enzymes, but is very sensitive to effects on R; with the second strategy, the system is affected somewhat by mutations or other influences on any of the enzyme proteins, but is not affected drastically by any of them. The second would therefore seem to be the Minimax strategy, but a species might often be able to get away with the first gambit, in which it would only rarely suffer any loss of efficiency, at the expense of failing completely in a few individuals (Waddington 1965:4).

    With this "first strategy", Waddington is describing a strategy for developmental robusticity: resistance to alteration in the developmental program due to alterations in the genetic background. For example, some developmental programs continue to generate adaptive outcomes even if there is a knockout mutation in one of their essential genes. We could say that these systems "degrade gracefully," so that many kinds of mutations lead to phenotypes that are not markedly reduced in fitness. Yet a few of the key genes in most systems cannot tolerate such changes. These developmental programs have evolved in such a way that reduces the impact of most mutational variants in their essential genes, but has emphasized the impact of others.

    Now, this kind of structure might be a necessary consequence of genetic and developmental networks. Maybe it just isn't possible to build a genetic system like Waddington's hypothetical every-gene-equally-crucial example.

    But the current trend in evo-devo is to propose that such network structures (so called hub-and-spoke networks) are themselves selected based on optimizing some biological property, such as modularity or reliability. Optimality theory and game theory are closely conceptually related to each other -- Maynard Smith was a central figure in the introduction of both to evolutionary biology -- but few studies of developmental processes seem to have explicitly focused on the idea of alternate developmental strategies.

    Switches, canalization, and genetic variation

    Waddington is best known for his concept of developmental canalization (I posted a quick review of the topic early last year). In this paper, he suggests canalization as one of a set of four developmental strategies that might be adaptive in different environmental contexts:

    In order to meet the demands of differeing environmental effects on development, and on selective pressures, a species has, in general, to preserve considerable genetic variation within its populations. But this variation can be deployed in a number of ways: (a) The species can become very good at producing one particular phenotype under almost any circumstances, relying upon the environment always offering a possibility for this phenotype to get by. This leads to the evolution of systems of developmental canalization of the phenotype...

    In other words, genetic evolution tends to reduce the effect of environmental variance on the phenotype. That insensitivity to environmental (and background genetic) variability is canalization.

    ...(b) The species can become good at doing one or another of a few alternative things. This leads to switch mechanisms between canalized phenotypes, e.g., in species which have hot and cold weather or aquatic and terrestrial forms. (c) The species can allow the environment to have a strong influence on individual ontogeny, provided it is ensured that the environmental modifications are toward the selection optimum for that particular environment. This leads to the evolution of developmental systems which are highly adaptable. (d) The species can have a development which is relatively unaffected by normal environmental variations, but in which most genetic changes come to phenotypic expression, and can rely on its wealth of genetic variation always to throw up some phenotypes near the selection optimum. This leads to systems in which there are considerable random or periodic changes in the gene pool from time to time, but little genearl long-term movement in any particular direction (e.g., fluctuations in inversion frequencies according to season, as in some species of Drosophila (Waddington 1965:4-5).

    This list is worth remembering: (a) canalization, (b) developmental switches, (c) environmental variance, (d) genetic variance.

    I did a little noodling around and found that a few people have followed up on this idea that developmental robusticity versus plasticity may be treated in a game theoretic perspective. For many purposes, the benefits and drawbacks of a given developmental program may be examined without reference to the idea of strategies. Still, plasticity itself is presumed to be adaptive to changing environments, so that the system of benefits and drawbacks in particular environmental contexts (and their frequency) may be usefully considered in ESS terms. Some have picked up on this analogy and mentioned the relation between a plastic developmental program and a "mixed strategy" ESS solution.

    Lively (1986) considered the case of "developmental switches" in a game theoretic context. Picking up on the work of Levins (1963) and Levene (1953), Lively examined the circumstances under which organisms may adapt a stress-tolerant phenotype. Such phenotypes may be adaptive to low-resource environments, or cold, or high-predator environments. The possibility of such stress-tolerant phenotypes presents some complexities for interpreting

    If the inducing cue [in the environment] is highly correlated with the harsh patch and rare in the benign patch, a conditional strategy can be stable over a wide range of patch frequencies, and this range increases with increasing cost to the stress-tolerant morphology. Hence, a change from one patch type to the other over geological time could result in a correspondingly "rapid" change in morphology without speciation or even any genetic evolution. This would happen without a trace of intermediate forms. Care must be taken, therefore in interpretation of the fossil record when developmental conversion is suspected to be an alternative to strict genetic determination of morphology (e.g., Reyment 1982) (Lively 1986:569).

