Instinct

Gradually surmising that death was permanent only for lower creatures, we began burying our loved ones with provisions to go on. As soon as we developed civilizations, our status was proclaimed by magnificent temples boldly climbing to eternity. Skepticism has always existed and details have never been fully agreed on, but faith is not born of consensus, it comes from within. You look at critters and either know that you're one of 'em, or you're not. Most of us are not.

Our world 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 these primitive vestiges, we don't generally acknowledge them. We assign instincts to lower animals and call ours "human nature" but it's all the same. Their origins are obvious. When inborn urges result in a higher number of surviving offspring, those urges spread as they get passed down, eventually becoming universal.

Males and females have differing parental duties and capacities, so differing instincts develop. In "group" species, groups compete and members acquire a mix of "individual success" and "group success" urges. Most of our past was spent in small groups or clans so our instincts have this added complexity. We also have intelligence which can override these usually hidden urges.

There is nothing hidden about our mating instincts with their compulsive nuzzling and 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 viable enemies for many thousands of years, our reproductive struggle has been against each other and 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 use came with them. These particular instincts often consume 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 keeps us all from heading toward the front of the line. Our adolescent years are often traumatic as we discover what our positions will be. A group advantage, hierarchy allowed us to be led and afforded a peaceful division of labor. Individually, high status increased offspring and thus became instinctive goal. Like reproductive instincts, social hierarchy and a drive for status are a huge part of who we are. As with wealth or power, high status can be passed down so nagging urges to excel in these areas will torment us well beyond our reproductive years - and keep us elbowing ahead in this uniquely human endeavor called progress.

We've existed without successful enemies for a long time - long enough that we've had to become our own. Covering a limited 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 young warriors so the reasons for our fanatic interest in physical contests are long forgotten, but we still 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. For group survival, 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 to convince those males and we are all in on the fateful ruse. Our penchant for waving banners and worshipping sporting heroes seems relatively harmless but those oblivious 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, those millenniums of accumulated instinct 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. As 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 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 shields us from the uncomfortable closeness of nature but it has also 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 overly 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 send them out in the modern world with no mention of their programmed instructions - then we fall on the ground and curse our Gods when they promptly impale themselves.

The end is disturbingly senseless for these 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. Able to see beyond the "here and now", our vision is focused elsewhere when younger eyes widen in terror and perfect breathing pieces of our immortality struggle for their final breath, and perhaps somewhere 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 look into your eyes 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 are slowly snuffed out. Of all the logic born of arrogance, the belief that we are 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 unnatural but efficient 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 religious beliefs offering paradise for their emissaries spread hope to the downtrodden, but are inherently expansive and quarrelsome. Plans forcing wealth to be shared are adopted, and promptly become inert and suffocating. These beliefs add righteousness and passion to our dangerous blood feuds and our 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 amid the pageantry and 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 archaic 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?

***