Showing posts sorted by relevance for query de Waal. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query de Waal. Sort by date Show all posts

Friday, May 19, 2017

Is Chimpanzee Politics Machiavelli's Politics?

                             The Picture on the Book Cover of Machiavellian Intelligence II

In 1967, Antony Jay published Management and Machiavelli: An Inquiry into the Politics of Corporate Life.  He argued that the pursuit of power in a modern corporation was just like the Renaissance politics described by Niccolo Machiavelli in The Prince, and that Machiavelli's principles for gaining and holding political power were also the best principles for successfully advancing one's position in a corporation.  His book is considered a classic of management science that was followed by dozens of other books on "Machiavellian management." 

Jay was also interested in how human behavior in organizations was like a lot of animal behavior.  In a 2005 interview, he said: "During my own experiences, I saw how an awful lot of animal behavior, particularly primate behavior, comes up in the modern corporation."  He also wrote the popular BBC television series "Yes, Minister" and "Yes, Prime Minister" that were comic depictions of British civil servants and government ministers fighting for dominance.

In 1970, Richard Christie and Florence Geis published Studies in Machiavellianism, in which they developed a procedure for identifying  the "Machiavellian personality" of people who unscrupulously pursue their selfish interests by manipulating and deceiving others.  They developed a "Mach Scale" based on whether people agree with a series of statements that are identified with Machiavelli.  In its most extreme form, the purest Machiavellian personality might be a psychopath, who manipulates and exploits other human beings unrestrained by any moral emotions of shame, guilt, or love.  The "Mach Scale" has been used extensively by social psychologists.

In 1982, Frans de Waal published Chimpanzee Politics: Power and Sex among Apes.  The book was based on de Waal's study of the chimpanzees in the Burgers' Zoo in Arnhem, the Netherlands.  At that time, this was the largest group of chimpanzees in a zoo (23 individuals).  During the warmer half of the year, they were free to move over a two-acre outdoor island area surrounded by a moat, which allowed for careful observations of their social behavior by de Waal and his students.

De Waal says that he couldn't understand what these chimpanzees were doing until he read Machiavelli: "The biological literature proved to be of no help understanding the social maneuvering that I observed, so I turned to Niccolo Machiavelli. During quiet moments of observation, I read from a book that had been published more than four centuries earlier.  The Prince put me in the right frame of mind to interpret what I was seeing on the chimpanzees' forested island, though I'm pretty sure the Florentine philosopher never envisioned this particular application" (de Waal 2016, 168).  He found that "whole passages of Machiavelli seem to be directly applicable to chimpanzee behavior" in explaining "the struggle for power and the resultant opportunism" (1982, 19).

In 1988, Richard Byrne and Andrew Whiten published their edited book Machiavellian Intelligence: The Evolution of Intellect in Monkeys, Apes, and Humans, which explored the "Machiavellian Intelligence Hypothesis"--the idea that the evolutionary growth in the size of primate and human brains could be explained as an adaptation for the cognitive challenges of navigating through the social complexity of primate communities in which individuals must figure out how best to both compete and cooperate with other members of their species.  This has been a popular topic of research for primatologists and for cognitive scientists generally, although the term "Machiavellian intelligence" is sometimes replaced by "social intelligence" or "social brain" by people like Robin Dunbar.

Michael Jackson and Damian Grace--social science scholars at the University of Sydney (Australia)--have complained that all of these applications of "Machiavellian" thinking to management, social psychology, and primatology show a crude distortion of what Machiavelli actually taught, and that those historians and political theorists who have studied Machiavelli should feel obligated to correct these false views of Machiavelli and his teaching (Jackson and Grace 2012, 2015).

They say that when they examined many of the textbooks on the history of political thought, "we found in them not one single reference to Machiavelli's afterlife in management, social psychology, or primatology" (2015, 68).  They did not look at my textbook on the history of political philosophy--Political Questions: Political Philosophy from Plato to Pinker.  If they had, they would have seen that my chapter on Machiavelli has passages on de Waal's Chimpanzee Politics, Byrne and Whiten's Machiavellian Intelligence, and Christie and Geis's Studies in Machiavellianism (see Arnhart 2015, 145-46, 151).  I also refer to Edward O. Wilson and Jane Goodall as biologists who study the power-seeking personality among chimpanzees and other animals.  I bring all of this up as I ask the question, Was Machiavelli a Machiavellian?  In other words, does Machiavelli's teaching correspond to the popular use of the term "Machiavellian" as denoting the ruthless pursuit of power over others through immoral force and fraud?  Jackson and Grace answer no to this question.

I am particularly interested in raising this question as it bears on primatology.  Is chimpanzee politics Machiavellian?  If it is, does this Machiavellian chimpanzee politics conform to what Machiavelli himself taught?  Or does this chimpanzee Machiavellianism depart from Machiavelli's teaching about politics?  Although Jackson and Grace are a little obscure on these points, they seem to say that while chimpanzee politics might be "Machiavellian" in the popular sense of that term, this contradicts what Machiavelli himself taught.

I will survey some of what de Waal says about chimpanzee politics.  Then I will consider the arguments of Jackson and Grace for denying that chimpanzee politics conforms to what Machiavelli teaches. Finally, I will suggest some ways in which the political life of chimpanzees really does manifest some of what Machiavelli teaches about politics.

When de Waal arrived at the Arnhem zoo in 1975 to study the chimpanzees, Yeroen was the alpha male.  Yeroen was dominant over three other adult males--Luit, Nikkie, and Dandy.  The social hierarchy is indicated by a special form of greeting.  Chimpanzees show a submissive greeting that is a sequence of short panting grunts by the subordinate individual as he looks up at the superior individual, which is usually accompanied by a series of deep bobbing bows by the subordinate.  Sometimes the subordinate will stretch out a hand to the superior or kiss the superior's feet, neck, or chest.  The superior reacts to this by rising up and making his hair stand on end, so that he looks very large in contrast to the groveling subordinate.  The alpha male is the male who is "greeted" by the other males.  Generally, the alpha male is also "greeted" by the females and the children in a group.

The male on the left is dominant.  The male on the right is subordinate.  Although they are actually the same size, the dominant male makes himself look bigger.


People often assume that among animals the dominance hierarchy must be determined by fighting in which the biggest and strongest animal wins and becomes the alpha.  But de Waal insists that this is false.  Among chimpanzees and other animals, physical strength is only one of many traits required for becoming the dominant alpha leader.  To become the alpha, one needs supporters.  So one must form coalitions with partners, and to win the support of the females and the children, one needs to act as a mediator in intervening in disputes to enforce peace and unity either through impartial intervention or by supporting the weaker party against the stronger.  One must know how to reconcile after disputes.  And one must know how to achieve mutual cooperation through reciprocity by returning favors and by punishing those who are not cooperative.  So a chimpanzee community is not governed by "the law of the jungle" or the "rule of the stronger."

There is a female hierarchy as well as a male hierarchy.  In fact, before de Waal arrived at the Arnhem Zoo, the alpha female--Mama--was the dominant chimp over the whole group beginning in 1972.  Then, on November 5th of 1973, three adult males--Yeroen, Luit, and Nikkie--were added to the group.  Mama refused to accept them.  With her friend, Gorilla, she attacked the males--biting their feet and pulling their hair.  Their fear of her was expressed in their screaming, diarrhea, and vomiting.  After two weeks of this, the zoo managers decided to remove Mama and Gorilla from the group, because these females were inflicting too many injuries through their uncontrolled aggression.  Males seem to be better at controlling their aggression.  And since it is known that in the wild adult males are dominant, it was thought that they should have a chance to become dominant without the interference of Mama.

After three months, Yeroen was dominant over the group.  Mama and Gorilla were brought back.  Mama attacked the three adult males.  But she had no support from the other females, not even Gorilla.  Without the solidarity of the females, Mama could not alone intimidate the males.  Within a few weeks, Yeroen was dominant again, and he remained dominant from the spring of 1974 to the spring of 1976.

In 1976, de Waal saw the first of two power take-overs, which he understood with the help of Machiavelli, and this is what became the central focus of his book Chimpanzee Politics.  In the spring of 1976, Luit stopped "greeting" Yeroen, which initiated months of tense conflict between them as they fought over which would be dominant.  Luit formed a coalition with Nikkie, so that Nikkie would help Luit against Yeroen. On June 21st, Yeroen bared his teeth for the first time, which is a sign of fear in chimps.  On September 1, Yeroen "greeted" Luit for the first time.  Luit began to take on the control role of the alpha male in mediating fights to restore peace in the group.  On October 31, Yeroen "greeted" Nikkie for the first time.  So, now, Luit was the alpha male, Nikkie was second in command, and Yeroen was ranked third.

But then, in the spring of 1977, Nikkie formed a coalition with Yeroen to challenge Luit, and by December of 1977, Luit was "greeting" Nikkie as his superior. Nikkie had become the alpha male, with Yeroen second in command.  The chimpanzees' keeper at the zoo worried, however, that Nikkie was too young and immature to properly control his aggression.  De Waal responded by arguing that Nikkie was so dependent on the support of Yeroen, the oldest male, that there was no need to fear "an absolute dictatorship by a snotty-nosed upstart" (1982, 136).

