Dee Denver – The Dharma in DNA: Book Review & Audio Summary

Book Info

• Book name: The Dharma in DNA
• Author: D. Denver (Dee Denver)
• Genre: Science & Technology, Social Sciences & Humanities (Philosophy), Self-Help & Personal Development
• Published Year: 2022
• Publisher: Oxford University Press
• Language: English

Audio Summary

Synopsis

When molecular biologist D. Denver attended a Dalai Lama lecture in 2004, he expected little more than religious platitudes. As a self-described rationalist raised on Richard Dawkins, he was skeptical of spiritual mumbo jumbo. But the Tibetan monk’s words on impermanence and the nature of self struck an unexpected chord. What began as curiosity evolved into a profound exploration of how Buddhist philosophy and evolutionary biology converge on fundamental truths about human existence. The Dharma in DNA chronicles Denver’s journey discovering that the ancient wisdom of Buddhism and cutting-edge molecular science aren’t adversaries—they’re complementary paths illuminating the same reality about what it means to be human in an ever-changing universe.

Key Takeaways

• The conflict between science and religion isn’t universal—Buddhism’s rejection of a permanent self aligns remarkably with evolutionary biology’s understanding of human nature
• Both Buddhist philosophy and modern genetics recognize impermanence as fundamental to existence, viewing identity as a dynamic process rather than a fixed essence
• The concept of “no-self” in Buddhism parallels biological findings that challenge the notion of a stable, unchanging human identity
• Integrating contemplative wisdom with empirical science can deepen our understanding of consciousness, evolution, and what makes us human

My Summary

When a Skeptical Scientist Meets Ancient Wisdom

I have to admit, when I first picked up The Dharma in DNA, I was intrigued by the premise but also a bit skeptical. How exactly does a molecular biologist reconcile the empirical rigor of laboratory science with the contemplative traditions of Buddhism? It’s not exactly a combination you see every day.

But D. Denver’s journey is precisely what makes this book so compelling. In 2004, he attended a lecture by the Dalai Lama in Bloomington, Indiana, expecting—by his own admission—not much at all. As someone who kept a stack of Richard Dawkins books on his nightstand, Denver was firmly in the rationalist camp. The kind of scientist who rolls his eyes at anything that smells like spiritual woo-woo.

Yet something unexpected happened during that lecture. The Dalai Lama’s discussion of impermanence and the nature of self didn’t sound like nonsense. It was logical, compelling, and—most surprisingly for Denver—it resonated with his own scientific work. This cognitive dissonance launched him on a years-long exploration that would culminate in this fascinating book.

What I find most refreshing about Denver’s approach is his honesty. He doesn’t try to force-fit Buddhism into a scientific framework or water down either tradition to make them compatible. Instead, he carefully examines where these two ways of understanding reality genuinely converge, and where they illuminate each other’s insights.

The Science-Religion Conflict Isn’t What We Think

Denver opens by addressing the elephant in the room: the supposed eternal warfare between science and religion. We’re all familiar with this narrative. Ancient Greeks pioneered rational inquiry, Romans built an empire on practical knowledge, then the Dark Ages descended with religious dogma suppressing free thought for over a millennium. Finally, Darwin’s On the Origin of Species in 1859 struck a decisive blow for reason over superstition.

It’s a tidy story, and one that many scientists—myself included, if I’m being honest—have internalized. But Denver argues it’s also oversimplified and, in important ways, wrong.

The conflict between science and religion certainly exists when we’re talking about Christianity, Judaism, or Islam. These Abrahamic traditions posit eternal souls, special creation of humans in God’s image, and other claims that directly contradict evolutionary biology. Bertrand Russell’s famous question captures the problem perfectly: if humans evolved from simpler life forms, at what point in that gradual process did the soul suddenly appear? After the fish stage? The amphibian stage? The early mammal stage?

Scientists have responded to this tension in different ways. Richard Dawkins takes the hardline approach, arguing that religious claims are unfalsifiable nonsense that should be banished from public discourse. Stephen Jay Gould proposed a more diplomatic solution with his concept of “non-overlapping magisteria”—the idea that science deals with facts while religion deals with values, and never the twain shall meet.

But here’s where Denver’s Buddhist lens offers something genuinely new. What if we’re looking at a religion that doesn’t claim humans have eternal souls? What if we’re examining a philosophical tradition that explicitly rejects the concept of a permanent, unchanging self—the very concept that modern neuroscience and evolutionary psychology also find untenable?

Suddenly, the whole conflict looks different. Buddhism doesn’t require the same defensive maneuvers or intellectual compartmentalization that other religions demand from scientifically-minded adherents.

The Buddhist Concept of No-Self

One of the most profound sections of the book explores the Buddhist doctrine of anatta, or “no-self.” Denver introduces this concept through a historical dialogue between the Greek king Menander and a Buddhist monk named Nagasena, which took place around 150 BCE in northeastern India.

When Menander asked the monk his name, Nagasena replied that while people called him Nagasena, this was merely a conventional label—not a reference to any permanent, essential identity. The king was understandably puzzled. What did the monk mean?

