Consciousness, Literature and the Arts

Archive

Volume 4 Number 3, December 2003

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Instinct

by

Merle Borg

We had to break away from the rest, our species did. It is impossible to be

this clever and successful, and not recognize that we are special. It

probably came about slowly, as we acquired tools and fire and intelligence

and became this world's ultimate predator. It would have been driven by a

growing ability to understand death and a widening capacity to believe what

we want, but one thing is certain - it had to happen.

 

Gradually realizing that death was permanent only for instinctive creatures,

we began burying our loved ones with provisions to go on. As soon as we

developed civilizations, we built magnificent temples - glorious portals

climbing to eternity. Some skepticism exists, and the details are not all

agreed on, but faith is not born of consensus, it comes from within. You

look at critters and either believe that you're one of 'em, or you're not.

Most of us are not.

 

Life rolls along. Intellect is busy at its miracles. Faith comforts and

inspires, and everything makes perfect sense, except somewhere in the

shadowy corners of our reasoned world - instincts remain. Fearful of what

they might mean, we don't generally acknowledge these lowly forces. We study

every facet of human behavior except them, and in all fairness they don't

interfere with our manifest destinies. They give us that, then they have a

little fun with the rest of the stuff.

 

Instincts are normally assigned to lower animals. We call ours "human

nature" but it's all the same. They can be defined as innate urges to repeat

anything that worked well. If an inborn feeling somehow resulted in a higher

number of surviving offspring, that feeling spread as it was passed down,

eventually becoming universal.

 

Males and females have differing parental duties and capacities, so

differing instincts accumulate. In "group" species, groups compete with each

other and members acquire a mix of "individual success" and "group success"

urges. Most of our past was spent in small clans or tribes and we are fitted

with that complicated mix. We also have intelligence which can override

these usually hidden urges.

 

There is nothing hidden about our mating instincts, with their compulsive

nuzzling and their throbbing primal urgency. These are followed by equally

glowing reams of tender parental energies. Mating instincts are the most

widely recognized and loved of our inborn cravings. Instincts being selfish

by nature, the others are generally not as warm.

 

With no successful enemies for many thousands of years, our reproductive

struggle has been against each other, and our instincts reflect this. We are

ruthlessly competitive, especially us males. Measuring our worth in power or

wealth, it is not uncommon for us to spend our lives acquiring enough for

ten lifetimes. Excess power or wealth has always been rewarded with

increased mating opportunity, and even though more descendants may not have

been the object, they came along and this desire to acquire more than we can

possibly use came with them. This particular instinct often consumes us,

bringing about much of the industry of this world, and much of the

exploitation.

 

Ours is a social species, and like most social animals, we have a

hierarchy - a deference to higher status that kept us all from heading

toward the front of the line. A group advantage, it allowed us to be led and

afforded a peaceful division of labor. On an individual basis, high status

increased our offspring thereby saddling us with social ambitions. Our

adolescent years are often traumatic as we discover how our world works and

what our positions will be. Like wealth or power, high social standing could

be passed down, so instinctive anxieties in these areas will torment us well

beyond our fertile years - and keep us elbowing ahead in this uniquely human

endeavor called progress.

 

We've existed without viable enemies for a long time - long enough that

we've had to become our own. Covering this globe and competing with other

groups of "us" for the choice spots, we have developed noticeably dissimilar

"we/they" inclinations. Our "we" instincts encourage fairness and sharing.

They override our selfish natures and bring about much of the neighborliness

and decency in this world. Our "they" leanings contribute to much of the

world's fear and suspicion. "We/they" instincts are seen in patriotism and

racism and the various other "isms" that plague our kind. They are

innocently evident in "team identification" and our passion for following

sports. It's been several generations since our survival depended on the

athletic abilities of warriors, and the reasons for our fanatic interest in

physical contests are long forgotten, but we retain this inane compulsion to

idolize prowess and to cheer as if our lives depended on it. We tune in

nightly; distantly driven to know if "ours" beat "theirs".

 

Instincts are tragically evident in the lives and deaths of our young

warriors - their love of thrills and glory - their nearly suicidal beliefs

of invincibility. With successful procreation being Nature's goal, no

creatures would use their young for fighting, but for our breed, spears

changed things. In spear contests, physical size and strength were helpless

against youthful speed and agility. Our young had to be drafted. Since young

females were needed for reproduction, young males became the swift and

deadly perimeter of our existence. Because of the up-side-down nature of

offspring protecting parents, trickery was needed and we are all in on the

fateful ruse. Our penchant for waving banners and worshipping heroes is

relatively harmless, but oblivious young male cravings for excitement bring

a harvest of grief in today's fast world.

 

Although not generally admitted, instincts are often why we get here, why we

do what we do, why we care or don't for each other, and why we leave before

our time. In fact, it is instinct, not intellect that most accurately

defines humanity. Like hoof or claw, intellect is merely a tool, a

late-comer, and there is danger in the belief that it is in command.

Intellect thinks it rules, and it is certainly smart enough. It does get to

steer much of the time, but those ancient forces in the corners of our

reasoned world still set our course, and without conscious overriding

effort, millenniums of accumulated experience quietly maintain control.

 

Instincts provide our commonality, our link. They connect us to our past and

to the rest of this stunningly beautiful garden, and it is here where the

nagging reservations surface and we discover why these vital forces are not

acknowledged. About them lingers the unmistakable stench of mortality. It's

not a big problem. Powerful as instincts are, they are relatively simple and

defenseless. Whenever Curiosity suspects that our behavior is innate,

Intellect and Faith, with their influence at risk, rise in righteous

indignation and loudly condemn the very idea as heresy. The disturbing scene

eventually quiets down and the questions about instinct are forgotten.

