Humphrey & Donald

 

                                                      Stock photo from Dreamstime: l_61704269.jpeg

I have been in a state of suspended animation since Donald Trump won the election: it’s like I was peacefully walking down my driveway when I  suddenly slipped on an invisible patch of black ice that catapulted me up in the air like a leaf in the wind. A rash of images is flashing in front of my eyes. All I knew for sure was that it was going to hurt like hell when I land.

Contradictions abound.

It was 80 degrees last week, setting a new record. Even this late in the season, the winter rye I planted last week in my garden as a cover crop has sprouted like it was spring. Yet, our incoming president assures us climate change is a hoax. Isn’t life grand living in a world of denial? 

Increasingly, parts of the world are becoming too hot for the human body to survive, to say nothing of being able to grow traditional crops This is sending increasing waves of refugees out into the world like the seeds from exploding milkweed pods. In response, Trump is choosing to close our borders, ignoring America’s perennial promise inscribed on the Statue of Liberty to “send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me.” 

A case in point is the behavior of Kristi Noem, slated to be Trump’s new Homeland Security czar, who has bragged about shooting her 14-month-old dog cricket in a sand pit because it was a “less than worthless’ hunting dog.”^⁠1

I’m reminded of a quote by Hannah Arendt: “The death of human empathy is one of the earliest and most telling signs of a culture about to fall into barbarism.” Other examples include Trump’s devious stance on social security. His 15 trillion tax cut plan, catering mainly to the rich, will bankrupt that fund by stealing the cash that was slated to go to old folks like me.

My mind still cartwheeling through the air,  flashes back to the piece I wrote about primates last week: about how primitive drives control chimpanzees. Then I remember, serendipitously, Jane Goodall just wrote a new column this week that adds teeth to what I had written, based on her studies with chimpanzees.^⁠2

At the beginning of her research in 1960, her community of chimpanzees was “using and making tools and greeting one another with kisses and embraces.”⁠  But this big happy family didn’t last for long before she started witnessing them initiate increasingly brutal attacks on the neighboring chimpanzee community.

This violence was initiated by one chimp, an alpha male named Humphrey, who the researchers considered to be “something of a psychopath” because he was abusive to the females in his own community. 

“This marked the beginning of a series of savage attacks by males of the northern, larger group, led by Humphrey, on males and adult females in the south” until by 1974, the original single happy community had split in two. “From 1974 to 1977, we witnessed the northern males commit what among humans would be called atrocities.”

Scientists have conclusively shown that humans share this bloody aggressive side with chimps, which is not surprising since they are our closest relatives, with 98.8% of the same DNA. Luckily, however, there is one BIG difference!

Because we have bigger brains, our species, over time, has developed sophisticated methods of controlling our aggressive behavior. We have learned to resolve conflict through debate and dialogue –  “at the ballot box, in the halls of a congress or parliament, or around a negotiating table.”

It has been proven that where democracy has flourished, violence has receded. Unfortunately, democracy is fragile. French neuropsychiatrist Roger Mucchielli, along with others, has shown how bad actors can mortally wound democracy by purposely igniting our primitive drives. “Knowing how to do this allows someone to direct another’s behavior. And it can be done without the person even knowing it is being done.”

That’s what Trump is doing to us today.

Who can argue with Jane Goodall’s assessment: “If we hope to ensure for following generations the peaceful existence many of us have enjoyed, we need leaders and active citizens in all levels of our societies who will stimulate the compassionate and cooperative instincts we share with other primates,”

The future of our species depends upon it.

xxx

¹ https://www.vanityfair.com/news/kristi-noems-new-book-includes-a-bizarrely-detailed-account-of-killing-her-pet-dog?srsltid=AfmBOooxMMS-8XhQaGzPUSSw7Q9XFJarCfGKS6YqmnPArf59lR5h_Qrp

² https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2024/11/05/chimpanzees-humans-dark-side-aggression-cruelty/

Our upcoming election is between Bonobos and a Chimp

I recently read a mind-popping piece in the Atlantic by Melvin Konner about the evolution of early humans and primates.^⁠1 It’s an incredible saga well worth repeating here. I follow up on that by predicting an evolutionary revolution on November 5^th!

Darwin gives us a hint at what Konner is proposing when he wrote that if you want to understand human behavior, look to baboons, not philosophers. That’s in keeping with the long-held notion that our behavior is governed by our genes.

As proof of that, Konner cites field studies showing  that chimpanzees, our near relative, are violent by nature: “Males often coerce and beat females, and would sometimes gang up and attack a chimp from another group.” Recent books like “Demonic Males” drew  “a dire portrait of humanity (the male version) as inherently violent by evolutionary legacy.”