    The relevance of such stress-tolerant phenotypes might seem to be clearer for short-lived, high-predation animals than for hominids.

    But there are obvious applications of the idea of developmental strategies in human evolution. For one thing, the maturation time is a prime target of research into fossil humans. A long series of papers has been devoted to uncovering whether Neandertals developed on the schedule of modern humans or some other (presumably more ape-like) schedule. Only recently has this literature brought in the substantial variation in dental development time among recent human populations.

    As yet, the subject of nutrition-induced variation in development time has not been a major topic in papers examining skeletal development in Neandertals or other early humans. The normal phenotypic response to developmental stresses in humans is to elongate the developmental span, delaying maturation and/or truncating body size. The relevance of stress-tolerant phenotypes is reasonably clear in this context.

    Lively also elaborates on the game-theoretic properties of such a system, including a surprising observation about variant strategy morphs:

    The present study also shows that interactions among morphs are required for a mixture of unconditional strateies (i.e., genetically determined polymorphism) to ba an evolutionaily stable state of the population. Hence, we have the apparent paradox that, in the absence of mutualistic effects, genetically determined morphs must compete in order to coexist. This result is analogous to results gained from genotypic models, which show that density dependence is required for the maintenance of allelic polymorphisms (Maynard Smith 1962, 1970; Anderson and Arnold 1983). The competitive interactions within and between morphs may be completely symmetrical (all eij = e), provided there is some cost associated with the stress-tolerant morphology [if the stress-tolerant morphology had no costs, it would be the only ESS]. Asymmetrical competition that favors the nontolerant morph in the benign patch further increases the range of patch frequencies over which genetically determined morphs may coexist, but this region is narrow even under hte best of conditions. This narrowness may explain why so few genetically determined polymorphisms are observed amon randomly dispersing organisms (Lively 1986:569, emphasis mine).

    I also found some work that places development into the perspective of another of my current interests, information theory. Thomas Getty (1996) suggested that developmental plasticity may be interpreted as a signal reception problem. An organism will maximize its fitness if it can adopt the pattern of development that is most adaptive to the environment in which it lives. If we consider a population in which individuals may find themselves in two environments with different requirements, then a plastic developmental program might allow individuals to develop in the way appropriate to one of these environments. This is the classic problem also treated by Levins with relation to environmental heterogeneity. Under certain patterns of different environments, a population may optimize its fitness by retaining or evolving plasticity.

    Getty points out that a plastic developmental program with conditional expression of different phenotypes requires some way to detect which environment the organism is in:

    The genotype, in effect, discriminates among possible environments on the basis of cues. Although it has long been reconized that the evolution of phenotypic plasticity hinges on the availability of reliable cues (Levins 1963; Lively 1986), most recent analyses do not explicitly consider the role of cue discrimination (e.g., Houston and McNamara 1992; Kawecki and Stearns 1993; de Jong 1995; Via et al. 1995). In contrast, Moran (1992) focuses on the role of cues and concludes that they are a dominant factor limiting conditional developmental switching. At the heart of her analysis is a probabilistic relationship between (proximate) environmental cues and (ultimate) environmental quality within generations. This probabilistic relationship suggests that "reliable cues" are like "noisy signals" in signal detection theory (SDT). In both cases, there are risks that a response will not correctly match the ultimate conditions. I want to show that it is useful to think of this aspect of phenotypic plasticity as a signal detection process (Getty 1996:378).

    The term, "bet-hedging" comes up frequently in these kinds of considerations. Sometimes organisms simply don't have access to high-quality (i.e., minimal noise) signals of their environments, at least not at the important stages of early development when significant phenotypic choices must be made. But the higher the fitness payoff from betting correctly on a phenotype-environment match, the higher the risk an organism should be willing to take on the basis of its necessarily limited information.

    Predicting the future

    Of course, the value of better information-processing mechanisms is clear: if an organism can predict its environment with more certainty, then it can adapt with greater plasticity because the risk of a poor match between phenotype and environment will be greatly reduced.

    This relation comes up again and again from the consideration of phenotypic plasticity and environments. Generally, phenotypic variation is adaptive to more predictable environments.

    Sound counter-intuitive? Surely, it seems that the way to adapt to a more variable environment is with a variable phenotype?

    Indeed, not so. Phenotypic variation is just as likely to make an organism less adapted to a varying environment as more adapted. This is worse than a wash if the environment is unpredictable. The best that selection can do in an unpredictable environment is to minimize heritable (i.e., the genetic component of) phenotypic variation. This is purely a loss-cutting measure, since in generations where the environment is very different from the maximally adapted value, the population fitness will tank. Still, a variable population would be worse, because much of a phenotypically variable population will do poorly even under the mean environment!