But now that winter had come, and the chimps were confined to their indoor housing, Nikkie's violence did become excessive.  Whenever Luit and Yeroen were sitting together, Nikkie fought to separate them and to be close to Yeroen.  Nikkie became so violent that de Waal and the keeper agreed that he needed to be removed from the group for the rest of the winter.  Once Nikkie was gone, Luit resumed his dominant position.  In the spring of 1978, the chimps were released to their outdoor island, Nikkie was reintroduced, and Nikkie soon reclaimed his dominance.

De Waal noticed something strange about Nikkie's alpha male dominance.  When Yeroen was the alpha male, he was "greeted" by the other adult males, and he also received almost all of the "greetings" from the females and children.  When Luit was the alpha male, he was "greeted" by the other adult males, and he also received over 50% of the "greetings" from the females and children.  But when Nikkie was the alpha male, he was "greeted" by the other alpha males, but he received a lower proportion of the "greetings" from the females and children than did Yeroen.  Moreover, Yeroen exercised the control role--mediating disputes and restoring peace--that would normally be exercised by the alpha male, and this increased the popular respect for Yeroen as opposed to Nikkie.  Echoing Machiavelli's famous remark that "it is better to be feared than loved," de Waal observed that Nikkie was "feared rather than respected" (1982, 149).  But de Waal suggests that this lack of popularity made Nikkie weak.

There was another strange feature of Nikkie's alpha male status. Generally, alpha male chimps have the highest number of sexual matings with the females, and they actively disrupt the attempted matings of other males.  This makes sense in evolutionary terms, because we assume that the drive for male dominance evolved as an adaptive trait because alpha males have higher reproductive fitness.  But during the period of Nikkie's dominance, Yeroen had the highest proportion of matings, and Nikkie was forced to tolerate this in order to keep Yeroen's support.

To explain this, de Waal quotes a passage from Chapter 9 of The Prince entitled "Of the Civil Principate."  A civil principate, Machiavelli explains, is when "a private citizen neither by wickedness nor other intolerable violence, but with the favor of his fellow citizens, becomes prince of his fatherland." 
"One ascends to this principate either with the favor of the people [populo] or with that of the great [grandi].  For in every city, these two different humors are to be found. Thus it is that the people desire not to be commanded or oppressed by the great, and the great desire to command and to oppress the people. . . ."
 "The principate is established either by the people or by the great, according to whether one of the other of these parties has the occasion.  For the great, when they see they are not able to resist the people, begin turning to the reputation of one of their own, making him prince, so they may, under his shadow, give vent to their appetite.  The people also, when they see that they are not able to resist the great, turn to the reputation of one, and make him a prince, so that he may with authority be their defense.  He who comes to the principate with the aid of the great maintains himself with more difficulty than the one who attains to it with the aid of the people--for he finds himself prince with many around him who opine themselves his equals, and because of this he cannot command or manage them in his own mode."
De Waal quotes the last sentence above, and he explains:
"Nikkie's position was not an easy one.  Compared to him Yeroen and Luit were almost all-powerful, thanks to the collaboration of the females.  The important difference between Nikkie's leadership and the old order was that Nikkie stood on the shoulders of someone who was himself very ambitious.  The ensuing problems are familiar enough in the human world.  Machiavelli wrote about the relative powerlessness of this kind of leader.  In in the following quotation from The Prince, we translate 'nobility' [the 'great'] by 'males of high rank' and 'common people' by 'females and children,' then we see that Nikkie's 'principality' is indeed very different from the 'principality' of his two predecessors" (1982, 153).
De Waal observes:
"Sometimes it seemed that Nikkie was being used as a figurehead, and that Yeroen--experienced as he was and extremely cunning--had him in the palm of his hand.  The broad basis for leadership rested not under Nikkie but under Yeroen.  The older male had a coalition with the females to pressurize Nikkie and a coalition with Nikkie to keep Luit in check.  Seen in these terms the situation appeared to represent a comeback for Yeroen.  Luit had deprived him of the support and respect he had hitherto enjoyed, but by pushing a youngster forward, Yeroen seemed to have succeeded in reacquiring both" (1982, 152).
But then, from 1978 to 1980, the proportion of the "greetings" directed from the females and the children towards Nikkie increased until he had the level of respect that normally goes to the alpha male.

In Chimpanzee Politics, de Waal ended the story here. But years later, he admitted that he had left out a brutal act in 1980 of what he called "political murder," because he didn't want to end his book on a "dark note" (de Waal 1986; 1998, 211).  In the summer of 1980, Nikkie refused to tolerate Yeroen's copulations with estrus females, and consequently Yeroen withdrew his support of Nikkie.  Without the coalition with Yeroen, Nikkie lost his dominance, and Luit became alpha male again for ten weeks.

But then Nikkie and Yeroen renewed their coalition and challenged Luit.  One night, while the chimps were in their night cages, Nikkie and Yeroen jointly attacked Luit--bitting off fingers and toes and then ripping out Luit's testicles.  Luit died from loss of blood.

The powerful jaws and teeth of adult males are deadly weapons.  Their incisors are like knives that can easily kill their victims.  But male chimps almost never use these weapons in lethal attacks.  There seems to be a rule against lethal fighting.  And yet the underlying threat of fighting to kill always creates tension in any severe conflict.  On rare occasions, killing does occur.  It's more likely to occur in war--in conflicts between chimpanzee groups rather than within a group.  Jane Goodall has seen this in Gombe.  De Waal could not see this because he was observing only one group.

De Waal's silence about the killing of Luit in the first edition of Chimpanzee Politics was not just to avoid ending the book on a "dark note," I suspect, but to avoid confirming the fears of those who had warned that establishing such a large community of chimps, including adult males, in a zoo without separating them in cages would lead to explosive and even lethal violence.  Since it was known that feeding chimps together created violence in fighting over the food, the Arnhem chimps were fed every morning and evening in separate cages so as to eliminate fighting over food.  But then being enclosed indoors every night during the warm months and throughout the day in the cold months created tension, because chimps in conflict could not separate.  Mama had to be removed in the winter of 1973, and Nikkie was removed in the winter of 1977, because their aggression was leading to serious injuries.  The killing of Luit in 1980 was during a night when Luit, Yeroen, and Nikkie were all caged together, and so Luit had no room to escape the attack.

The longest chapter in Machiavelli's The Prince--Chapter 19 on "Of Avoiding Contempt and Hatred"--is about how princes who become hated open themselves up to conspiracies leading to their assassination.  The killing of Luit seems to show that political assassination is also part of the Machiavellian politics of chimpanzees.

So why exactly do Jackson and Grace object to identifying chimpanzee politics as Machiavellian?  They suggest at least five arguments.  First, they object that what is called "Machiavellian" is based on "the more flamboyant passages" in The Prince--such as "it is better to be feared than loved"--without seeing how less flamboyant passages in The Prince moderate what Machiavelli is saying.  They write: "The Prince, like his other books, also offers moral judgments, recommendations of caution, emphasis on the importance of stability, advice on treating the populace with respect, and much else that surprises those whose stereotype of Machiavellianism is transposed to Niccolo Machiavelli" (Jackson and Grace 2012).

Second, they object that primatologists like de Waal have read only The Prince, and so they don't see Machiavelli's support for republicanism in The Discourses and other writings.

Third, they object that the popular view of Machiavellianism fails to see how Machiavelli was simply responding to his historical circumstances in Renaissance Italy in which political life was disrupted by domestic violence, warfare, brutality, and deceit.  The apparent cynicism of what Machiavelli says is a response to those harsh conditions.  They write: "The best analogy for the circumstances in which Machiavelli lived are to be found today in Afghanistan, Iraq, Mexico, or the remoter regions of Pakistan, where power does grow out of the barrel of a gun" (Jackson and Grace 2012).

Fourth, they argue that much of Machiavelli's writing is a factual description of what princes and politically ambitious people do without any endorsement of that behavior.

Fifth, they argue that Machiavelli is clear that the political class of people who strive for dominance over others is very small, and that most human beings do not have such a dominance drive, and they wish only to live their private lives in peace without being exploited by those who wish to dominate them.  In a republic, Machiavelli indicates, the desire to be free is for most people a desire to be free to live a secure life; and it is only for a few people--perhaps no more than 40 or 50--that the desire to be free is a desire to be free so as to command others `(Discourses, I, ch. 16).