However, the idea that all primates are violent by nature has been upended by research on bonobos, our other closest relative. “No more removed from us genetically than chimps are, they are a radical contrast to them, often called the “make love, not war” species.^⁠2

Based on this research, Richard Wrangham, a leading anthropologist on this subject,^⁠3 has upended conventional thinking: he has amassed convincing data that human aggression is largely determined by social learning in our environment – not our genes! He says the die was cast early in our evolution when we discovered how to use fire, extending day into the night. 

“Given how important we know conversations and stories told around the fire are to human hunter-gatherers, it’s easy to see how this process could have accelerated the evolution of language—an essential ingredient for less physically aggressive interactions.”

Then, Wrangham uses a variety of animal studies to demonstrate how humans have successfully tamed animal species by human-directed selection over many generations. “For instance, in a fox study begun in Russia in the early 1950s, the pups in each litter least likely to bite when approached by humans were bred forward.” The results were dramatic in progressively lowering aggression.

Next, he applies this knowledge to bonobos, a close relative of Chimps, who separated into their own species 1 to 2 million years ago. Because bonobos were isolated in a remote crook of the Congo River,  they were“protected from competition with either chimps or gorillas. In relative safety, that gave them the luxury of decreasing their own reactive aggression.”

Wrangham defines “reactive aggression” as attacking another animal that gets too close, as opposed to tolerating contact long enough to allow for a possible friendly interaction.  Over generations, these changes in social structure reduced violence in the same way the Russian experiment tamed foxes.

Over time, in this more trusting environment, female bonobos took over, forming strong coalitions “…that keep a lid on male violence.  Males didn’t attack them, and even male-on-male violence was extremely limited. “ 

Maybe that’s how evolution works for the greater good of the species. 

And it could be happening again, according to Harvard psychologist and famed intellect Steven Pinker.  In his book “The Better Angels of Our Nature,” he presents a strong case that “humans are now living in the^⁠4 most peaceful era in the history of our species.”

Interestingly, the history of America coincides with that of the bonobos: We have thrived in relative safety in a stable society since our founding, protected by two oceans that isolated us from much of the chaos and danger plaguing the rest of the world. Under this scenario, as with the bonobos, women have gained power until, on November 5^th, they will be able to overthrow the orange-haired chimp.

I think this is an example of the evolutionary power of natural selection: It’s Mother Nature’s way of saving the world.

xxx

¹ https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2019/03/how-humans-tamed-themselves/580447/

² Ibid

³ Ibid/

⁴ https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/steven-pinker-this-is-historys-most-peaceful-time-new-study-not-so-fast/#:~:text=Pinker%20cites%20a%20number%20of,in%20the%20history%20of%20civilization.

We have a choice of two futures, according to Ta-Nehisi Coates – and a stone mason

Waking up in Portsmouth, groggily looking out the third-story window of the Airbnb where we were staying, I couldn’t believe my eyes: pallets of stones were parked in the middle of Court Street – not any stones but beautiful old, rough-cut granite. As a former stone mason for 20 years, I thought I was dreaming.

I immediately walked over to talk to the five masons who were in the process of building a dry-laid granite wall along the edge of the street, some of it already as tall as I am.

They were replacing a wall that once stood here. When they showed me a blueprint of the original structure with each rock numbered, I couldn’t believe it:  they were building this wall by following the numbers to be an exact duplicate of the original wall.  It was like asking an artist to paint by numbers!

It was a slow, laborious process: multi-shaped stones with unique bumps and burrs never fit together exactly in the same way twice. Furthermore, looking carefully at their wall revealed a basic, utilitarian structure typical for that long-ago time and place, unlike what skilled stone craftspeople could build – that is if they were allowed to tap into their creativity.

In that instant, I had an epiphany. 

Requiring these skilled artisans to essentially paint by numbers to recreate a bygone era is a perfect metaphor for what is happening today in our country. We find ourselves with a mile-wide divide between the majority of us who wish to improve our lives by moving forward pitted against a sizable minority of us who want to go back to re-painting by the original numbers.  

This minority is clamoring for what strict constitutionists dream about: that the true meaning of our constitution is contained in the exact text penned by our Founding Fathers. We must follow their original intent in the same manner my mason friends are required to build a duplicate wall following the numbers inscribed upon the stones.

In reality, that original wall comes from an era that should be dead to us because America, as it was mandated in the Constitution,  disenfranchised most of us: women, minorities, and all those who didn’t own property.  Why would we want to go back to those days any more than these masons want to go back to build the same wall over again?

This topic –  being “plagued by dead language and dead stories that serve people whose aim is nothing short of a dead world”^⁠1–  is the subject of Ta-Nehisi Coates’ latest book, “The Message.” 