    Levins (1963) shows that a more predictably changing environment allows another response. In such an environment, the presence of phenotypic variation can allow selection to track environmental changes. So predictability is the key to adaptability by selection.

    Levins considered the case where the environment was predictable because it was temporally autocorrelated -- in other words, one generation's environment predicts the next. We may instead consider predictability that emerges from signals available in the environment. An organism that can detect such signals has a way to maximize its adaptation -- choosing the phenotype that is most adaptive to the current environment.

    In terms of Waddington's four developmental possibilities; Levins is testing two of them: the canalized phenotype versus the phenotype with substantial genetic variance.

    As Getty describes, the signals that would permit an organism to choose between these strategies are typically noisy: they entail substantial errors of reception. You might bet on a cold year because the groundhog sees its shadow, but how often is the groundhog right, really?

    It is an open question whether human intelligence once enhanced fitness by better reading the signs that predicted future environments. I think this is unlikely because there is a scaling problem -- take an organism with a lifespan as long as a human, and try to predict the course of the environment in a given area over that timespan. It's certainly beyond me.

    But one argument is that human culture really constitutes Waddington's option (c): human behaviors are extensively induced by the environment, allowing a "highly adaptable" response to changing environments.

    Information about the environment may smooth the fitness function, so that a given amount of environmental fluctuation presents a smaller fitness cost. This could occur either because information reduces mortality (allowing individuals to survive immediate shortfalls), or because it permits higher fertility. Both are intimately related to energy (how much food is available), nutritional ecology (how much protein is available), and group structure (how many mates are available).

    This implies a certain kind of ecology for ancient humans, one with some surprising correlates. More on that later.

    References:

    Getty T. 1996. The maintenance of phenotypic plasticity as a signal detection problem. Am Naturalist 148:378-385.

    Hamilton WD. 1967. Extraordinary sex ratios. Science 156:477-488.

    Levene H. 1953. Genetic equilibrium when more than one ecological niche is available. Am Naturalist 87:331-333.

    Levins R. 1963. Theory of fitness in a heterogenous environment. II. Developmental flexibility and niche selection. Am Naturalist 97:75-90.

    Lewontin RC. 1961. Evolution and the theory of games. J Theor Biol 1:382-403.

    Lewontin RC. 1965. Selection for colonizing ability. Pp. 77-94 in The Genetics of Colonizing Species, Baker HG, Stebbins GL, eds. Academic Press, London.

    Lively CM. 1986. Canalization versus developmental conversion in a spatially variable environment. Am Naturalist 128:561-572.

    Maynard Smith J, Price GR. 1973. The logic of animal conflict. Nature 246:15-18.

    Waddington CH. 1965. Introduction to the symposium. Pp. 1-7 in The Genetics of Colonizing Species, Baker HG, Stebbins GL, eds. Academic Press, London.

  • A little game theory

    Sun, 2007-02-04 18:25 -- John Hawks

    The second week of theory in my seminar focuses on John Maynard Smith and evolutionary game theory.

    Game theory had a long history before it was appropriated by biologists, and some of this history is relevant to us. The field was invented by John von Neumann, in his copious spare time away from inventing computational logic, designing atomic bombs, and finding laws of quantum mechanics. If I were a mathematician, von Neumann would be my hero. Von Neumann was joined in this work by economist Oskar Morgenstern, and their joint book, Theory of Games and Economic Behavior focused on the application of the basic principles of the theory to reasoning about real-world problems.

    Many people may be familiar with game theory through the popular movie, A Beautiful Mind, which dramatized the life of mathematician John Nash. Nash developed the theory of game theory equilibria -- which define boundary conditions within games between regions where one strategy or another has an advantage. People of my generation will remember Dabney Coleman's obliviousness to basic game theory in WarGames, where the eminently quotable line, "The only winning move is not to play," is essentially a description of one Nash equilibrium for global thermonuclear war. The funding of much early work in game theory by the RAND foundation helped to propel game theory to a central place in international relations as well as economics.

    This post reviews some of the basics of game theory, including the dynamics of two of the best-known games: Chicken and the Prisoner's Dilemma, and the way that one of them saved the world -- at least, Hollywoodly speaking.