Oddly, however, Jackson and Grace don't reflect on the fact that much of what de Waal says about Machiavelli and the chimps agrees with some of their arguments.  De Waal indicates that he does not like the term "Machiavellian intelligence" insofar as it assumes the crudely distorted popular meaning of "Machiavellian":
"The term Machiavellian implies a cynical, the-ends-justify-the-means exploitation of others.  Social cognition covers much more than this.  A mother resolving a weaning conflict by cleverly distracting her offspring, or an adult male waiting for the right moment to reconcile with his rival, both intelligently use their experience but are not exactly acting 'Machiavellian' in the usual sense.  Sensitivity to others, conflict resolution, and reciprocal exchange all demand a great deal of intelligence but are left out if our terminology one-sidedly emphasizes one-upmanship" (1998, 218).
Thus, de Waal agrees with Jackson and Grace in rejecting the popular sense of "Machiavellian."  He also agrees that this Machiavellian idea of "a cynical, the-ends-justify-the-means exploitation of others" cannot explain chimpanzee social life, which requires "sensitivity to others, conflict resolution, and reciprocal exchange."  In Chimpanzee Politics, De Waal sees in chimpanzee life the evolutionary roots of morality--a "sense of moral rightness and justice" (1982, 105, 111-12, 176, 200, 204-205, 207, 212-13).

In his writing published after Chimpanzee Politics, which Jackson and Grace ignore, de Waal argues that chimpanzees show the evolutionary foundations of morality--including reciprocity, fairness, empathy, and social cooperation.  De Waal has summarized some of the evidence for this in a TED talk:



And while Jackson and Grace accuse the Machiavellian primatologists of ignoring Machiavelli's teaching about the importance of a republican politics that respects the needs of the populace, De Waal sees in chimpanzee politics a democratic or republican structure like that recommended by Machiavelli with a balance of three orders--the one, the few, and the many.

Machiavelli analyzed politics as competition for power and glory organized around three orders of human beings--the "prince," who is number one; the "great ones," who are high-ranking individuals with ambition to rule; and the "people," who are the great majority of individuals in a society with no ambition to rule, but who do not want to be oppressed by the "prince" or the "great ones," because they want to live their private lives in security and peace.  A stable and peaceful regime would have to balance these three orders in a manner that would satisfy the ambitions and appetites of all three without anyone having the power to tyrannize over others (The Prince, ch. 9, 57-60; The Discourses, I.2, 10-14).

De Waal saw a similar social structure among the chimpanzees: the alpha male chimp is the "prince"; the high-ranking males are the "great ones"; and the females and children are the "people."  The similarities between chimpanzee politics and human politics were so close that Newt Gingrich, when he was Speaker of the House of Representatives of the U.S. Congress, recommended de Waal's book to all freshmen congressmen who might want to understand Washington politics.

Just as Machiavelli saw the balance of three orders in a republic as the fundamental mechanism for maintaining a stable and free political regime that would not be despotic, de Waal saw the same mechanism at work among chimps.  Noticing how the alpha male often had to rely on the support of an ally to keep challengers down, de Waal explained this as a "balance of power: the superiority of one party over another depends on the support of a third, so that each party affects the position of the others."  De Waal observed that the leader "cannot impose his leadership on the group single-handed. His position is granted him, in part, by the other chimpanzees.  The leader, or alpha male, is just as much ensnared in the web as the rest" (1982, 23).  So, among chimps, there is something like government by the consent of the governed. 

De Waal sees here what some political scientists have called government by the "minimal winning coalition" (de Waal 1982, 187; Bueno de Mesquita and Smith 2011). No one individual can rule without supporters, and so there must always be a ruling coalition supporting the leader, who must satisfy his supporters.  A dictatorship is rule by a small coalition.  Democracy is rule by a large coalition.  The leader must serve the interests of his coalition, and so the larger the coalition, the closer this approximates to serving the common interests of society.

Consequently, there was something like a "democratic structure" in this order of chimpanzee society:
"All parties search for social significance and continue to do so until a temporary balance is achieved.  This balance determines the new hierarchical positions. Changing relationships reach a point where they become 'frozen' in more or less fixed ranks.  When we see how this formalization takes place during reconciliations, we understand that the hierarchy is a cohesive factor, which puts limits on competition and conflict. Child care, playing, sex and cooperation depend on the resultant stability.  But underneath the surface, the situation is constantly in a state of flux. The balance of power is tested daily, and if it proves too weak, it is challenged, and a new balance is established" (1982, 176, 212-13; 1998, 172, 208-209).
Although every human society shows an order of dominance like that of a chimpanzee society, a well-balanced society can achieve egalitarian dominance rather than despotic dominance.  De Waal has observed that rhesus monkeys manifest despotic dominance, because a dominant rhesus monkey instills unremitting fear in subordinates.  But among chimpanzees, the dominant chimp often acts to protect subordinates, and if he becomes a bully, he can provoke an alliance of subordinates to throw him out of power (de Waal 1996, 125-32).

This seems to be what happens in egalitarian human communities.  Among hunter-gatherers, leaders who become too proud are attacked with social ridicule, and in extreme cases, leaders can be deposed or even executed by their followers.  With the establishment of centralized, bureaucratic states, it became possible for despots to concentrate their power.  And yet the natural human desire to be free from despotic exploitation has provoked alliances among subordinates to check the power of dominants, which has promoted political systems for balancing power.  In their style of political dominance, human beings are more like chimpanzees than rhesus monkeys (Boehm 1999, 2012; Rubin 2002; Turner and Maryanski 2008).

John Adams agreed with Machiavelli that every society shows three social orders rooted in human nature--the one, the few, and the many--and that a stable and free republic requires a balance of these three orders.  Adams saw this balance in the American and British constitutions (Arnhart 2009, 73-84; Ryerson 2016).

Adams believed that human nature is such that every human society must decide the question, Who is the first man?  "It is a question that must be decided, in every species of gregarious animals, as well as men."  In a savage state, this question is decided by physical combat between contenders.  But even in the most civilized societies, "the same nature remains," and the contest for first rank must be decided, whether by peaceful or by violent rivalry.  The balance of powers answers this question by providing for a supreme executive office to be filled by one with sufficient ambition to strive for it, while still checking the power of this executive officer with the powers of other offices.

At the top of every society, Adams thought, there will be competition among the "first men" for the highest rank.  The people of a society will fix their attention on these men at the top.  And if there is division over who should fill the dominant position, the society will be thrown into turmoil and eventually civil war.  For this reason, societies should select a single person with executive authority separated from the rest of society and from the legislative body.  This chief executive unifies a society and directs its management.  This executive can then mediate between the passions of the ambitious few who want to rule and the passions of the deferential many who want to be free from oppression by the ambitious few.

Machiavelli and Adams saw this balance of three orders as a republican form of government best designed in conformity to human nature.  De Waal and other primatologists can see the evolutionary precursors of this human nature in the political life of chimpanzees.

And, after all, as de Waal has observed, can't we see a lot of chimpanzee politics in Donald Trump?  Trump once told People magazine: "Man is the most vicious of all animals, and life is a series of battles ending in victory or defeat.  You just can't let people make a sucker out of you."


REFERENCES

Arnhart, Larry. 2009. Darwinian Conservatism: A Disputed Question. Ed. Kenneth Blanchard. Exeter, UK: Imprint Academic.

Arnhart, Larry. 2015. Political Questions: Political Philosophy from Plato to Pinker. 4th edition. Long Grove, IL: Waveland Press.

Boehm, Christopher. 1999. Hierarchy in the Forest: The Evolution of Egalitarian Behavior. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Boehm, Christopher. 2012. Moral Origins: The Evolution of Virtue, Altruism, and Shame. New York: Basic Books.

Bueno de Mesquita, Bruce, and Alastair Smith. 2011. The Dictator's Handbook: Why Bad Behavior is Almost Always Good Politics. New York: Public Affairs.

Byrne, Richard, and Andrew Whiten, eds. 1988. Machiavellian Intelligence: Social Expertise and the Evolution of Intellect in Monkeys, Apes, and Humans. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Jackson, Michael, and Damian Grace. 2012. "Machiavellian Monkey Business: Machiavellian Intelligence in Primates and Machiavelli." The Montreal Review, December. Available online.

Jackson, Michael, and Damian Grace. 2015. "Machiavelli's Shadows in Management, Social Psychology, and Primatology." Theoria 62: 67-84. Available online.

Jay, Antony. 1967. Management and Machiavelli: An Inquiry into the Politics of Corporate Life. New York: Bantam Books.

Machiavelli, Niccolo. 1989. The Prince. Trans. Leo Paul de Alvarez. Long Grove, IL: Waveland Press.

Machiavelli, Niccolo. 1996. Discourses on Livy. Trans. Harvey C. Mansfield and Nathan Tarcov. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Rubin, Paul H. 2002. Darwinian Politics: The Evolutionary Origins of Freedom. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press.

Ryerson, Richard Alan. 2016. John Adams's Republic: The One, the Few, and the Many. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press.

Turner, Jonathan H., and Alexandra Maryanski. 2008. On the Origin of Societies by Natural Selection. Boulder, CO: Paradigm Publishers.

de Waal, Frans. 1982. Chimpanzee Politics: Power and Sex among Apes. New York: Harper & Row.

de Waal, Frans. 1986. "The Brutal Elimination of a Rival Among Captive Male Chimpanzees." Ethology and Sociobiology 7: 89104.

de Waal, Frans. 1996. Good Natured: The Origins of Right and Wrong in Humans and Other Animals. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

de Waal, Frans. 1998. Chimpanzee Politics: Power and Sex among Apes. Revised edition. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.

de Waal, Frans. 2016. Are We Smart Enough to Know How Smart Animals Are? New York: W. W. Norton & Company.


