I'm not sure; you'd have to unpack that [we inherently (by virtue of our genes) value life]. — Noble Dust
We, like all living things, have inherent values or primal drives encoded in our genes. We might label these drives 'evolutionary hacks', as Hoffman does with the jewel beetle. If it's anthropomorphic to say that the male jewel beetle values things that are dimpled, glossy, and brown, it's because we're applying our evolutionary hack (ability to form abstract concepts, use language, plan and make long range goals, etc.) to them. Beetles don't appear to have a concept of value, though they must have some kind of non-linguistic concept for dimpled, glossy, and brown. Significantly, they also don't appear to have concepts for life, death, self, and suffering. So as far as I can tell it would be just as false to say that jewel beetles value life as it would be to say that a clock values time, neither possessing a self-concept, if nothing else, to reflect meaning. By avoiding danger, maintaining their health by eating and drinking, mating, etc., from our perspective beetles appear to value life, but it may be more accurate to say that they're simply attracted to things that, for example, are what we would distinguish as 'dimpled, glossy, and brown'.
Reflecting on it now I suppose it may be going too far to say that we inherently value life because I don't know if it's possible for a human to be raised in such a way as to not develop concepts for life, death, self, and suffering. These concepts appear to be embedded in every culture that I know of.
I believe that our evolutionary hack or ability to form concepts like life, death, self, and suffering is the fundamental cause of our existential anxiety.
Now to what renunciation actually meant in the context of the cultures that practiced it. In ancient India, where Buddhism originated, there had always been a 'culture of renunciation', whereby individuals leave home and village life for life in the forests as 'sanyasi', or renunciates. The Buddha was an example of the 'forest-dwelling recluse' and is often described as such in the early Buddhist scriptures. The aim of the renunciate life was to escape from endless re-birth in the 'wheel of birth and death' (samsara or maya) and realise the state known as mokṣa (Hinduism) or Nirvāṇa (Buddhism). — Wayfarer
Archetypally speaking, a hero with a thousand faces, the journey ending with the hero's
return and a benefit to the community. The benefit, in my opinion, can have both practical value, in strengthening community bonds and unifying goals (increasing odds for survival and gene propagation), and transcendent value by relieving existential anxiety, which we may owe to our 'evolutionary hack'.
if you really think through the philosophical implications of evolutionary theory there is no over-arching raison d'être for human existence. — Wayfarer
Why must there be? Is our predicting, goal seeking minds compelling us to find purpose and meaning in things that exceed our current ability to understand? We can just not know. We can just 'chop wood and carry water'. To paraphrase Alan Watts, life is not a journey, it's a dance.
So Dawkins, here, actually grasps the futility and uselessness of his 'selfish gene' metaphor as a guiding philosophy, and seems to pine for something else - namely, 'pure and disinterested altruism'. But he has spent the whole latter part of his career bollocking religion, which is supposed to embody that very quality! — Wayfarer
My bolding of the keywords "supposed to."
So where he thinks the wellsprings of 'pure and disinterested altruism' might actually be sought, I have no idea - maybe through science, although he ought to know that science is primarily concerned with quantitative analysis and measurement, and not with compassion or altruism. — Wayfarer
To name one example, you're not buying Sam Harris's take on human values and science?