Nagasena explained that the name his parents gave him referred to a certain bundle of characteristics, experiences, and physical attributes. But none of these components constituted a permanent “self.” Just as a chariot is merely the temporary assembly of wheels, axle, frame, and other parts—with no essential “chariot-ness” existing independently—so too is what we call a “person” simply a convenient label for a dynamic, ever-changing process.

This might sound like philosophical hair-splitting, but Denver shows how it connects directly to modern biology. From a molecular perspective, the cells in our bodies are constantly dying and being replaced. The atoms that make up those cells cycle through us and return to the environment. Even our neurons, long thought to be permanent fixtures, undergo continuous molecular turnover.

The “you” that exists today shares almost no physical matter with the “you” of seven years ago. So where exactly is this permanent self we’re so convinced exists?

Evolution and Impermanence

Denver’s exploration of impermanence—one of Buddhism’s core insights—is where his scientific expertise really shines. Buddhist philosophy has long taught that all phenomena are characterized by impermanence (anicca). Nothing remains static; everything is in constant flux.

This isn’t just abstract philosophy. It’s observable reality at every level of biological organization.

At the molecular level, DNA itself is constantly changing through mutation. These aren’t rare catastrophic events—they’re happening all the time, in every cell, as a natural consequence of chemistry and physics. Most mutations are neutral or harmful, but occasionally one provides a slight advantage. Over many generations, natural selection amplifies these beneficial changes.

This is evolution in action, and it’s fundamentally a story about impermanence. Species don’t have fixed, eternal essences. They’re populations of individuals varying across multiple dimensions, constantly responding to environmental pressures, gradually transforming into something different.

The fossil record provides a time-lapse view of this process. What we see isn’t a series of distinct, unchanging species popping into existence fully formed. Instead, we observe gradual transitions, intermediate forms, and the continuous morphing of one type of organism into another over millions of years.

I found Denver’s discussion of human evolution particularly striking. We like to think of Homo sapiens as a distinct, well-defined category. But when you look closely at the fossil evidence, the boundaries blur. Our ancestors interbred with Neanderthals and Denisovans. Most people of non-African descent carry 1-2% Neanderthal DNA in their genomes today.

Were Neanderthals a separate species or a subspecies of humans? The question itself reveals our tendency to impose artificial categorical boundaries on what is actually a continuous, flowing process of change.

What This Means for How We See Ourselves

The convergence of Buddhist philosophy and evolutionary biology has profound implications for how we understand human nature and identity. Denver doesn’t just present these ideas as abstract intellectual exercises—he explores their practical significance for how we live our lives.

The Western concept of self, inherited largely from Enlightenment philosophy and Christian theology, posits something essential and unchanging at our core. We speak of “finding ourselves,” “being true to yourself,” and “self-actualization” as if there’s some fixed endpoint we’re trying to reach.

But both Buddhism and biology suggest this is fundamentally mistaken. There is no fixed self to find. Identity is a process, not a destination. We are constantly being shaped by our experiences, relationships, environment, and even the microbial communities living in our guts (Denver has a fascinating discussion of the microbiome and its influence on behavior and mood).

This might sound depressing at first—a kind of existential dissolution. But Denver argues, and I’m inclined to agree, that it’s actually liberating. If there’s no fixed self, then we’re not trapped by our past or our perceived limitations. Change isn’t just possible; it’s inevitable. The question is whether we participate consciously in that change or let it happen to us.

Practical Applications for Daily Life

One of the strengths of The Dharma in DNA is that Denver doesn’t leave these insights in the realm of pure theory. He explores several concrete ways that understanding impermanence and no-self can transform our daily experience.

Dealing with Attachment and Loss

Much of human suffering stems from our resistance to change. We become attached to people, circumstances, and even versions of ourselves, then experience pain when these inevitably transform or disappear. Denver suggests that deeply understanding impermanence—not just intellectually but experientially—can help us hold things more lightly.

This doesn’t mean becoming cold or detached. Rather, it means appreciating things fully precisely because they’re temporary. As the Japanese concept of mono no aware captures, there’s a poignant beauty in transience.

Reducing Ego-Driven Behavior

Many of our most destructive behaviors stem from defending and promoting a self that, upon examination, doesn’t exist in the way we think it does. We take criticism personally, we compete unnecessarily, we accumulate possessions to define ourselves, we construct elaborate narratives about who we are.

Denver shares how his own understanding of no-self has helped him become less reactive and defensive in his professional life. When someone criticizes his research, he’s better able to evaluate the criticism on its merits rather than experiencing it as an attack on his identity.

Cultivating Compassion

If the boundaries between self and other are less fixed than we imagine, compassion becomes more natural. Denver draws on both Buddhist ethics and evolutionary biology’s insights into cooperation and altruism to explore how understanding our fundamental interconnectedness can motivate pro-social behavior.

Embracing Personal Growth

Perhaps most importantly, recognizing that we’re not fixed entities opens up possibilities for genuine transformation. Bad habits, limiting beliefs, and destructive patterns aren’t expressions of our “true self”—they’re just current configurations that can be changed.