Some of my other posts on these themes can be found here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here., here., here, and here.

Sunday, September 22, 2019

Third-Party Punishment in Nonhuman Primates? The Tomasello-de Waal Debate

                                               Frans de Waal on "Moral Behavior in Animals"

If the morality of third-party punishment is part of our evolved human nature, as indicated in the previous post, then we might ask whether this is also found in our closest evolutionary relatives--chimpanzees and other primates.  Among primatologists, there is disagreement about this.  Michael Tomasello and his colleagues argue that there is no third-party punishment in chimpanzees (Riedl et al. 2012).  But Frans de Waal and his colleagues argue that in fact chimpanzees and other primates (such as pigtailed macaques) do show third-party punishment (Flack et al. 2005; Flack et al. 2006; von Rohr et al. 2012; Suchak et al. 2016).  This is part of a more general debate in which Tomasello tends to emphasize human uniqueness compared with other primates, while de Waal tends to emphasize the similarities between human beings and other primates.  (I have written about this debate herehere, and here.)

In his first--and most popular--book Chimpanzee Politics, de Waal described the Machiavellian politics that he observed in the chimpanzee colony at Burgers' Zoo in Arnhem, the Netherlands.  In the summer of 1976, he saw the overthrow of Yeroen, who had been the alpha male, by Luit.  A few weeks after becoming the new alpha male, Luit adopted a policy that would make him "the champion of peace and security" and thus win the support of the females and the children to strengthen his position against his male rivals for dominance.  Whenever a fight broke out among the chimps, Luit intervened to restore the peace.  Sometimes he would intervene impartially, not favoring one side over the other, but forcing the two sides apart and hitting anyone who tried to continue the fight.  At other times, he intervened to support the weaker party against the stronger--helping the lower ranking individual against the higher ranking individual who would normally win the fight.  De Waal called this the "control role" of the alpha male (1982, 124-25).  He thought the control role of the alpha male was "not so much a favor as a duty," because his position depended on keeping the peace and protecting the females and the children from attack so that they will help him in repulsing his male rivals.

In his later writings, de Waal has identified the "control role" as "policing"--intervening impartially to control conflict.  This term "policing" was first used by biologists studying social insects as the term for how insects monitor behavior and suppress conflict through impartial enforcement of norms by bystanders.  (I have written about the "bee police" here.)

                                                "The Surprising Science of Alpha Males"

Against de Waal's claims, Tomasello and his colleagues have asserted that de Waal has not presented any direct tests of third party punishment of violations of cooperation among chimpanzees or other primates.  In 2012, they reported their own experimental study in which 13 captive chimpanzees were presented with an opportunity to engage in third-party punishment, but they failed to do so (Riedl et al. 2012).  Three chimpanzees occupied three separate cages designated as "victim," "thief," and "actor."  A tray of food was in front of the victim's cage.  The thief could pull a rope to drag the tray towards his own cage and thus steal the food.  While observing this theft, the actor could pull a rope or press a button to collapse the food tray into a box out of reach of the chimpanzees.  The actor was either dominant over the thief or subordinate to the thief.  But in neither case did the actor punish the thief for stealing the food from the victim.  However, in a test of second-party punishment, where the thief stole food from the actor, and the actor was dominant over the thief, the actor did punish the thief.  This seemed to show that chimpanzee punishment is restricted to retaliation against personal harm, when the punisher is in a position of dominance.

De Waal and his colleagues insist that they have observed third-party policing, or intervening impartially to control conflict, in captive groups of pigtailed macaques and chimpanzees (Flack et al. 2005; von Rohr et al. 2012).  They do concede, however, that this is one of the rarest forms of conflict management among primates, and that most of the policing interventions that do occur are carried out by a few dominant individuals.

De Waal suggests that Tomasello's failure to see third-party punishment in his experiment arose from his limited laboratory setting in which two or three apes were brought into a very contrived situation.  De Waal describes his own experimental setting that mimics natural conditions in which many individuals have an open choice for cooperation, competition, and enforcement mechanisms (Suchak et al. 2016).  A group of 11 captive chimpanzees was put before a pulling apparatus where two or three individuals were required to pull together to obtain a food reward.  The experiment took place in 94 one hour sessions--occurring two to three times per week--that were videotaped.  During these sessions, the chimpanzees could pull jointly at the apparatus to obtain the reward, and this would be counted as a cooperative act.  They were also free to engage in competitive acts--freeloading (stealing the reward without pulling), displacement (taking someone's place at the apparatus), or fighting.

The cooperative pulling experiment was originally designed by Meredith Crawford in 1937 to test for cooperation among chimpanzees.  Since then, many different species of animals have been tested with cooperative pulling experiments.  The Wikipedia article on this is good.

Over the 94 hours of de Waal's experiment, there were a total of more than 600 competitive interactions (freeloading, displacement, or fighting) and 3,565 cooperative interactions--an average of one cooperative act every 2 minutes.  The rate of cooperation versus competition fluctuated over the 94 hours--starting with high cooperation then dropping to more competitive interactions and finally rising to almost complete cooperation at the end.

There were 175 attempts at freeloading, and 91 were successful (63%).  Most of the punishment for freeloading was second-party punishment--that is, the victim of freeloading retaliated against the freeloader.  Third-party outsiders intervened to punish freeloaders only 14 times (8% of the freeloading events).  Four of these third-party interventions were impartial or policing interventions, in which a dominant chimp intervened to stop a fight between a freeloader and a victim of freeloading.  In nine of the 10 partial interventions, the intervening dominant individual favored the victim of freeloading over the freeloader.  So third-party punishment did occur, but it was quite rare.

The primary means for enforcing cooperation was not direct punishment but partner choice.  Victims of freeloading or displacement chose to withdraw from the freeloading and displacing individuals, and then they sought out individuals of similar rank who could be counted on to cooperate.  Partner choice can be seen as indirect punishment or indirect reciprocity, in which individuals cooperate with those who have a reputation for being cooperative.

The rarity of the third-party punishment seen by de Waal and his colleagues might explain why Tomasello and his colleagues have not seen this at all.  This also suggests that nonhuman primates show only the evolutionary precursors or building blocks for the fully developed third-party punishment practiced by human beings.

REFERENCES

de Waal, Frans.  1982. Chimpanzee Politics: Power and Sex Among Apes. New York: Harper and Row.

Flack, Jessica, Frans de Waal, and David Krakauer. 2005. "Social Structure, Robustness, and Policing Cost in a Cognitively Sophisticated Species." The American Naturalist 165: E126-E139.

Flack, Jessica, Michelle Girvan, Frans de Waal, and David Krakauer. 2006. "Policing Stabilizes Construction of Social Niches in Primates." Nature 439: 426-429.

Reidl, Katrin, Keith Jensen, Josep Call, and Michael Tomasello. 2012. "No Third-Party Punishment in Chimpanzees." Proceedings of the National Academy of Science 109: 14824-14829.

Suchak, Malini, Timothy Eppley, Matthew Campbell, Rebecca Feldman, Luke Quarles, and Frans de Waal. 2016. "How Chimpanzees Cooperate in a Competitive World." Proceedings of the National Academy of Science 113: 10215-10220.

von Rohr, Claudia Rudolf, Sonja Koski, Judith Burkart, Clare Caws, Orlaith Fraser,  Angela Ziltener, Carel van Schaik. 2012. "Impartial Third-Party Interventions in Captive Chimpanzees: A Reflection of Community Concern." PLoS ONE 7: e32494.

Tuesday, May 31, 2022

The Natural Desire for In-Group Loyalty Denies Animal Rights: Frans de Waal on the Biological Ethics of Animal Emotions

I have defended an evolutionary theory of morality as rooted in the moral emotions of evolved human nature.  In stressing the importance of the moral sentiments for moral psychology, this evolutionary theory belongs to the philosophic tradition of sentimentalist ethics that includes David Hume, Adam Smith, Edward Westermarck, Edward Wilson, and Frans de Waal--a tradition that is set against the Platonic and Kantian tradition of rationalist ethics.

I have written previously about how de Waal's version of this evolutionary theory recognizes both the continuity and discontinuity in the moral psychology of animals (de Waal 2006).  According to de Waal, the moral sentiments constitute the first level of morality--the emotional building blocks of morality that include empathy, reciprocity, retribution, a sense of fairness, and reconciliation to resolve conflicts and restore harmonious relationships.  These moral sentiments can be seen in some form in many species of nonhuman animals.

De Waal identifies social pressure as the second level of morality.  Through social praise and blame, individuals are habituated to conform to the social rules of their group that maintain the good order of the community.  These rules are enforced through reward, punishment, and reputation.  In these ways, morality serves as a social contract for a cooperative society.  Some of this can be seen in some nonhuman animals.  For example, high-ranking males in chimpanzee groups engage in "policing behavior"--these males break up fights among others, and their intervention seems to be remarkably evenhanded.  Nevertheless, the human morality of social pressure goes beyond the morality of other animals in that human beings can formulate social rules that are more abstract and systematic than is the case for other animals.  Much of this abstract rulemaking depends on the human capacity for language.

