Applied Eugenics | Page 4

a time. The problem is to decide whether the differences between the people met in everyday life are due more to inheritance or to outside influences, and these differences must naturally be examined separately; they can not be lumped together.
To ask whether nature in general contributes more to a man than nurture is futile; but it is not at all futile to ask whether the differences in a given human trait are more affected by differences in nature than by differences in nurture. It is easy to see that a verdict may be sometimes given to one side, sometimes to the other. Albinism in animals, for instance, is a trait which is known to be inherited, and which is very slightly affected by differences of climate, food supply, etc. On the other hand, there are factors which, although having inherited bases, owe their expression almost wholly to outside influences. Professor Morgan, for example, has found a strain of fruit flies whose offspring in cold weather are usually born with supernumerary legs. In hot weather they are practically normal. If this strain were bred only in the tropics, the abnormality would probably not be noticed; on the other hand, if it were bred only in cold regions, it would be set down as one characterized by duplication of limbs. The heredity factor would be the same in each case, the difference in appearance being due merely to temperature.
Mere inspection does not always tell whether some feature of an individual is more affected by changes in heredity or changes in surroundings. On seeing a swarthy man, one may suppose that he comes of a swarthy race, or that he is a fair-skinned man who has lived long in the desert. In the one case the swarthiness would be inheritable, in the other not. Which explanation is correct, can only be told by examining a number of such individuals under critical conditions, or by an examination of the ancestry. A man from a dark-skinned race would become little darker by living under the desert sun, while a white man would take on a good deal of tan.
The limited effect of nurture in changing nature is in some fields a matter of common observation. The man who works in the gymnasium knows that exercise increases the strength of a given group of muscles for a while, but not indefinitely. There comes a time when the limit of a man's hereditary potentiality is reached, and no amount of exercise will add another millimeter to the circumference of his arm. Similarly the handball or tennis player some day reaches his highest point, as do runners or race horses. A trainer could bring Arthur Duffy in a few years to the point of running a hundred yards in 9-3/5 seconds, but no amount of training after that could clip off another fifth of a second. A parallel case is found in the students who take a college examination. Half a dozen of them may have devoted the same amount of time to it--may have crammed to the limit--but they will still receive widely different marks. These commonplace cases show that nurture has seemingly some power to mold the individual, by giving his inborn possibilities a chance to express themselves, but that nature says the first and last word. Francis Galton, the father of eugenics, hit on an ingenious and more convincing illustration by studying the history of twins.[3]
There are, everyday observation shows, two kinds of twins--ordinary twins and the so-called identical twins. Ordinary twins are merely brothers, or sisters, or brother and sister, who happen to be born two at a time, because two ova have developed simultaneously. The fact that they were born at the same time does not make them alike--they differ quite as widely from each other as ordinary brothers and sisters do. Identical twins have their origin in a different phenomenon--they are believed to be halves of the same egg-cell, in which two growing-points appeared at a very early embryonic stage, each of these developing into a separate individual. As would be expected, these identical twins are always of the same sex, and extremely like each other, so that sometimes their own mother can not tell them apart. This likeness extends to all sorts of traits:--they have lost their milk teeth on the same day in one case, they even fell ill on the same day with the same disease, even though they were in different cities.
Now Galton reasoned that if environment really changes the inborn character, then these identical twins, who start life as halves of the same whole, ought to become more unlike if they were brought up apart; and as they grew older and moved into different spheres of activity, they ought to become measurably dissimilar. On the other hand,