Blog Archives

Do Animals Grieve ?

Posted on November 2, 2009
by

I saw this picture on a blog that I follow, ICCI (International Cognition and Culture Institute). The picture is riveting. We don’t expect to see chimps line up to pay homage to a much loved chimp as it is being wheeled to its burial. What rivets us in part is how human this picture is.

This is not the first documented evidence of chimps grieving. Jane Goodall wrote this moving piece in Through A Window, about a chimp grieving the death of his mother:

“Never shall I forget watching as, three days after Flo’s death, Flint climbed slowly into a tall tree near the stream. He walked along the branches, then stopped and stopped motionless, staring down at an empty nest. After about two minutes he turned away and, with the movement of an old man, climbed down, walked a few steps, then lay, wide eyes staring ahead. The nest was one which he and Flo had shared a short while before Flo died…In the presence of his big brother Figan, Flint had seemed to shake off a little of his depression. But then he suddenly left the group and raced back to the place where Flo had died and there sank into ever deeper depression…Flint became increasingly lethargic, refused food and, with his immune system thus weakened, fell sick. The last time I saw him alive, he was hollow-eyed, gaunt and utterly depressed, huddled in the vegetation close to where Flo had died…The last short journey he made, pausing to rest every few feet, was to the very place Flo’s body had lain. There he stayed for several hours, sometimes staring and staring into the water. He struggled on a little further, then curled up–and never moved again.”

Elephants are also animals with a well known mourning ritual. The blog reports that even magpies have been known to mark the death of one of theirs.

It is hard to know why the animals are doing what they’re doing in the picture above. Are they lined up to view what maybe a novel situation i.e. one in which a chimp is wheeled away when dead as opposed to what happens in the real world ? Remember what Marc Hauser said about how hard it is for us to decipher what is going on inside an animal’s head.

The picture was taken by Monica Szczupider and first reported in National Geographic Magazine.

Powered by ScribeFire.

Leave a Reply ?

Robert Sapolsky

Posted on July 27, 2009
by

I was thirteen when I sank my teeth into my first science book, George Gamow’s classic, “One, Two Three,…Infinity”. A friend of my father, taking pity on my Erich Von Daniken collection, loaned the book to me. “Read real science, Dinesh”, he said. “Why ? What is wrong with what Daniken says ?”, I bristled. I had just discovered godlessness and thought that he wanted to brainwash me back into godliness. I picked up Gamow with some skepticism. Though a little hard to follow, the writing grabbed me like a thriller. Soon, I was poring over Isaac Asimov’s non-fiction works. His book “The Collapsing Universe” made a lasting impression. Black holes and big bang and universes that collapsed only to be reborn again! Far more fascinating than those mythologies I was raised with, I thought, because the wonder was of the real kind, not the believing kind.

Till I turned 22, my existence was defined by the limits imposed by small provincial towns of the 70′s and 80′s India, towns that my father found himself transfered to. One such constraint was the complete lack of a decent bookstore. Pulp fiction for adults and some Enid Blyton for kids marked the boundaries of literacy. Once I graduated past Enid Blyton, I found nothing to bridge the chasm between her and James Hadley Chase. And forget about non-fiction works. In those backwaters, I couldn’t even create a list of books that I wanted to read! The public libraries in most of these towns was filled with “classics”, rows upon empty, dusty rows of books that hardly interested the general populace. Any denizens were usually older people finding ways to kill time or maybe some college students looking for textbooks to borrow or reference. Only when we went to Bangalore could I attempt to quench this hunger for books. Gangaram’s Book Bureau, located conveniently on Bangalore’s main thoroughfare, M.G. Road, became a favorite haunt. Once inside, I found myself so half-crazed from this hunger for books that the rows and rows of books only made me dizzy. Like a starving man who finds himself in front of a sumptuous buffet, I ran from row to row. Which one to pick, which one to reject. So many to read, so little money to buy, so little time to decide. The experience was simultaneously intensely exciting and painful.