Finally, judgment and reasoning constitute a third level of morality, and this is uniquely human.  De Waal observes: "I know of no parallels in animals for moral reasoning" (2006, 174). We are like other social animals in that we care about our reputations--how we appear in the eyes of others--so that we want to be praised and not blamed by others.  But we can also use our distinctly human capacity for abstraction and imagination to see ourselves mirrored in the eyes of an imagined "impartial spectator" (as Adam Smith called it), so that we want to do what is praiseworthy, regardless of whether we are actually praised by anyone.  We care not only about our real reputation but also about our imaginary reputation.  From this we develop an internal sense of self-esteem or conscience, so that even when other people do not punish us for our bad conduct, we punish ourselves by feeling guilt or shame.  Those few human beings who never feel guilt or shame are psychopaths who have no conscience because they do not feel the moral emotions.  (I have written about psychopaths as "moral strangers.")  There is no evidence for anything like conscience or the impartial spectator in nonhuman animals.  (I have written about Smith's concept of the "impartial spectator.")

And yet even if nonhuman animals do not show the full range of human morality, these animals do show some of the moral emotions; and therefore, de Waal argues, these nonhuman animals do deserve to be treated with some moral respect.  But then we might wonder whether these animals have equal rights.  Are we morally obligated to give equal consideration to the interests of all sentient beings, as Peter Singer has argued?  Must we see the immorality not only in racism and sexism but also speciesism?

Recently, de Waal and Kristin Andrews have surveyed the evidence from affective neuroscience suggesting that many animals, even invertebrates, experience emotions of pleasure and pain that should give them some moral standing (de Waal and Andrews 2022).  Through emotions and felt experience (sentience), organisms judge experiences as attractive or aversive, and these physical and mental states of attraction or aversion prepare the organism for adaptive action.

So, for example, since there is increasing evidence that lobsters are sentient and experience emotions of pleasure and pain, de Waal claims, it is wrong for human beings to kill them by boiling them.  Either we shouldn't kill them at all, or there should find some ethical way to kill them.

But then de Waal recognizes that Singer's argument for equal animal rights fails because it's morally impossible for human beings to give equal consideration to the interests of all sentient beings.  This is impossible because there is an evolved natural desire for in-group loyalty.  This belongs to my list of the twenty natural desires.  

There is an expanding circle of human moral concern that begins with each individual being concerned for himself and then extends first to the individual's family and friends and beyond that to the community, tribe, or nation, and beyond that to some humanitarian feeling for distant strangers who might be brought to one's attention, and then finally to all life forms.  But typically, the moral emotions of sympathy become weaker as they are extended farther out on the expanding circle (de Waal 2006, 163-66).

Loyalty is a moral duty in that we expect people to care more for those close to them than to distant strangers or to nonhuman animals.  Inevitably, there are conflicts of interest within and between species.  So that moral systems are inherently biased towards the in-group.  For that reason, the moral sentimentalists like Adam Smith, Edward Westermarck, and de Waal, who speak of the impartiality required for moral sentiments recognize that this cannot be an absolute impartiality but only an apparent impartiality.  After all, if human beings were absolutely impartial, they would not care for themselves, for other human beings, or for other animals, because nothing would really matter.

That we should feel some sympathy for other animals, particularly for those animals that are close to us or that elicit our parental care, is an expression of our morality.  We know that one sign that a child might grow up to be a psychopath is that he is unusually cruel in his treatment of animals.  And it is mostly a he, because most psychopaths are male.

But still most of us agree that it is right to kill animals for food and other products, and that it is right to use animals for painful medical experiments necessary for developing drugs and therapies for human beings and for the scientific understanding of mammalian physiology and neurology.  We should feel some concern for minimizing animal suffering.  But we feel much more concern for minimizing human suffering.

As Westermarck observed, "absolute impartiality . . . would concede to all sentient creatures equal rights," but "impartiality . . . is not absolute, only relative, that is, impartiality within certain limits" (1900, 185).  Our sympathy for nonhuman animals is limited by our partiality for human beings.  "Humanity to animals" does require "that we ought to pay some regard to their feelings," Westermarck suggested, but this does not mean "that they should be regarded equally with the feelings of men" (1932, 213).

Even our sympathy for other human beings is limited by our in-group loyalty.  In war, fighting for one's country against the enemy is a moral duty.  Betraying one's country is treason.  But still, it can be a moral duty to refuse to fight in an unjust war.


REFERENCES

de Waal, Frans. 2006. Primates and Philosophers: How Morality Evolved, edited by Stephen Macedo and Josiah Ober. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

de Waal, Frans, and Kristin Andrews. 2022. "The Question of Animal Emotions." Science 375: 1351-52.

Westermarck, Edward. 1900. "Remarks on the Predicates of Moral Judgment." Mind 9: 184-204.

Westermarck, Edward. 1932. Ethical Relativity. London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner and Company.

Tuesday, November 04, 2014

Chimps Play Fair in the Ultimatum Game

The model of Homo economicus--that human beings are rational maximizers of their selfish interests--has been challenged by ultimatum bargaining experiments.  In the ultimatum game, there is a pool of money (say $100) to be split between two people.  The person designated as the proposer must offer a split to the other person designated as the responder.  If the responder accepts the offer, the money is split as proposed, but if the responder rejects the offer, then neither person receives any of the money.  Homo economicus would propose to take most of the money for himself (say $95) and give little to the other person ($5), and the responder would accept this unfair offer, because even a small share of the money is better than nothing.  In most experiments, this does not happen.  Proposers tend to offer 40% to 50% of the money to the responders, and the responders tend to reject any offer to themselves of less than 20%.  This seems to show a sense of fairness.  Responders are willing to suffer a cost to themselves to express their resentment against unfair offers by punishing the unfair proposers, and proposers are inclined to make fair offers, perhaps anticipating that they will be punished if they make an unfair offer.

There is some cultural variation in the results of these ultimatum game experiments.  In a few tribal societies, proposers tend to make unfair offers that are generally accepted by responders.  One of the factors explaining this is that these societies have little experience with market exchanges, and thus they have not developed the norms of fair exchange that tend to arise in societies where trading in markets is an important part of their economy. 

This seems to provide experimental confirmation for Adam Smith's claim about the influence of commerce on the manners of a people.  "Whenever commerce is introduced into any country, probity and punctuality always accompany it.  These virtues in a rude and barbarous country are almost unknown. . . . A dealer is afraid of losing his character, and is scrupulous in observing every engagement.  When a person makes perhaps 20 contracts in a day, he cannot gain so much by endeavouring to impose on his neighbors, as the very appearance of a cheat would make him lose.  Where people seldom deal with one another, we find that they are somewhat disposed to cheat, because they can gain more by a smart trick that they can lose by the injury which it does their character" (Lectures on Jurisprudence, 538-39).  Commerce fosters a concern for one's reputation for being trustworthy and fair.  Moreover, Smith argues in The Theory of Moral Sentiment, all of our morality can be explained as rooted ultimately in our concern for how we appear to others, for winning their approbation and avoiding their disapprobation.  This concern for our public appearance can be internalized as a conscience in which we imagine how we would appear to a perfectly informed and impartial spectator.  Thus we care not only about being praised but also about being praiseworthy.

If human beings show a sense of fairness in how they play the ultimatum game, then we might wonder whether other animals closely related to us in their evolutionary ancestry show a similar sense of fairness, which would suggest that human morality has deep evolutionary origins.  This question has provoked a debate among primatologists and evolutionary psychologists.  On the one side, Michael Tomasello and Josep Call have concluded that the expression of a sense of fairness in the ultimatum game is unique to human beings, and that chimpanzees show no concern for fairness in their play of the ultimatum game, because they are actually rational maximizers of their selfish interests.  On the other side, Frans de Waal and Sarah Brosnan have concluded that chimpanzees really do show some sense of fairness in their play of the ultimatum game, and this suggests that human morality has evolutionary roots in a primate ancestry shared with chimpanzees.

Until recently, the testing of chimpanzees in simulated ultimatum games failed to show any concern for fairness.  But in recent years, de Waal, Brosnan, and their colleagues have shown that chimpanzees do tend to make fair offers in playing the ultimatum game.  In this short video, you can see how they designed their experiment.  One individual chose between two tokens (functioning as money) that could be exchanged for food.  One token could be exchanged for an equal division of the food with another individual.  The other token would favor the proposer with a larger portion of the food.  Once the proposer had selected a token, the responding individual could either transmit the token to the experimenter, who would divide the food as indicated, or the responder could refuse to transmit the token, and neither individual would receive any food.  In 75% of the trials, the proposer choose the equitable token (a 50/50 split) over the inequitable token.  Although the responder never rejected any offer, the responder did often express irritation when the inequitable token was offered--sometimes by spitting water at the proposer.  Experiments with human children (2-7 years old) showed the same pattern of behavior.

