Introduction
One of the main topic brought up in The Elephant in the Brain is the concept of Competitive Altruism.
Despite its brief mention, I am fascinated by this idea. Its similarities to human behaviors are hard to ignore.
Let’s explore it a bit.
The main idea behind competitive altruism is that animals are not driven solely by selfishness. They also want to enhance their social standings by being perceived as generous within a community.
Dominance Hierarchies
The Arabian Babbler, a bird species native to the Arabian Peninsula, serves as a compelling example of a rigid dominance hierarchy. The authors vividly depict these birds, each male or female constantly vying with its immediate neighbor in minor skirmishes to establish and maintain their social order.
These are not unique traits of babblers. They mirror human behavior in many ways.
You rarely want to face people much higher in rank than you are. If you are a bottom-of-the-pyramid employee in a company, you don’t want to argue with the CEO. You probably aren’t even able to get closer to her. And even if you do, you are pretty likely to agree to anything she says.
Obviously, with humans, such hierarchy is not always clear. But, it feels like that, at any time, you have a competitor. And, given the circumstances, you decide whether you are higher or lower rank than he is.
If you get in a car accident, a primitive instinct could be to get out of your car as angry as you can to start a fight. When you get out of the car, you might see a handsome two-meter-tall man. In this case, you are less likely to start arguing with him as you become aware that if he wants to hit you, you are pretty likely to get beaten.
This is as if, in that exact instant, all humans in the world got labeled with a number denoting one’s ability to beat up others. Numbers don’t have to be precise. But you clearly understand that the man you are facing is higher ranked than you are. And this is enough to let it go.
Apparent Altruism
Despite the rigid hierarchy, babblers also exhibit altruistic behaviors. These acts include sharing food, protecting each other from predators, and acting as lookout guards.
Humans behave the same way. If you live in a family or a community, you are likely to share whatever you have.
The question is, why do babblers and humans behave this way?
First, somehow, I still believe that humans are capable of genuine altruism. The act of giving without having anything in return may still exist in some cases. But this doesn’t negate the fact that many times, even generous acts are done with a second end in mind.
Some examples could be giving information to a colleague only because your manager hears what you are saying or giving alms to a homeless person only because people are watching you.
Talking about babblers, the term used in the book is prestige status. To keep this brief, the higher the prestige status, the more likely the mating opportunities and the less likely the chances of being evicted by the group.
While human life is undeniably more complex than that of animals, the parallels drawn between the two in terms of social dynamics are fascinating, sparking curiosity and further exploration.
Even the use of the term prestige status tells a lot.
If you are perceived as a high-profile individual, you are quite likely to be respected by your close colleagues in the hierarchy. If you work in a team, you might be well respected because you have resolved some critical issues in the past. This prestige you have accrued lays in your favor.
This sounds like a video game in which you have life points. The more life points you get, the harder it is for others to get rid of you.
Conclusion
I wrote a lot more than I originally planned to do. I don’t want to leave by saying that I found the Holy Grail of human behavior. But it’s quite nice to read the babbler example and feel the discomfort of something familiar.