Carl Sagan’s “Cosmos” and “Dragons of Eden”, Bertrand Russell’s “ABC of Relativity”, Gary Zukav’s “The Dancing Wu-Li Masters” and Fritjof Capra’s “Tao of Physics” are the science books that I most remember from those days. Physics and cosmology were worthy of reading as I moved swiftly past the biology titles.

As I grew older, I moved away from these works into reading more about history and politics. My political awakening came rather late in my life, well past my thirties. The lack of political discussions in my house (The emergency Indira Gandhi declared unconstitutionally barely got mentioned) probably contributed to this singular lack of interest in politics. As I grew older still, my interest swung back to science, but this time to biological sciences such as evolution and cognitive science, how we became who we are and what keeps us here. Melvin Konner’s classic work, “The Tangled Wing: Biological Constraints on the Human Spirit” got me started down this current road.

In this realm, I encountered several lucid expositors. Carl Zimmer, Matt Ridley, V.S. Ramachandran, Michael Ruse and Daniel Gilbert easily come to mind. To read just about anything written by these folks, I consider a worthy use of my time. Robert Sapolsky is the most recent addition to this pantheon. I had heard of Sapolsky’s work “Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers” while helping prepare the coursework for the course at Stanford University taught by the non-profit organization I volunteer with, Magic. Being all the rage at the time, I never managed to get a copy from the local public library. A couple of years went by and a month or so ago, looking for some other book, I ran into Sapolsky’s “Monkeyluv and Other Essays On Our Lives As Animals”. Right from the start, the book reached out and grabbed me. Wonderfully witty writing, lucid explanations of complex subjects and a wonderful choice of subjects made him delectably unputdownable. While we stayed at our friend’s place for a month, I ran into his other book, “The Trouble With Testosterone” which only solidified his reputation with me. Writing such as his, makes me envious, makes me want to stop writing in disgust. What’s the point of writing when you have such talented people, I ask myself sometimes.

Here are some samples of his writing:

“As a scientist doing scads of important research, I am busy, very busy. What with all those midnight experiments in the lab, all that eureka-ing, I hardly have time to read the journals. Nonetheless, I stopped everything to thorougly study the May 10, 1999 issue of People magazine, the double special issue, “The 50 Most Beautiful People in the World”. It was fabulous. In addition to full-color spreads and helpful grooming tips, the editors of People have gone after one of the central, pressing issues of our time. “Nature or Nurture ?”

“As most newlyweds quickly learn, intimate relationships, even the most blissful, can buzz with tension. Couples typically find themselves struggling over money, in-laws, ex-lovers, and how much the woman’s placenta should grow when she is eventually pregnant. That last one’s a killer.”

“We all have encountered Reinhold Neibuhr’s serenity prayer at some point: ‘God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference’. Behavioral biology is often the scientific pursuit of that prayer.”

Each essay starts with some mundane observation and then dives deeper to reveal some brilliant nugget of biological research.

In all of biology, evolution and instinct are top dog these days, taking over years of rule by behaviorism. A lot of science is reductionism, the attempt to understand large, complex systems by breaking them down into smaller, more understandable subcomponents. The attempt to define all physical laws using quantum mechanics is one example of such a method. In biology, sequencing the human genome is considered by many scientific and lay people to be the key to understanding human behavior. “Gene for happiness” found, reads one headline while another proclaims, “The God Gene found”. We’re nothing more than the sum of our genes. If a cause has a strong genetic component, there is squat the environment can do, so the proclamation goes. In both “Monkeyluv” and “The Trouble with Testosterone”, Sapolsky eviscerates this mania and style of thinking (The New Scientist had a similar article about taking a more nuanced approach to Dawkins’ Selfish Gene and Extended Phenotype metaphors).