De Waal and Brosnan have also shown "inequity aversion" in experiments with monkeys and chimpanzees.  Two individuals are put near to one another in cages.  They perform some simple tasks to earn tokens that they can exchange for food.  At first, they are given slices of cucumber, and they are happy with that.  But then one of them receives a grape, which is much more desirable than a cucumber.  Now, when the other individual receives a slice of cucumber, he protests by throwing the food away and pounding on his cage.  At the end of his TED talk on "Moral Behavior in Animals," de Waal shows a video of this experiment, and he suggests that the angry monkey's behavior is similar to that of the "occupy Wall Street" protesters.

As de Waal indicates, this research provoked indignant responses from philosophers who insisted that monkeys and apes could not show any sense of fairness, because this must be unique to human beings.  Some of them argued that to show a true sense of fairness, it was not enough for the unfairly treated animal to protest, but the animal benefiting from the unfairness should also protest against this unfair outcome.  Remarkably, there is now some evidence that chimpanzees do show this: the chimpanzees will react negatively not only when they receive the less desirable food but also when they receive the more desirable food (see Brosnan et al. 2010; de Waal 2014)!

And yet, when one actually looks at the data in these experiments, the conclusions that de Waal and Brosnan draw from them might be disputed.  For example, one set of experiments involved 16 adult chimpanzees, 10 males and 6 females (Brosnan et al. 2010).  The chimps were trained to exchange an inedible token that they had been given for a food reward. They could refuse to do this by refusing to accept the token, by refusing to accept the food, by not returning the token, by not eating the food, by sharing the token with a partner, by sharing the food with a partner, by pushing away the token, or by pushing away the food. 

In the inequity test, where the subject received a low value food (carrot), and the partner received a high value food (grape), the percentage of total refusals (either refusing to return the token or refusing to accept the food) was 30% for the males and 8% for the females.  6% refused by either pushing away the token or pushing away the food.  So the great majority of individuals did not refuse the inequitable distribution.  In his public  lectures like his TED talk, de Waal shows a brief film clip of a chimpanzee throwing away the low value food (carrot or slice of cucumber), when the other chimpanzee has received the high value food (grape), and the audience laughs.  But de Waal does not show the film of the many times that chimpanzees in the inequity test accept the inequitable distribution.  So the audience does not see that the "inequity aversion" that de Waal claims is shown only in the minority of cases.  

Brosnan and de Waal have suggested that this sense of fairness did not evolve for the sake of fairness as such but for the sake of beneficial cooperation.  Both chimpanzees and human beings are highly cooperative animals who need the cooperation of individuals who are not their kin.  Evolution will favor the propensity to cooperate only as long as the cooperating individuals receive roughly equal benefits from the cooperation.  Individuals who feel that they are not receiving equal benefits will withdraw from the cooperative activity, and thus those receiving more than their fair share will be punished.

Human beings show this same evolutionary psychology of fairness.  But they are unique in that their cognitive abilities and their capacity for language allow them to develop and enforce rules of fairness that are far more abstract and complex than is possible for chimpanzees.

Tomasello and his colleagues have defended their position against the critique by Brosnan and de Waal (Jensen et al. 2013).


REFERENCES

Brosnan, Sarah, et al., "Mechanisms Underlying Responses to Inequitable Outcomes in Chimpanzees, Pan troglodytes," Animal Behaviour 79 (2010): 1220-1237.

Brosnan, Sarah, and Frans de Waal, "Evolution of Responses to (Un)fairness," Science 346 (17 October 2014): DOI: 10.1126/science.1251776.

de Waal, Frans, "Natural Normativity: The "Is" and "Ought" of Animal Behavior," Behaviour 151 (2014): 185-204.

Jensen, Keith, Josep Call, and Michael Tomasello, "Chimpanzees Are Rational Maximizers in an Ultimatum Game," Science 318 (5 October 2007): 107-109.

Jensen, Keith, Josep Call, and Michael Tomasello, "Chimpanzee Responders Still Behave Like Rational Maximizers." Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 110 (2013): E1837.

Milinski, Manfred, "Chimps Play Fair in the Ultimatum Game," Proceedings of the National Academy of Science 110 (5 February 2013): 1978-1979.

Proctor, Darby, Rebecca Williamson, Frans de Waal, and Sarah Brosnan, "Chimpanzees Play the Ultimatum Game," Proceedings of the National Academy of Science 110 (5 February 2013): 2070-2075).  Available online.

Other posts on this debate can be found here, here, here., here, and here.

Friday, August 12, 2011

The de Waal/Tomasello Debate in Primate Studies

As hard as it is to read the minds of our fellow human beings, it is even harder to read the minds of other animals.

Aristotle's biological works are full of observations about animal minds that qualify him as the first animal psychologist. His general conclusion was that there were traces of almost every human mental ability in other animals, which included emotions, parental care, social learning, communication, imagination, practical judgment, and even something close to intellect. He argued that some animals were capable of voluntary action like that of human children, although they lacked the capacity for deliberate choice that arises in human adults. Some animals are solitary and others gregarious. Of the gregarious animals, some are political. Some of the political animals have leaders. The distinguishing characteristic of the political animals is that they cooperate for some common work or function (koinon ergon). Humans, bees, ants, wasps, and cranes are all political animals in this sense (HA, 488a7-14).

So while human beings are not the only political animals, they are the most political animals, because through speech or reason (logos), they share their conceptions of the advantageous, the just, and the good (Pol, 1253a1-18). Through speech, human beings cooperate for shared ends in ways that are more complex, more flexible, and more extensive that is possible for other political animals. Through speech, human beings can deliberate about the "common advantage" (koinon sumpheron) as the criterion of justice (Rh, 1362a15-63b5). A just political community can be judged to be one that serves the common advantage of all its members, as contrasted with an unjust political community that serves only the private advantage of its ruling group (NE, 1160a13-14; Pol, 1279a17-19).

Aristotle's comparative animal psychology includes the observation that monkeys and apes belong to intermediate species close to human beings in that they "share in the nature of both a human being and the quadrupeds" (HA, 502a16). From his anatomical comparisons, which included dissections of monkeys and apes, he concluded that in their feet, legs, hands, face, teeth, and internal parts, the apes are humanlike (HA 502a17-b27; PA, 689b1-35).

And yet, in relying on direct observations of animal behavior and anatomical dissection, Aristotle, like any animal psychologist, had no direct access to the animal mind. With human beings, he had the data of speech, and thus he could study human politics through the study of political rhetoric in which human beings debate their opinions about political life. Other animals communicate in other ways, but this animal communication is often not as rich as human speech, although Aristotle observed the waggle dance of bees, which we now know to be a remarkably complex form of abstract communication.

The fundamental problem is that the social reality of animal life--including human life--is a mental construction of the animal mind that goes beyond the physical reality of the directly observable world. To understand that mental construction of social reality, we have to draw from our inward subjective experience of our minds and our intersubjective world of symbolism. From our observation of animal behavior, we can project some of our mental experience onto them, but we can never be sure how accurate this is.

We have to assume, as Aquinas said, that "the internal passions of animals can be gathered from their outward movements" (ST, I-II, q. 34, a. 4). But then, as Darwin observed in The Descent of Man, in trying to understand the evolution of human mental abilities from the mental powers of our animal ancestors, we face "the impossibility of judging what passes through the mind of an animal" (Penguin ed., 105).

Over the past hundred years, we have had more systematic study of primate behavior and cognition than was done previously. And over the last forty years, we have seen some methodologically sophisticated studies of primates both in the wild and in captivity, and the captive studies have included controlled, and often ingenious, experimentation. But with all of this primate research, we still face the same problem: primate social reality is a construction of animal minds, and judging what passes through those minds is always speculative and uncertain.

Consider, for example, the many news reports this week--in the New York Times and elsewhere--of new experiments that appear to show chimpanzee generosity. Frans de Waal and his colleagues at Emory University claim to show "spontaneous prosocial choice by chimpanzees." Experiments by other groups suggest that chimpanzees are not very helpful to one another, although observations of chimpanzees in the wild suggest the opposite. De Waal has trained his chimpanzees at the Yerkes National Primate Research Center to exchange tokens for food. In this experiment, chimpanzees were paired up and placed in adjoining cages. One chimp could choose a token from a bucket, with tokens of two different colors. One color would exchange for food for oneself but not for the other chimp. The other color would exchange for food for oneself and for the other chimp. In a majority of cases, the chimp would choose the generous option.

Notice the odd features of this experiment. The participants were seven adult female chimps. We must wonder how much we can conclude from the behavior of seven individuals. We must also wonder why only females were tested, particularly since much of the seemingly cooperative behavior among chimps in the wild is male behavior--such as group hunting and warfare. We might question how much generosity we really see here. The report is that the generous tendency for each individual chimp ranged from 52.9% to 66.7%. That suggests that for some of these individuals the choice of tokens was almost random. And even those showing the more generous tendency are not bearing any costs in their generosity.

