Alternatively, he may be overcome by fear,
his shoulders will droop, his stomach
will turn, his legs will give way, and ‘Mama! A lion! Help!’ Sometimes the
probabilities match so evenly that it is hard to decide. This too will manifest itself
as a feeling. The baboon will feel confused and indecisive. ‘Yes . . . No . . . Yes .
. . No . . . Damn! I don’t know what to do!’
In order to transmit genes to the next generation, it is not enough to solve
survival problems. Animals also need to solve reproduction problems too, and
this depends on calculating probabilities. Natural selection evolved passion and
disgust as quick algorithms for evaluating reproduction odds. Beauty means
‘good chances for having successful offspring’. When a woman sees a man and
thinks, ‘Wow! He is gorgeous!’ and when a peahen sees a peacock and thinks,
‘Jesus! What a tail!’ they are doing something similar
to the automatic vending
machine. As light reflected from the male’s body hits their retinas, extremely
powerful algorithms honed by millions of years of evolution kick in. Within a few
milliseconds the algorithms convert tiny cues in the male’s external appearance
into reproduction probabilities, and reach the conclusion: ‘In all likelihood, this is
a very healthy and fertile male, with excellent genes. If I mate with him, my
offspring are also likely to enjoy good health and excellent genes.’ Of course,
this conclusion is not spelled out in words or numbers, but
in the fiery itch of
sexual attraction. Peahens, and most women, don’t make such calculations with
pen and paper. They just feel them.
Even Nobel laureates in economics make only a tiny fraction of their decisions
using pen, paper and calculator; 99 per cent of our decisions – including the
most important life choices concerning spouses, careers and habitats – are
made by the highly refined algorithms we call sensations, emotions and
desires.
18
Because these algorithms control the lives of all mammals and birds (and
probably some reptiles and even fish), when humans, baboons and pigs feel
fear, similar neurological processes take place in similar brain areas. It is
therefore
likely that frightened humans, frightened baboons and frightened pigs
have similar experiences.
19
There are differences too, of course. Pigs don’t seem to experience the
extremes of compassion and cruelty that characterise
Homo sapiens, nor the
sense of wonder that overwhelms a human gazing up at the infinitude of a starry
sky. It is likely that there are also opposite examples, of swinish emotions
unfamiliar to humans, but I cannot name any, for obvious reasons. However,
one core emotion is apparently shared by all mammals: the mother–infant bond.
Indeed, it gives mammals their name. The word ‘mammal’
comes from the Latin
mamma, meaning breast. Mammal mothers love their offspring so much that
they allow them to suckle from their body. Mammal youngsters, on their side,
feel an overwhelming desire to bond with their mothers and stay near them. In
the wild, piglets, calves and puppies that fail to bond with their mothers rarely
survive for long. Until recently that was true of human children too. Conversely, a
sow, cow or bitch that due to some rare mutation does not care about her young
may live a long and comfortable life, but her genes will not pass to the next
generation. The same logic is true among giraffes, bats, whales and porcupines.
We can argue about other emotions, but since
mammal youngsters cannot
survive without motherly care, it is evident that motherly love and a strong
mother–infant bond characterise all mammals.
20
A peacock and a man. When you look at these images, data on proportions, colours and sizes gets
processed by your biochemical algorithms, causing you to feel attraction, repulsion or indifference.
Left: © Bergserg/Shutterstock.com. Right: © s_bukley/Shutterstock.com.
It took scientists many years to acknowledge this. Not long ago psychologists
doubted the importance of the emotional bond between parents and children
even among humans. In the first half of the twentieth century, and despite the
influence
of Freudian theories, the dominant behaviourist school argued that
relations between parents and children were shaped by material feedback; that
children needed mainly food, shelter and medical care; and that children bonded
with their parents simply because the latter provide these material needs.
Children who demanded warmth, hugs and kisses were thought to be ‘spoiled’.
Childcare experts warned that children who were hugged and kissed by their
parents would grow up to be needy, egotistical and insecure adults.
21
John Watson, a leading childcare authority in the 1920s, sternly advised
parents, ‘Never hug and kiss [your children], never let them sit in your lap. If you
must, kiss them once on the forehead when they say goodnight. Shake hands
with them in the morning.’
22
The
popular magazine Infant Care explained that
the secret of raising children is to maintain discipline and to provide the
children’s material needs according to a strict daily schedule. A 1929 article
instructed parents that if an infant cries out for food before the normal feeding
time, ‘Do not hold him, nor rock him to stop his crying, and do not nurse him until
the exact hour for the feeding comes. It will not hurt the baby, even the tiny baby,
to cry.’
23
Only in the 1950s and 1960s did a growing consensus of experts abandon
these strict behaviourist theories and acknowledge the central importance of
emotional needs. In a series of famous (and shockingly cruel)
experiments, the
psychologist Harry Harlow separated infant monkeys from their mothers shortly
after birth, and isolated them in small cages. When given a choice between a
metal dummy-mother fitted with a milk bottle, and a soft cloth-covered dummy
with no milk, the baby monkeys clung to the barren cloth mother for all they were
worth.
Those baby monkeys knew something that John Watson and the experts of
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