When I was young, I was taught the Golden Rule, to treat others as I would have them treat me. We read The Water Babies by Charles Kingsley and learnt of Mrs Doasyouwouldbedoneby, the book’s moral conscience. It seemed to me a universal truth.

At that time, the main arbiter of morality in Britain was the Church of England, a gentle parent.Then came the Sixties, the age of revolutions, and we threw off the yoke of imposed ‘good’ behaviour, to the extent that today respect for one’s elders and betters has been substituted in public discourse by its opposite, the ritual setting up and tearing down of icons, a moral excess no better than what it replaced.Some leaders, and not only those with a blond bouffant, make it easy to see their casual or worse relationship to the supposedly eternal verities of truth, honour and respect.

Part of their attraction, I believe, is that they represent a freedom from strictures and admonishment. A continuation of the same rebellion, in its most thoughtless form.I was also taught that the New Testament way was to turn the other cheek, while the Old Testament and hence the Middle Eastern ‘People of the Book’ endorse the more retaliatory position of ‘an eye for an eye’. Neither seems an adequate description of recent events.

The American leadership, it seems to be, is composed of men who were bullied at school, and now want no more than to be bullies themselves. Trump seems to hate the wagging finger of European morality so much, that he seeks out as allies those who kill wantonly and on a grand scale.

The socio-biologist, E.O. Wilson, studied ants and the readiness of the individual to sacrifice for the greater good. He saw parallels with human behaviour and recognised that a society can only form when its members instinctively do things for each other. But with a caveat – just not too much.

This a remarkable extension to our – or at least my – understanding of Darwinian evolution. It turns out that my instinct for helping others is just that, a biological instinct, and not the result of my moral education. It is, as Wilson identified, the very fabric of society.

But the species also benefits from those who seek only their own advancement. Untroubled by thoughts of others, they will build, innovate and defend their own. They may care little if the weapons they devise are used for mass destruction, if their employment practices are Victorian at best, if the social media they create is also unsociable and worse, a haven for paedophiles, criminals and a visceral hatred of difference.

The privacy they build in is liked by the individual, but immensely destructive for wider society.Both of these antagonistic features of the human condition are favoured by evolution and the combination seems to work. Humans are everywhere, far too numerous for our long term good, described by one Star Trek alien as an infestation.

My instinctual caring for others is essential, but so, it appears, is my natural iconoclasm.Lacking the killer instinct for business, I am not rich, but I do get pleasure from the happiness of others, and doubly so if I have contributed to it. I am aware that it is a pleasure that some others will never experience.

Does missing this emotion contribute to their anger, I wonder? Rightly or wrongly, I feel sorry for them.This conflicted genetic inheritance is a fundamental human trait. Whether it is up to the modern challenges we face – war, intolerance, authoritarianism, climate – is another matter entirely.