“One of the most important concepts in all of biology is that you can’t really ever state what the effect is of a particular gene, or what the effect is of a particular environment. You can only consider how a particular gene and a particular environment interact. Gene/environment interactions are so important that you can’t be taught the biologist secret handshake until you use the phrase in conversation at least once a day”, he writes in Monkeyluv, in the introduction to one of the three threads than runs through the book. The second important thread that the book deals with is the “intertwining of our brains and bodies, their mutual capcity to regulate each other”. The final subject addressed in the book is the intertwining effects of biology and culture on each other. Meaty subjects, but dispatched with wit, erudition and lucidity.

“The Trouble With Testosterone” is a collection of 17 essays on “the biology of the human predicament” dealing with some aspect or the other of human behavior and the roots of such behavior in the animal kingdom. Some of the essays such as “Beelzebub’s SAT Score” and “The Dangers of Fallen Souffles in the Developing World” are more cultural and political than they are biological and except for Beelzebub, I found every one of the essays eye opening at some level.

Sapolsky teaches at Stanford University and is an active researcher unlike many other science popularizers. He continues to publish scientific papers while writing remarkably erudite works for laypeople. Talking about his writing style, he says that he never took a course in writing. He says that he honed his writing skills in Africa where he spent countless months of lonely existence studying the life of baboons. To counter the loneliness, he took to writing letters to his friends, family and colleagues back home, explaining the discoveries of the day. Writing the same thing, over and over again, helped him to whittle down the inessential and find ways to write the same thing differently each time. He commutes from San Francisco every day via public transport which takes up two hours of his day. He uses this time to spend writing, a time that is protected, regular and accessible.

I can’t recommend his books enough.

Leave a Reply ?

Frenetic Existence

Posted on July 20, 2009
by
Wednesday, July 15.

Went to bed early last night, woke up early this morning, had a half hour of solitude before Maya woke up. fed her and put a new diaper when she woke up and she fell asleep immediately, had an undisturbed shower and shave, checked email and got the first meeting canceled as the agenda was not clear. Maya woke up for good. She was in great spirits as she was not hungry and had a good full 10 hours of sleep. This is going to be a beautiful day, I thought to myself. And then the wheels started coming off.

When we had moved to our friend’s house in Palo Alto, I offered Ginez a choice: to either come at 8:30 so that I could catch a bus to the train station or to come at 8:45 so that she could drop me at the station. She preferred to drop me off at the station as it gave her fifteen more minutes of sleep.

8:38. Ginez called to say that she was stuck in traffic. A car was on fire on the freeway and after getting off the highway, the internal expressway was also a giant parking lot. She was at least 15 minutes away. This set off a domino in my head. 15 minutes late meant that I’d probably not get to the train station on time which meant that I’d miss the company shuttle to work which meant taking the light rail. Taking the light rail meant changing trains to reach my office, which meant that I maybe at work only by 10:15 or so instead of 9:30. Was I glad that I had canceled my meeting at 9:30 ? Nay. I was a little anxious that I’d be late.

8:42: I called Ginez to ask her where she was. She had come up to Middlefield Road and said she’d take that exit to come home. I asked her to hurry.

8:47 I was getting a little nervous. I had no meeting till at least 11. Why was I in a tizzy ? I diapered Maya, picked up my backpack and went outside to wait for Ginez.

8:50. I called Ginez again. She was at Alma and Churchill. She said even these residential roads were choked. She asked if I could come to the corner of El Camino and Park Ave to make up for the lost time. I said yes and started hurriedly walking with Maya in my arms.

8:55 Got to the corner of El Camino and Park. No Ginez. Called her again. She said that she was getting onto El Camino and that she’d be there in a minute or so.

8:57 Ginez is at the light, waiting for the U turn. With no traffic on my side of the road, I hurry across the road, strap Maya in and get inside. Ginez is apologetic, saying that she starts early enough to avoid traffic delays, but that today was really bad. I tell her not to worry, that if I miss the train, I miss it, that it is not the end of the world.