As indicated in the New York Times article, this research report has been criticized by Michael Tomasello, Co-Director of the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology in Leipzig, Germany. Anyone who follows this kind of research knows that Tomasello and de Waal have been on opposite sides of a debate for many years. Most recently, Tomasello and his colleagues have published a study in Nature arguing that "collaboration encourages equal sharing in children but not in chimpanzees." They show that children around the age of three show equitable distribution of resources with those engaged in collaborative activities, but chimps do not exhibit such equal sharing with collaborative partners. They offer this as evidence for a general theory of human evolution: the uniquely human propensity for social norms of fairness and equity arose among human ancestors who shared resources after collaborative foraging, and the ancient evolutionary propensity arises early in the development of children as an evolutionarily natural trait.

De Waal and Tomasello agree in general that human nature can be explained as a product of evolutionary primate history, so that human beings are similar to their closest living relatives--chimpanzees and bonobos--but also quite different in humanly unique ways. And yet de Waal and Tomasello disagree in their emphasis--de Waal emphasizing the similarities, Tomasello emphasizing the differences--a disagreement that runs through much of the primate research.

This disagreement was evident a few years ago when de Waal and his colleague Sarah Brosnan gained wide publicity for a report in 2003 entitled "Monkeys Reject Unequal Pay," which seemed to show that capuchin monkeys had a "sense of fairness." Having been trained to exchange tokens for food, the monkeys seemed to be engaged in economic exchange, which is why this kind of research has gained attention from economists. In an experiment to test for "inequity aversion," monkeys who offered a token for food would receive either a slice of cucumber or a grape, and the monkeys clearly favored the grape as more desirable. If one monkey got a slice of cucumber, while seeing that another monkey nearby got a grape, the monkey apparently protested against this, either by refusing to exhange the tokens or by throwing away the cucumber. It seemed as though the monkey was protesting "unequal pay."

But again we might wonder about some of the features of this research. The report was based on the behavior of only five females. Apparently, males had not shown "inequity aversion." We have to wonder then how far we can go in drawing general conclusions from this experiment.

Moreover, as some critics noticed, it was possible that the monkeys weren't showing "inequity aversion" but only frustrated expectations. If a monkey receives a cucumber slice, while noticing that grapes are available, she might feel frustration at not getting the more desirable food, but this would have nothing to do with "unequal pay." Other critics suggested that a monkey perceiving inequity in the distribution of food would want more cucumber slices, not less, to compensate for the inequity.

We might also ask whether these monkeys were really showing a sense of fairness. Even if we are persuaded that the monkey receiving the less favored food was showing indignation in protesting the inequity from the other monkey getting the more favored food, there is no evidence that the monkey getting the unfair advantage felt any guilt. If the monkeys receiving grapes were to throw away their grapes to show sympathy for those receiving only cucumbers, that would be a far more impressive display of a sense of justice.

A few years later, de Waal and Brosnan tried to answer some of these criticisms with new experiments using chimpanzees. They reported that chimps also showed inequity aversion, although chimps in close social relationships were more tolerant of inequity. And yet, once again, Tomasello and other critics pointed out weaknesses in this report. For example, of the 20 individuals studied, 14 refused inequitable exchanges in less than 2% of the trials, which is not very impressive.

Tomasello and his colleagues did a study of their own with 7 orangutans, 6 gorillas, 4 bonobos, and 13 chimpanzees in which the behavior seemed to show that there was no inequity aversion, and thus contradicting de Waal and Brosnan's research.

Some of the details in this debate are surveyed in an article by Kenneth Krause for eSkeptic.

As compared with what de Waal does, Tomasello's research is more interesting in that he performs similar experiments with chimpanzees and young children to see how and at what age the children surpass the chimpanzees. This allows him to argue that the early development of human children replicates human evolutionary history: we see the children starting out with chimpanzee-like abilities but then quickly moving to the uniquely human capabilities that arose early in human evolution. In this way, ontogeny might recapitulate phylogeny.

Some good videos of this research with both chimpanzees and children can be found here. There is also a good PBS Nova video on this and related research by Tomasello and others.

Tomasello's work is embedded within a general social theory of cooperation, which is well summarized in his book Why We Cooperate (MIT Press, 2009). One can see the influence on Tomasello of John Searle's The Construction of Social Reality (Free Press, 1995). Searle argues that we need to understand how social reality differs from physical reality, because social reality is a construction of the mind through the "collective intentionality" of "we consciousness" as opposed to the "I intentionality" of "I consciousness." In social life, we collaborate with one another as we create institutional practices in acting intentionally for shared goals. We thus create "institutional facts" that are just as real as "brute facts" or physical facts, although these institutional realities depend on the work of our minds, and they are not directly observable the way physical reality is directly observable. Tomasello picks up this idea in arguing that human beings are unique in their capacity for "shared intentionality," which allows human beings through their symbolic capacities to engage in cultural niche construction in ways that far surpass chimpanzees and other primates.

What Tomasello is doing is that he's exploring in experimental ways the evolutionary basis for what Aristotle and Aquinas saw--that we are similar to other social and political animals, and yet we are unique in our capacity to use our conceptual and linguistic abilities to create social worlds of shared intentionality that go beyond anything seen in the rest of the animal world.

Tomasello's comparative studies of chimpanzees and children follows in the tradition of Darwin, who methodically studied one of his infant children and compared the child with monkeys and apes to see when the child showed the moral sense that Darwin thought was uniquely human.

If you really want to probe into de Waal's mind, you'll have to go to the video of his interview on "The Colbert Report."

I will be writing more posts this month on the de Waal/Tomasello debate.

Some posts on related topics can be found herehere, here, here, here, and here.

REFERENCES
Brauer, Juliane, Josep Call, and Michael Tomasello, "Are Apes Really Inequity Averse?" Proceedings of the Royal Society B 273 (2006): 3123-3128.

Brosnan, Sarah F., and Frans de Waal, "Monkeys Reject Unequal Pay," Nature 425 (18 September 2003): 297-99.

Brosnan, Sarah F., Hillary C. Schiff, and Frans de Waal, "Tolerance for Inequity May Increase with Social Closeness in Chimpanzees," Proceedings of the Royal Society B, 272 (2005): 253-58.

Hamann, Katharina, Felix Warneken, Julia Greenberg, and Michael Tomasello, "Collaboration Encourages Equal Sharing in Children But Not in Chimpanzees," Nature, early online publication, July, 2011.

Horner, Victoria, J. Devyn Carter, Malini Suchak, and Frans de Waal, "Spontaneous Prosocial Choice by Chimpanzees," Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, early edition, August, 2011.

Wednesday, December 31, 2025

Monogamy, Polyamory, and the Primate Myth


That we can understand human nature by comparing ourselves with our closest living primate relatives--chimps and bonobos--has been a recurring theme in my blog posts over the years.  So it might seem that Jonathan Leaf's new book--The Primate Myth--is a powerful critique of my position, because Leaf argues that we cannot learn who we are by studying chimps and bonobos, assuming that the underlying patterns of their behavior are the same as ours, which is what Leaf calls the Primate Myth.  Even if we share some common genetic ancestry with primates--particularly, the great apes--we are radically different from apes, Leaf insists, in our genetic profile, in the configuration of our brains, in our anatomy, and in our social behavior.  To explain those differences, we need to see how our evolutionary adaptations for hunting and language made our earliest human ancestors less like apes and more like dolphins, dogs, rats, and elephants.  

Leaf stresses that human beings are unique in their extreme sociality--their social awareness and their capacity for social collaboration.  While primates are social animals, they are not as highly social as the animals that live in packs or herds.  Humans are more a herd or pack animal than a primate, because our earliest evolutionary ancestors depended on collaborative hunting in packs and herding together to repel predators.

Because of the Primate Myth, humans have been classified as belonging to the Order of Primates and the Family of Hominidae (humans and the other great apes--chimpanzees, bonobos, gorillas, and orangutans).  But if we recognized how radically different human beings are from primates, Leaf argues, we would classify humans as belonging to their own order (Homo), or at least in their own family, separated from the great apes (245).

Leaf is certainly right in saying that to understand human evolution, it is not sufficient to look for human similarities to those other primates with whom we share common descent, because we must also see how humans differ radically from those primates.  By convergent evolution our human ancestors evolved adaptations for filling an evolutionary niche--collaborative hunting--that made them more like the herd or pack animals than like the other primates with whom they shared genetic ancestry.

But Leaf is wrong in saying that most evolutionary scientists today deny this because they are so committed to the Primate Myth that humans are most like primates--particularly, chimps and bonobos--in their behavioral and psychological propensities and unlike all non-primate animals.  The Primate Myth is a straw man, because in attacking the Primate Myth, Leaf distorts what most evolutionary scientists say about human evolution to make it easier to refute.

In a few places in his book, Leaf comes close to admitting this.  One example is a passage about Frans de Waal, who is the primary villain in Leaf's book (38-40). Leaf says that many readers of de Waal's first book--Chimpanzee Politics--mistakenly assumed that he was saying "that humans were almost exactly the same as chimps." In fact, Leaf observes, de Waal in that book points to "a number of critical differences" between humans and chimps. And in his later writings, de Waal "emphasized the kinship that humans bear to an array of non-primate animals." "In other words, what de Waal was thought to be arguing in his first and most influential book and what he was actually proposing aren't the same."  But then Leaf devotes most of his book to attacking what he here recognizes to be a mistaken interpretation of de Waal--the belief that humans are almost the same as chimps and other primates.