Curiosity, in time, learns not to ask and eyes learn not to see.

 

Modern civilization somewhat strains this ageless diversion. Modern

technology further shields us from the suspicious closeness of Nature, but

in the process has uncovered DNA - another slithering caldron of probable

blasphemy. It's nothing that Intellect and Faith can't handle. We've lived

for millenniums with creatures whose lives and limbs were much like ours,

and managed to not see the connection - long enough anyway. Our DNA ties to

the rest of creation are scientifically verified, universally accepted, and

like our instincts, automatically ignored.

 

We believe what we want, we always have, and it's a comfort. When we apply

these beliefs to our problems, it's not. Our invincible, thrill and glory

seeking sons provide a sobering example. In the US, in a time of peace, boys

between the ages of sixteen and twenty-six die of injuries nearly four times

as often as the more sensible sex; twenty thousand a year*. It's nothing

new. Nature was never that concerned about their safety. She liked them the

same as anyone does, but like temporary soldier ants, they were designed so

the rest of us would make it. She spent endless eons teaching young men to

be expendably stupid; yet sure of our intelligence, we tell these oblivious

warriors to be smart, and we send them out in the modern world with no

mention of their previous instructions - then we fall on the ground and

curse our Gods when they promptly impale themselves.

 

The end is disturbingly senseless for fledgling masters of the universe, but

nothing can stop the bloodshed. We beseech our heavens. We search our

learned institutions. The only place we will not look is around us. We will

not be compared to the ignorant swarms that slip unnoticed into this world,

follow instincts, reproduce, and vanish forever. We would give our lives for

our sons, but we will not warn them about their nature. We are Man, masters

of our destiny - governed by intelligence and put here to govern with

intelligence, a mandate we are loath to question.

 

Able to see beyond the "here and now", our vision is focused elsewhere when

other eyes grow wide and perfect breathing pieces of our immortality

struggle for their final breaths, and perhaps somewhere in this inscrutable

universe, the obscene irony is not completely lost. Faith looks to the

heavens and mumbles "We don't know why your son was called home". Intellect

just goes numb and turns away, but neither of them will ever look into your

face again. Nature goes about her regular ambush, grimly preparing our

species for modern life. Instinct gradually releases its terrible grip; and

deep in the grieving loins of our reasoned world, heroic embers slowly snuff

out. Of all the logic born of arrogance, the belief that we are natural

masters of our destiny is the most dangerous. Instinct cringes at the

impudence. History weeps.

 

Civilization is a relatively recent change in our living arrangements, a

veritable explosion of people and technology. An efficient but unnatural

state, it is characterized by spectacular success and spectacular failure.

Our instincts are designed for tribal living and some of them now work

against us. Our small-time hungers for power and riches give rise to tyranny

and exploitation on monstrous scales. Our orderly little social hierarchy

expands to wholesale privilege and poverty. Our "we/theyness" turns a blind

eye and for the first time on Earth, great wealth exists and generations of

noble humans live within sight of it, in perpetual squalor.

 

Pyramid beliefs offering paradise for their emissaries spread hope to the

downtrodden, but are inherently expansive and quarrelsome. Idealistic plans

to share the wealth are hard won, but promptly become inert and suffocating.

These fervent passions add righteousness and zeal to our blood feuds and our

dangerous willingness to be led. Population growth pushes all of our

factions against each other - rubbing, bristling, hating. Leaders inhale the

energy, growing heady and reckless. Causes are sanctified. Eternities

guaranteed. Plowshares are pounded into swords, and somewhere between the

promise and the drums, destiny calls. We fall to our knees and turn loose of

our sons and the ground runs red where they are fed to each other. The hard

dying happens elsewhere, the scratching dull-eyed fate of refugees.

 

The Gods are sickened, forced to watch a species devour itself. Divine

Tragedy and Divine Comedy mutter that we get what we deserve, and it would

be difficult to disagree. Divine Justice is strangely quiet. She was never

in favor of giving intelligence to mortal creatures - considering it

needlessly unkind. When pressed, she admits that we're a quarrelsome

delusionary breed, and that intellect is misused and widely wasted. Then,

with fire in her eyes, she leans forward and demands "What was expected?

What intelligent species would not have dominated the others, then turned on

itself? On a limited planet, what choice was offered? Where life is hard and

death is certain, what manner of creature would not scorn what it can see

and glorify what it can believe? How could this unfold any other way?"

 

Who knows why she cares? Perhaps it's because we pay so dearly. Unwilling to

accept the terms of our stay on this exquisite sphere, we deny all

connection to it - cheapening everything and missing our moment. There's

justice aplenty in that, and hope, there is hope too. Driven by

unmentionable forces, trampled by destiny again and again and getting up all

bloodied and cursing, but getting up each time a little farther along -

slowly stumbling out of the past - gradually finding ways to control our

numbers and rules to harness our instincts. Maybe she sees hope. Who knows?

 

***

 

*Figures are the latest (1999) taken from: Office of Statistics and

Programming, National Center for Injury Prevention andControl, Injury

Mortality Reports http://webapp.cdc.gov/sasweb/ncipc/mortrate.html Injury

deaths, ages 16-26, Female - 5,596 Male - 20,752