’zilla, eris, and Fewl: Consider the following:
I have a population of amoebas living in a petri dish. These amoebas can only live within a specific temperature range: if it gets too cold, or too hot, they die.
Having godlike powers in this thought experiment, we take these little amoebas and alter them slightly. We give them a physical temperature sense of some kind (the actual mechanism is irrelevant), and connect it to the mechanisms that control its movement: pseudopodia and so forth.
However, we change the amoebas in three different ways. A third are set up so that they head for areas of high heat. A third are altered so that they don’t respond one way or another. And the last third are designed so that they’ll move away from heat.
The three groups have three different responses or inherent inclinations about heat, yes? Now we heat a randomly-selected part of the dish, making a small region too hot for the amoebas in it to survive. What will happen to the distribution of preferences among the amoeba?
Now imagine a population of humans that we alter in a similar way. From one third, we remove their fear or dislike of rotting food. It’s just like any other food to them. To another, we give them a strong liking for rotting food: it tastes pleasant and satisfying to them. In fact, they experience cravings for it. To the last third, we intensify their dislike; they’re repulsed by the very idea of eating spoiled food and become strongly nauseated at its presence. We cause all the humans to lose any cultural traditions about the nature of rotting food (to avoid contamination of the experiment).
Now, we let the population be for a while, then return. What will we find? I’ll tell you: if there are any people from the first or second group remaining, they’ve developed a tradition that rotten food is extremely bad, no matter how appealing it might be. The last group will probably be in the majority: anyone who enjoyed eating rotten food or had no problems with it and did so has died.
If we disrupt the social transmission of tradition (as occasionally happens), the spoiled-food-haters will outnumber the others even more.
Here’s an even simpler example: we pick up small groups of people (in our nifty UFOs!) and tamper with their minds (by, I don’t know, ‘neural reconditioning’) in four different ways. One group is convinced that they can fly by jumping off of cliffs while flapping their arms and that this activity is incredibly enjoyable, another is convinced that’s impossible and should be avoided at all costs. Another group is convinced that they hate asparagus and should never eat it, while the last is convinced that they love asparagus and should eat it whenever reasonably possible.
We put these people back and come back in a year. What do we find?
The people who wanted to jump off of cliffs are all dead, while most of the people who didn’t are still alive. There’s no real difference between the groups who hated and loved asparagus.
If we accept that whatever people feel, desire, or prefer is “valid”, what do we notice about the nature of validity as time passes?