I can imagine, however, that Leaf could respond by saying no, this is not a straw man, because I point to good examples of people assuming the Primate Myth in explaining human evolution.  The best example might be the argument of Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jetha in their popular bestseller Sex at Dawn: How We Mate, Why We Stray, and What It Means for Modern Relationships (2010).  Under the influence of the Primate Myth--"the idea that human behavior is very much like ape behavior"--they say that since chimps and bonobos are sexually promiscuous, with no enduring pair-bonding of sexual mates, that must mean that our earliest human ancestors were just as promiscuous, and therefore monogamous pair-bonding is contrary to our evolved human nature.  Human beings would be happier, Ryan and Jetha insist, if married couples were "polyamorous"--if they felt free to have extramarital sexual affairs without feeling shame or fearing that this must break up their marriage: couples can happily live together and rear their children together but sleep around without harming themselves or their children, because primate promiscuity is natural for human beings.  

Leaf devotes over eight pages of his book to explaining and refuting their argument (168-177).  He has also taken excerpts from this part of his book for an article on "The Polyamory Delusion" for National Review that will be the cover story for the February 2026 issue.  His preoccupation with Sex at Dawn makes me think that his reading of this book some fifteen years ago was what originally motivated him to write The Primate Myth to counter the harmful consequences of teaching people that imitating the behavior of chimps and bonobos would make them happy.

Leaf is correct in criticizing Ryan and Jetha for their refusing to see that ape sexuality is different from human sexuality, because in contrast to ape promiscuity, the evolutionary function of human sexuality is to strengthen monogamous pair-bonds and the biparental care of children.  He is mistaken, however, in his claim that evolutionary biologists agree with Ryan and Jetha in their primate model of human sexuality as naturally inclined to polyamorous promiscuity.  The Primate Myth embraced by Ryan and Jetha is a fringe position that is outside the mainstream thinking of most evolutionary scientists, and that's why I say the Primate Myth is a straw man.

Previously, I have written about how the evolution of monogamous pair-bonding among our prehistoric foraging ancestors gave birth to the unique structure of human society that sets it apart from the social life of chimps and bonobos as based on sexual promiscuity in mating and reproduction.  Even in cultures that allow polygamy, most people are in monogamous marriages.  And there is plenty of evidence that polygamous marriages tend to be full of conflict: the cowives fight amongst themselves, men fight with one another over access to women, and children often suffer from parental neglect.

It is true, of course, that even in societies where monogamy is the norm, there is sexual promiscuity that can create some uncertainty about paternity.  But remarkably, recent research shows that the rate of "extra pair paternity"--where a woman bears offspring from a man other than her spouse--is usually below 3 percent (Larmuseau et al. 2013, 2019; Zimmer 2016).  By contrast, extra-pair fertilization in socially monogamous bird species can range as high as 20 percent (Brouwer and Griffith 2019; Griffith et al. 2002).

Leaf cites this kind of evidence as showing that while promiscuity is a problem for human beings, it is not as pervasive as it is for primates because human beings have an evolved natural desire for monogamous pair-bonding.  Leaf rightly concludes that this refutes Ryan and Jetha's primate model of human sexuality as naturally inclined to polyamorous promiscuity rather than sexual monogamy.

But Leaf is wrong when he says that evolutionary biologists agree with Ryan and Jetha (Leaf 2025, 171, 173).  In fact, Ryan and Jetha repeatedly insist that they are attacking the "standard narrative of human sexual evolution" that upholds monogamous pair-bonding as crucial for human evolution (Ryan and Jetha 2010, 7-8, 11, 25, 34-35, 38-39, 46-60, 99, 137, 142, 149, 223, 266, 300).  Leaf is silent about this.

For example, Ryan and Jetha criticize Frans de Waal for embracing the "standard narrative."  They quote various remarks by de Waal as illustrating the "standard narrative" of human sexual monogamy that they reject.  De Waal argued that the nuclear family is "intrinsically human," and the pair-bond is "the key to the incredible level of cooperation that marks our species," because "our success as a species is intimately tied to the abandonment of the bonobo lifestyle and to a tighter control over sexual expressions." He observed: "The intimate male-female relationship . . . which zoologists have dubbed a 'pair bond,' is bred into our bones.  I believe this is what sets us apart from the apes more than anything else."   He also said: "Both chimps and bonobos are far more promiscuous than we are. Our testicles reflect this: they are mere peanuts compared to our ape relatives' coconuts" (de Waal 2005, 108, 113, 124-25; Ryan and Jetha 2010, 76, 115, 225).

Leaf does not allow his readers to see this.  Because if his readers saw that the Primate Myth as embraced by Ryan and Jetha is rejected by de Waal and most other evolutionary scientists, they would see that when Leaf attacks the Primate Myth, he is attacking a straw man.


REFERENCES

Brouwer, Lyanne, and Simon Griffith. 2019. "Extra-Pair Paternity in Birds." Molecular Ecology. 28: 4864-4882.

de Waal, Frans. 2005. Our Inner Ape: A Leading Primatologist Explains Why We Are Who We Are. New York: Riverhead Books.

Griffith, Simon, Ian Owens, and Katherine Thuman. 2002. "Extra Pair Paternity in Birds: A Review of Interspecific Variation and Adaptive Function. Molecular Ecology 11: 2195-2212.

Larmuseau, M. H. D., et al. 2013. "Low Historical Rates of Cuckoldry in a Western European Human Population Traced by Y-chromosome and Genealogical Data." Proceedings of the Royal Society B. 280:20132400.

Leaf, Jonathan. 2025. The Primate Myth: Why the Latest Science Leads Us to a New Theory of Human Nature. New York: Bombardier Books.

Ryan, Christopher, and Cacilda Jetha. 2010. Sex at Dawn: How We Mate, Why We Stray, and What It Means for Modern Relationships. New York: Harper.

Zimmer, Carl. 2013. "Monogamy and Human Evolution." New York Times, August 2.

Zimmer, Carl. 2016. "Fathered by the Mailman? It's Mostly an Urban Legend." New York Times, April 8.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Bonobos--The Politically Correct Primate

Although bonobos resemble chimpanzees, bonobos are now considered a separate species. They have passed into popular culture as the "hippie chimps." They are sexual swingers who shift easily from heterosexual to homosexual activity. They resolve conflict through sexual pleasure rather than aggressive violence--make love not war! Although bonobo males are bigger and stronger than bonobo females, the females seem to be dominant over the males, which seemed to be enforced by females bound together by lesbian sex attacking any male who becomes too assertive. And while chimps have shown what looks like warfare between distinct territorial groups, bonobo groups seem to mix easily without warfare. So while bonobos would appear to be political animals in the sense that they must manueuver their way through a complex social community, bonobo politics would seem to be more peaceful, egalitarian, and matriarchal than is chimp politics.

But all of this is based on remarkably skimpy observational evidence. Wild chimpanzees are found only in the dense tropical jungle south of the Congo River in the Democratic Republic of Congo. The few primatologists who have tried to study them in the wild have found them so hard to track that some observers have seen them for only a few hours after years of seeking them out. Most of the popular picture of bonobo behavior comes from Frans de Waal, who has seen bonobos in zoos, but who has never seen a bonobo in the wild.

I have regularly taught a course at Northern Illinois University on "Chimpanzee Politics," which includes some reading on bonobos. Each time I teach this course, I take my students on a field trip to the Milwaukee County Zoo, which has the largest group of bonobos in captivity (18-20 individuals). Each time that we go, I am struck by how we don't see the behavior that we have read about in de Waal's books (particularly, the 1997 book Bonobo: The Forgotten Ape). For example, we go there with the voyeur's expectation of seeing lots of sexy encounters, but we're usually disappointed. This experience as well as my reading of the primatology research comparing chimps and bonobos has made me skeptical of de Waal's story of bonobo life and the popular acceptance of this story as showing the potential for confirming Rousseau's image of the noble savage.

In the July 30th issue of The New Yorker, Ian Parker has an article on bonobo research. He surveys the debate among primatologists over de Waal's claim that bonobos are radically different from chimps. One can see here the moral and political implications of these debates. Feminists, gay activists, and those on the political Left would like to see bonobos as the closest living evolutionary relative of human beings, and they like de Waal's account of bonobo life as suggesting that human beings could potentially adopt the "bonobo way" of sexual equality and peaceful hedonism. Darwinian conservatives are suspicious of this as motivated by utopian longings.

As Parker indicates, the direct observations of bonobos in the wild are leading some primatologists to question de Waal's account. Bonobos are probably more violent than de Waal is willing to admit. They are not more bipedal than chimps. They are not more sexually active than chimps. And whether bonobos show female dominance--in contrast to the male dominance of chimps--is open to doubt. Even in de Waal's Bonobo book, there are some occasional suggestions that bonobo males are "slightly dominant" or maybe "co-dominant" with females (60, 74-81).