    Chicken run

    The basic assumption of game theory is that an individual player may choose one out of a set of roles, where the rules of the game and the roles have both been defined in advance. Each role has costs and payoffs defined by the game's rules, which usually vary depending on the strategies adopted by other players. Playing the game requires no innovation, only a choice of roles based on their costs and benefits. A player may choose to follow a strategy, which will determine the roles he or she chooses in one or many trials of the game. The question is, what strategy will a rational actor adopt? The answer to this question depends on the costs and payoffs of the roles, themselves determined by the odds that other players will adopt the same or different roles.

    A well-known example is the game of chicken. Chicken is a game with two players, each driving a car -- preferably a early-1950's model souped-up "Greased Lightning" kind of car. The two players each take up positions on the opposite ends of a long straightaway, hit the accelerator, and drive their cars toward each other at high speed. The loser of the game is the driver who swerves off the road first -- he is the "chicken." But if neither driver swerves, both will be involved in a head-on collision. Considering that their early-1950's era cars are not equipped with air bags or shoulder harnesses, this will be a costly result for both drivers.

    Let's consider the payoffs and costs of the two roles, "drive" and "swerve". The player who swerves incurs a steep social cost -- the T-birds will mock him mercilessly, they may shove him into his locker, he'll never get a date to prom. But he will avoid a steep physical cost of hospitalization or death. And he may even get lucky -- his opponent may also swerve. A player who doesn't swerve may gain the great social benefit of winning, but runs the risk of dying if his opponent doesn't swerve either.

    We can set up these payoffs in the form of a matrix. On the left side are the two roles that our player might adopt; across the top are the two roles that his opponent might adopt. The values in the matrix are the payoffs to our player, given his role and the opponent's role:

    Drive Swerve
    Drive -100 10
    Swerve -10 0

    Now, what should our player do? It seems obvious that, as a general rule, he should swerve. Surely he doesn't want to end up in the hospital, right?

    But the average payoff of each role depends on how often an opponent will adopt them. To figure out the average payoff, we have to consider what will happen not in any one instance of the game, but instead over a large number of trials. To start with, we will assume that every trial is independent -- the players have no memory for what happened last Friday night.

    If our player finds himself in a town where all (100 percent) of the opponents will swerve, then his average payoff will only zero if he swerves (zero times 100 percent), but 10 if he drives (10 times 100 percent). On the other hand, when the player is in a town where all the opponents drive, then his average payoff for driving will be -100, and his average payoff for swerving will be -10. Clearly a wandering player could do best for himself if he could find a town where everyone always swerves, because he could then always win by driving. But likewise, a town full of drivers can easily be invaded by a player who always swerves -- and considering that the drivers will spend much of their time in the hospital, he might even avoid getting shoved into his locker so much!

    The two strategies, "always drive" and "always swerve" are so-called pure strategies. Our quick analysis is sufficient to show that neither of these pure strategies is a winner in all circumstances. In particular, neither is a best response to itself. The best response to "always drive" is to swerve, because the payoff for swerving against a driver is always greater than the payoff for driving against a driver. Likewise, the best response to "always swerve" is to drive.

    But what if players can adopt mixed strategies, in which they play one role sometimes and the other role at other times? The "strategy" determines what proportion of trials the player will drive and what proportion he will swerve; the actual choice of "drive" or "swerve" in any particular trial may be considered random based on these proportions. If there actually is a mixed strategy that outperforms either pure strategy, we can expect that all the players will adopt it. In particular, there is one unique mixed strategy that is the best response to itself. This is the Nash equilibrium for the game. Now the question is this: What proportion of the two roles will maximize the average payoff?

    We'll call the proportion of driving at the optimum p, while the proportion of swerving is (1 - p). Now what value of p maximizes the average payoff? One way to answer this question is to observe that at an optimum, any change in p will reduce the average payoff. But any change in p is necessarily a change in (1 - p). So if the average payoff is higher for strategy p + ε than for strategy p, that implies that the payoff for (1 - p)ε is lower than for (1 - p). Clearly, the optimum is the point where the payoff for p is equal to the payoff for (1 - p).

    For the game of chicken with the payoffs above, this point is where

    -100p + 10(1 - p) = -10p + 0

    Or simply, p = 0.1. The payoffs for our game are maximized when a player drives 10 percent of the time.

    Note that this doesn't imply that the average payoff is positive. In our case, the average payoff is -9, and all players operate at an average loss!

    The equation above can be extended to a general case, if we assume the following matrix of payoffs for alternative roles I and J:

    I J
    I a b
    J c d

    For the game of chicken with these payoffs, the equilibrium strategy is a mixture of roles I and J with the proportion of I being given by (Maynard Smith 1982, equation 2.7):

    p = (b - d) / (b + c - a - d)

    This relation holds for mixed strategies in the symmetric two-player game, as we are examining here. But as we will see below, there are other games where a pure strategy of playing one role all the time is the optimum. In such cases, the proportion of one role should approach 100 percent.