Denver discusses how this perspective aligns with neuroplasticity research showing that our brains remain capable of significant reorganization throughout life. We’re not stuck with the neural patterns we’ve developed. With intention and practice, we can literally rewire our brains.

Where Biology and Buddhism Diverge

To his credit, Denver doesn’t oversell the convergence between Buddhism and biology. He’s careful to note important areas where these traditions diverge or where the parallel breaks down.

Buddhism makes claims about consciousness, rebirth, and karma that go beyond what empirical science can currently address. While Buddhism’s psychological insights and ethical framework may be compatible with scientific findings, some of its metaphysical claims remain in the realm of faith rather than evidence.

Denver also acknowledges that Buddhism, like any ancient tradition, contains elements that don’t hold up to modern scrutiny. Some Buddhist texts make claims about cosmology or biology that we now know are simply wrong. The tradition’s historical treatment of women and LGBTQ+ individuals also conflicts with contemporary ethical understanding.

What Denver advocates for isn’t wholesale adoption of Buddhism by scientists or scientization of Buddhism. Rather, he suggests a respectful dialogue where each tradition can illuminate and challenge the other.

Comparing This to Other Science-Spirituality Books

I’ve read quite a few books that attempt to bridge science and spirituality, and I have to say, The Dharma in DNA stands out for its intellectual honesty and rigor. Unlike some books in this genre that cherry-pick scientific findings to support predetermined spiritual conclusions, Denver maintains genuine scientific skepticism throughout.

Books like Fritjof Capra’s The Tao of Physics or Deepak Chopra’s various works often make sweeping claims about quantum mechanics “proving” mystical insights. Denver is far more careful. He focuses on areas where the convergence is genuine and well-established—evolutionary biology, neuroscience, molecular genetics—rather than making speculative leaps based on misunderstood physics.

At the same time, Denver brings more scientific depth than books written primarily by Buddhist teachers or philosophers. His expertise in molecular biology allows him to explain evolutionary concepts with precision and nuance that general audiences rarely get.

If I had to place it on a spectrum, I’d say it’s closer to Robert Wright’s Why Buddhism Is True in its evidence-based approach, but with deeper scientific expertise and less focus on meditation practice.

Strengths and Limitations

The book’s greatest strength is Denver’s unique position as both a practicing scientist and a serious student of Buddhism. This dual perspective allows him to speak credibly to both communities and identify genuine convergences that others might miss.

His writing is also admirably clear. Despite dealing with complex scientific concepts and philosophical subtleties, Denver explains things in accessible language without dumbing them down. I never felt talked down to, but I also never felt lost in jargon.

The personal narrative thread running through the book also works well. Denver’s account of his own intellectual journey provides a relatable framework for readers who might be skeptical of either science or spirituality.

That said, the book does have some limitations. Readers looking for detailed meditation instructions or practical Buddhist teachings might be disappointed—this is primarily an intellectual exploration rather than a how-to guide. Denver mentions his own contemplative practice, but doesn’t go deeply into the experiential dimensions of Buddhism.

Additionally, while Denver’s focus on evolutionary biology and molecular genetics is his area of expertise, some readers might wish for more engagement with neuroscience and consciousness studies, where some of the most interesting science-Buddhism dialogue is currently happening.

The book also assumes a certain level of familiarity with both evolutionary theory and basic Buddhist concepts. Complete beginners to either domain might occasionally feel a bit lost, though Denver generally provides enough context to follow along.

Questions Worth Pondering

After finishing The Dharma in DNA, I found myself sitting with several questions that I’m still mulling over:

If our sense of a continuous, unified self is largely an illusion constructed by our brains, does that change how we should think about moral responsibility? Can we hold people accountable for their actions if there’s no stable “self” that persists from the moment of action to the moment of judgment?

And here’s another one: If impermanence is truly fundamental to existence, what does that mean for our efforts to preserve species, ecosystems, or cultural traditions? Is conservation itself a form of attachment to how things are, a resistance to natural change? Or is there a way to honor impermanence while still working to protect what we value?

I don’t think Denver would claim to have definitive answers to these questions, and neither do I. But I appreciate that his book opens up this kind of deeper reflection rather than offering pat conclusions.

Final Thoughts From My Reading Chair

The Dharma in DNA is the kind of book that stays with you long after you’ve turned the final page. It’s challenged some of my assumptions about the relationship between scientific and contemplative ways of knowing, and it’s given me a richer framework for thinking about identity, change, and what it means to be human.

For readers interested in either Buddhism or evolutionary biology, this book offers fresh perspectives on both. For those curious about how ancient wisdom and modern science might inform each other without compromising their respective integrity, Denver provides a thoughtful, rigorous example of how that dialogue can work.

I’d love to hear from others who’ve read this book or who are exploring similar questions. How do you navigate the relationship between scientific and spiritual understanding in your own life? Have you found ways that different knowledge traditions illuminate each other? Drop your thoughts in the comments—I’m always eager to continue these conversations with fellow readers at Books4soul.com.