The ancestry myth

Several of my retired friends of similar age spend large amounts of time on their computers, and elsewhere, in the process of discovering their ancestry. Perhaps, when you are in the ‘Third Age’, there is some reassurance in better knowledge of how one fits into the great scheme of life. Knowing who, what and where one’s great, great grandparents were seems to provide a more solid foundation, perhaps even a purpose, for one’s present existence. There is no doubt that tracing one’s ancestors can be absorbing, challenging and, ultimately, satisfying. But I would like to question its value with respect to any particular individual.

Let’s start with facts. At conception, we received 50% of our DNA from each parent (unselected – you get what you are given!). They in turn were the outcome of each of their parents, so you received 25% of your DNA from 4 grandparents. And 12.5% from each of your 8 great-grandparents, and so on back through time and each generation doubling in size and contributing less and less to the modern you.

Secondly, one of the aims of studying one’s ancestry seems the need to establish strong links with particular historical figures. I can trace my ancestry back to William the Conqueror. Given the number of generations in between, all the British could make that claim. But there is one big unknown in making links – human nature. We all know the saying: A woman knows her own child; a man only believes he knows! Tracing lines of ancestry through mothers is more likely to be valid than through fathers. But even here, there are wild cards: children were swapped by wet nurses, adopted to replace one who died after birth or who was disabled, children resulting from extra-marital affairs, incest, and so on.

Apart from these uncertainties in establishing links, what is the benefit of knowing that your Great x ? grandfather or -mother was a baker in Birmingham in 1785? They lived their lives in the world they were born into, with timely attitudes, needs and values, none of which mean much or make sense to us. Retirement is about living in the present, not yearning for the past.