For our country to move forward, Coates says, we must reject the notion that words have only one meaning: They are not paint-by-numbers, set in stone, “gray, automatic, and square.”  Instead, Coates says we need to  embrace a new vision filled “with angle, color, and curve.”^⁠2

Similarly, our constitution is not a dead relic set in stone, written for the benefit of a few wealthy white men. That connotation reeks today like a dead whale beached on a prehistoric sand bar. It’s wrong and morally repugnant.  Our constitution is not a dead whale but a living document designed to adapt to our changing societal needs.

Coates warns us that mass media confuses us by painting history and politics as an impenetrable web too difficult to understand. He says they are guilty of “the elevation of factual complexity over self-evident morality.”^⁠3 

The truth is self-evident if we just open our eyes.

 

On November 5^th, we can either vote to return to that old, dead society or join Kamala in forging a new, vibrant society of opportunity where we can all pursue our dreams in a fair society where everyone has a voice.

xxx

¹ Coates, Ta-Nehisi. The Message (pp. 18-19). Random House Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

² Coates, Ta-Nehisi. The Message (pp. 44-45)

³ https://www.nytimes.com/2024/09/29/books/review/ta-nehisi-coates-the-message.html

Tales of Resilience:

 

 

Psychological resilience is that rare quality that enables some survivors to prosper after devastating trauma or misfortune, millstones that would sink most people.

Jaime Harrison, chairman of the Democratic National Convention, is a living example of such resilience, the details of which he shared during their recent convention: “A Black man, from South Carolina, raised by a single mother — that was me.”  But despite a dreadful childhood: “When our power was cut off, when there was nothing in the fridge, when we lost our home to a con man, I never lost hope.”^⁠1

Despite the obstacles, he always had the ability to reach out fearlessly, defying all the odds. For instance, as a teenager, he reached out to Congressman James Clyburn, somehow persuading him to attend Jaime’s induction into the National Honor Society, thereby forging what would become a lifelong friendship. When he got accepted at Yale but had no money to attend, he had the gumption to reach out so convincingly to a member of his church the individual not only gave him the money he needed but also a summer internship.

Harrison’s story vividly reminded me of Gail Sheehy, a writer of my generation and the author of the best-selling book Passages, which traced how we all go through “somewhat predictable, somewhat manageable phases and points of crisis”  in our lives. One typical stage is emotional turmoil at midlife.

When on an assignment to write about Cambodia in the aftermath of Pol Pot’s genocidal reign, Sheehy was facing her own midlife crisis: the last thing she expected to find was a daughter. But that’s what happened when she forged an instant attachment with an eleven-year-old refugee named Mohm, who had suffered immensely during the genocide: she had survived by eating roots in the jungle after witnessing the slaughter of her grandparents, her parents, and every one of her siblings. 

But like Harrison, Mohm was bold and spunky, a testament to the power of the human spirit to prevail against unimaginable odds. When Sheehy visited a refugee camp, most of the children retreated to the shadows, wearing blank expressions. But she spotted one little girl who had “hungry eyes, darting behind bamboo fences… following me like a deer through the forest.”^⁠2 

Soon after, when that little girl was introduced to Sheehy, they bonded instantly. At the end of their brief encounter, the girl asked Sheehy to take her with her to a free country. In essence, Mohm adopted Sheehy, not the other way around.

Of course, Sheehy’s best seller was not just about adopting a daughter. It was about the stages everyone goes through in the course of their lives, which can’t be done in a vacuum. Inevitably, she was talking about her generation, which also happens to be mine. Sheehy was able to resolve her own midlife turmoil by taking dramatic action. In her case, she learned to attend to the needs of others by adopting Mohm.

 I would like to close by switching the topic from individual psychology to society as a whole. When we widen the lens in this way, we see our country, like a person, has also moved through stages since its birth. Looking at it this way, we can explain the extreme polarization we face today as a result of collective anomie at midlife. No longer are we a brash young country pumped up with testosterone like an out-of-control gang of adolescent boys primed to dominate and plunder. Like Gail Sheehy, we are now searching for a sense of community and ways to better take care of each other.

Sheehy wrote that “the best way to defeat the numbing ambivalence of middle age is to surprise yourself - by pulling off some cartwheel of thought or action never imagined at a younger age,’’^⁠3 During my own midlife turmoil, I was able to cartwheel back to graduate school and become a psychotherapist specializing in helping folks with PTSD.

And, just in time for our presidential election this year, Kamala Harris and Tim Walz have cartwheeled onto the scene to lead us toward a more gentle, kind, and hopeful future.

xxx

¹ https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2024/08/22/jaime-harrison-inspirational-grandparents/

² https://www.vogue.com/article/gail-sheehy-book-daring-my-passages-a-memoir

³ https://www.nytimes.com/1986/05/25/books/mohm-pat-in-america.html

Photo credit: Apple tree in  my neighbor's abandoned orchard