8:58 The light changes and we hurry to Palo Alto Caltrain station. I’m quite confident now that I’ll miss the train. We’ve only 3 minutes left. I imagine jumping into the waiting train just as the door are about to close, without validating my ticket. What will I tell the conductor if they ask for tickets, I wonder.

9:02 As we pull into the station, I see the train on the platform with the doors shut. I think, OK, I’ve missed it. As I get out, I realize that it’s the northbound train. I leap for joy. I can still catch my train. I see the southbound train pulling in. I leap out, wish Ginez a good day, don’t even kiss Maya goodbye and start running. Time enough to validate the ticket, I think.

9:03 I get into the train along with a horde of others. I hear an announcement that the train will not stop till Santa Clara. I’m surprised, then relieved that maybe this is the earlier train. I get out along with others, some looking confused as they check their watches. I hurry up to the conductor, who doesn’t even look at me as he says “The Mountain View train is right behind”. I guess a lot of folks have already asked him the question.

9:05 I call Ginez and tell her that the trains are all delayed, that the commute is messed up everywhere today. I wonder if the company shuttle will wait for me as I pace the platform. I call a friend in India to say hello. They’re watching a thriller. I hang up. I notice that the northbound train hasn’t yet moved. I look down the tracks and see another train, up ahead, stopped. Stuck due to engine trouble, I think. I pity the northbound commuters.

9:10 No sign of the train that is “right behind”. People start pulling out their cell phones and start rescheduling their day.

9:20 A southbound train pulls in. I get in and seat myself. I hear an announcement that this train will stop at all stations between here and San Jose. I’m surprised. What train is this, I wonder. I hope that the company shuttle is still waiting for me. That the driver would’ve noticed the previous train zip by without stopping and realized that he had to wait some more. I hope their policy is to wait for the train, and not give up within a few minutes or so and depart.

9:30 I arrive at Mountain View station, am glad to see the company shuttle still waiting. Rush to it, get in, greet the driver and settle down, happy that I’ll be at work before 10.

Why did I have to rush about like a headless chicken, when I knew that I had no meeting till 11 ? Habit ? Just the pace of modern life ? My own personality ? As I was doing this mindless jiggle, a part of me was observing me doing it and telling me, rather gently, that I had no reason to act this way. But the part that seemed in control, went about anyway.

A growing chorus of voice say that modern psychology is looking for the problem in the wrong place or in the wrong person. They evince that psychology asks people to learn to cope with the existing system rather than realizing that the existing system is broken and that is the reason so many people need psychological help. It is a continuation of the Western philosophy that elevates the individual and free will above that of the society that the individual is a part of.

The modern world is in a sense, a world gone mad. When the founding fathers of the US spoke of everyone’s right to “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness”, I think they emphasized happiness, not the pursuit. But pursuit is what we’ve decided we’re after, happiness be damned. Why do we indulge in such behavior ? It is as cliche as cliche can be that many on their deathbed say, “I wish I had spent more time with my family”. We watch movies such as the brilliant American Beauty and Revolutionary Road, but never succeed to apply the lessons to our life. The Revolutionary Road is as good a movie about the madness of the American Dream as any I’ve seen. Despite a chance to get out of the humdrum of existence, an existence so boring that it kills all joy, the male protagonist allows himself to be sucked back into the rat race with devastating consequences. As I watched the movie, I recognized that given the right circumstances, I could be that character played so well by Leonardo di Caprio (and Kate Winslet deserved an Oscar for her performance in this movie, not The Reader). Yes, we’ve somewhat out of the rat race today, having opted to work part time, for less money and to stay at home caring for Maya. But still in experiences like the one that started off this entry, I betray the deeply ingrained habit.