    Global thermonuclear war

    The premise of WarGames is that the defense department has built a large computer (called the "WOPR") to simulate the payoffs of different strategies for a global nuclear engagement. Matthew Broderick is a computer whiz who calls up the WOPR on his modem and plays a few rounds of chess with the computer. Then, he tries to play "Global Thermonuclear War" with the WOPR, which sets off a fake doomsday clock at NORAD. Drama ensues as the young hero is arrested, then discovers that the computer is going to start a real first strike nuclear attack, and has to stop it.

    Ultimately, the computer starts playing many iterations of "Global Thermonuclear War" against itself, trying to find a solution with a positive payoff. Naturally there aren't any, and the computer "realizes" that "The only winning move is not to play."

    But wait a second. Why is there no winning move? The two nations with huge nuclear stockpiles, the US and USSR, had been engaged in an arms race for their own safety! This strategy depended on altering the payoffs of a nuclear exchange in such a way that the cost of an attack was certain retaliation, destroying both countries. This doctrine, called "Mutually Assured Destruction," was rooted in the game of chicken, with research funded by the RAND corporation. The computer's sentiment may be more quip-worthy, but it is more correct to say that the game has no positive payoffs, assuming the players are rational actors.

    This points to an important principle -- if we alter the payoffs, we will alter the optimum strategy. If we want to increase the number of players who swerve, then we can increase the cost of a collision -- for example, by packing the cars with explosives. If we want to decrease the number who swerve then we can increase the cost of swerving -- for instance, we could reward a winning driver with ownership of the loser's car ("play for pinks"). This certainly would make for an exciting game of chicken, although one in which fatalities are much more likely.

    Pure strategies

    For some games, a pure strategy may provide the maximum payoff. Consider the following game:

    Cooperate Defect
    Cooperate -10 -50
    Defect 50 -10

    This game is called the "Prisoner's Dilemma". Imagine that two suspects ("skels" in CSI Miami-lingo) are arrested by the cops. The police think that both were probably involved in the crime, but their evidence is weak. So they put the suspects into different interrogation rooms and offer various enticements to get each suspect to rat out (that is, defect against) his buddy. If both of them keep quiet (that is, cooperate), they will both get off with a light sentence -- hence the positive payoff. Likewise, if both defect, they will both get a light sentence because neither bears all the blame. But if only one of them defects, he can get off scot free.

    Here, the payoff for defecting is always greater than the payoff for cooperating. The pure strategy, "Always defect" is the optimum.

    We can write this situation more generally. As above, suppose the following sets of roles and payoffs:

    I J
    I a b
    J c d

    With this scheme, the pure strategy I will be the optimum strategy if and only if a > c and b > d. This condition guarantees that
    ap + b(1 - p) > cp + d(1 - p) for all values of p. This relation is true for the Prisoner's Dilemma, for which the pure strategy of defect is always the optimum.

    If defecting is such a good idea, we may wonder why real prisoners ever keep quiet. Don't they realize that their partners will rat them out? Shouldn't they try to minimize their costs?

    There are really two answers to this. First, of course, they often do rat each other out!

    The other answer is a bit deeper. Like nations in an arms race, criminal suspects have ways to manipulate the payoffs for cooperation and defection. Getting off "scot free" isn't so appealing if the mafia is going to fit you for cement shoes. Sell out a partner and you lose all the value in the relationship you've established. And don't forget, if you both defect, who's going to watch your back in the joint?

    Maybe even more important, suspects can exchange information with each other. Information can change the way players behave -- so much that an equilibrium strategy with information may be very different from the equilibrium without information exchange.

    This, of course, is why the police put the suspects in different interrogation rooms. Or why police sometimes manipulate the course of information exchange -- turning on the closed circuit television so that one suspect can watch the other rat him out. It's also why members of a syndicate have the same lawyer, who can carry information in and out.

    Last, the relationship between suspects may be asymmetrical -- one may have more of an incentive to defect than the other. Sometimes one suspect just doesn't care as much about the relationship as the other. Other times, a stint in the pokey is just the ticket a young foot soldier needs to rise in his organization. Of course, the police use this information, too: when one suspect is more likely to flip, they will encourage him by any number of means.

    References:

    Maynard Smith J. 1982. Evolution and the theory of games. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge UK.

    Weibull JW. 1997. Evolutionary game theory. MIT Press, Cambridge MA.

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Malapa

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