As I was sitting in the train, my mind also went back to a book that I had recently read, Alan Lightman’s “The Diagnosis”. Not highly recommended, but the initial chapter was a riveting description of the madness that is modern life. A man on his way to work on a beautiful summer morning loses his memory. His memory returns a few days later, but his entire body starts to go numb. He is sucked into the medical establishment with its plethora of tests to determine the cause of his numbness. A scene in the waiting room at his doctor’s room, I also consider brilliant. Almost the entire first chapter is available online at Random House’s website.

Why do we do this ? The reasons are probably many and complex. But one factor that I had not considered occurred to me when I ran across an interesting article over at Mind Hacks, another neuroscience blog that I track every now and then. The article talks about a recent experiment concerning the reward circuit in our brains. Dopamine is a neurotransmitter that is commonly associated with pleasure, and with reward. We’re animals seeking rewarding activities. Unlike the popular myth however, researchers are finding that as much dopamine is released on the expectation of a reward as on a real reward. The article described an experiment conducted on people involved in a gambling game. The study found that near misses (you almost hit jackpot) released about as much dopamine as real wins, but the overall experience was awful. In other words, dopamine was released even when the outcome was not pleasurable.

All this is fine, you say. What has this got to do with why we pursue modern life despite knowledge of its ills ? Let me quote directly from the article:

Interestingly, although near-misses were experienced as aversive they increased the desire to play the game but only when the person had some perception of control, by choosing what the ‘lucky’ picture would be.

Of course, like choosing ‘heads or tails’, it’s only an illusion of control because the outcome is random anyway.

But because of reward expectancy the dopamine system is most active when we think we can control the outcome and modify our strategy next time, even if that sense of control is completely false.

In other words, we run the treadmill because we think we can change the outcome. Something special, something unique about us, our situation, our spouses, our children, our work that will change the typical outcome .

In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day. – W.H Auden

[ 2 Replies ]

Asperatus: A New Cloud

Posted on June 12, 2009
by

It was a gray morning as I set out to work today. The whole week has been like that, gray and cloud covered till the sun finally burns the cloud cover by afternoon. It is great weather to go running with Maya. No sunscreen, no shades. She can enjoy the scenery unhindered by the shades. But this gray weather in summer is a little gloomy. The temperatures have hovered in the low sixties to low seventies too. As I stared at the clouds and surfed the web as the company shuttle made its way to the campus, I was drawn to an article titled “Iowa woman’s photo sparks push for new cloud type”. It was accompanied by a beautiful photograph of rather unusual looking clouds.

Jane Wiggins had stood by her office window watching these clouds form. An amateur photographer, she snapped this picture. She said, “It looked like Armageddon. The shadows of the clouds, the lights and the darks, and the greenish-yellow backdrop. They seemed to change.”

No new cloud type has been discovered since 1951. Searching for a better picture than the one in the AP review, I ran across a forum that carried some impressive looking cloud photos. One of the posts also carried a good description of cloud types. A poster called hypewaders wrote: “The basic cloud forms have been defined for centuries, and these are some common characterizations: flat, lumpy, rainy, lumpy-rainy, curly, and high. To standardize (and sound more impressive) it’s common to use latin words for these descriptors: Stratus, cumulus, nimbus, cumulonimbus, cirrus, and alto, respectively. There are various compound words made up of these descriptors, like “cumulonimbus” (lumpy raining cloud) for example. Some less common cloud types haven’t ever gotten latin names- for example, roll clouds, which are tubular indicators of rather violent rotors.”

On that forum, I also read about an unusual, annual cloud formation called Morning Glory in a remote corner of Australia thata attracts glider pilots for the unbeatable gliding experience that it provides. Here is a picture of Morning Glory from the Wikipedia and a story to go with it on Cloud Appreciation Society’s webpage.

Reading all this made my morning commute so much more intense. The gray clouds no longer looked gray and dull and undifferentiated. The shades of white that peppered the clouds of gray, the muted colors of the marsh by Baylands Park added beauty to what was otherwise a mundane weekday commute.

Leave a Reply ?