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The lyrebird sings the sounds of its own ending
Lesley posted a link to this bird in comments. A stunningly capable mimic, the superb lyrebird of Australia can sing the songs of any other songbird it hears, as well as dogs, machinery, the flute of a boy another lyrebird heard forty years ago its sound passed down and improvised upon, and — provoking me — the sounds of the chainsaws, hand saws, and axes that raze the forests in which it lives.
At first my question was this: is it more poignant that the lyrebird’s song has changed to reflect its fate, or that the songs of other birds remain the same?
On reflection, though, my mind has changed.
We tear one another apart, we singing apes, and the trivial and fleeting fraction of our world we call the Internet is not immune. We grasp, we quarrel, we acquire, and though we cloak our avarice in terms of justice it is avarice nonetheless. We stop our ears. I point no fingers: I have joyously taken my place among the offenders, valuing my pride and cleverness over others’ feelings. It is a complex world, and few are the moments in which attempts to support a good thing cannot be interpreted by some as tearing down a better thing.
Our avarice pulls the world down around us, and yet our song has not changed. We hew to the songs we learned four million years ago, the suspicion, the pride, the division into small bands hurling handsful of shit at one another. And the walls fall, but we scramble to pile them up again.
Which is the more poignant thing: that the lyrebird’s song has changed in the context of its doom, or that the lyrebird with its macadamia-sized brain is more adept at change than we are?
Posted by: Chris Clarke
Note: A database glitch in 2008 ate a bunch of archived comments. Don't be offended if yours isn't here, or confused if the conversation seems disjointed. Thanks!
The only poignancy in our doom is the “collateral damage” that goes with it. Oh shit, am I being negative again?
By: By Rob G on 2007 08 05
Elephants are amazing mimics, also. Researchers found an elephant in Kenya eerily mimicking the roar and hum of trucks on a nearby highway. Tarra, a resident of the elephant sanctuary near Hohenwald, Tennessee is extraordinarily fond of dogs and she frequently barks. (When I close my eyes I can’t always tell the difference.)
Tina, an elephant I had the good fortune to be involved with, mimicked the exotic birds she was forced to live next to in a Greater Vancouver zoo. There’s a recording of Tina chirping here (click links, select “hear Tina talk”). Videos of the sanctuary elephants here.
Elephants are displaying odd behaviours in parts of Asia and Africa. They are largely peaceful by nature but lately there are stories of herds of wild elephants destroying villages and killing people. Even in instances where food is not the issue they are killing. In most cases they are reacting to the loss of their habitat. But scientists wonder if they are exacting revenge after years of ruthless poaching. This wouldn’t surprise me. What does surprise me is the enormous patience most elephants demonstrate in and out of captivity to the abuse they endure from us.
Elephants are extraordinarily adaptable. In the eastern state of Orissa, an old male operates his own toll booth on a well trafficked highway. He blocks their way, forcing them to stop. If a commuter does not wind down his window or resists opening the vehicle door, the elephant stands in front of the car until the driver allows him to carry out his routine inspection. “If you are carrying vegetables and banana inside your vehicle, then it will gulp them and allow you to go.” He’s a determined but gentle soul. So far he hasn’t harmed anyone.
I don’t know how to answer your question, Chris. I wish I could appreciate the lyrebird’s qualities and capabilities without feeling the burden of what humanity is doing to it.
I am not fond of the self-absorbed human mass. There are simply too many of us consuming too much and doing too much damage, and although we are fully capable of turning things around, the overwhelming majority choose to carry on. We have the ability and the wealth to cure poverty, disease, famine, the loss of habitat, all of it ...but we will not do it. Hell, there are people who won’t make even the smallest efforts; like the people I live near who are too lazy to recycle their fucking garbage, who litter streets and sidewalks with their refuse, who insist that seeing animals in cages at the zoo is their right, whose primary activity is acquiring more and more useless crap, who would rather hop in their cars and drive a block than walk. I hate this. I hate them. I hate us. I feel guilty for hating but I hate just the same. (I couldn’t bear to bring a child into this world, not because of what the world’s becoming but because I’m loathe to inflict another all-consuming human being on this planet.)
What I can say is I have learned more from elephants over the past thirteen years about what it means to be human than I have from most of the humans in my life. They seem to embody the best of what we are and very little of the bad.
You might feel the same way about Zeke, I don’t know. I can tell you I wouldn’t have survived the intense agony of my childhood if the dogs who (yes, “who”) comforted me hadn’t been there. I am loathe to use “animal” as a derogatory word when describing the worst of our kind. Bush a chimp? He doesn’t measure up.
It is my dream to be able to work at one of the two elephant sanctuaries when I retire. I would be happy to shovel poo and prepare vegetables and foot soaks for the rest of my days. Anything to give back to these wonderful animals. I can’t begin to repay them for all they have done for me.
(sorry for the length of this comment)
By: By Lesley on 2007 08 05
We hew to the songs we learned four million years ago
My personal conceit is that we would be much further along if everyone would at least accept that many of the roots of our behavior and psyches do stretch back that far. (And no, I don’t mean the armchair ev psych stuff where somehow our genes magically are configured to “naturally” result in mid-20th century middle American power structures.) Rather we need a deeper understanding as a species of who we are and where we came from to help craft personal and societal practices that are constructive and do not exploit the easy “hot” buttons. (OK I know that I’m really on the moon here ... )
My simple form of this is everyone waking up each morning and saying: I am an animal, and that’s OK. And then going out and acting as if it were true.
My fear (and gut feeling) is that nothing like this will happen broadly across the world until after we have a Dark Ages type crash (and long slow rebuild) fueled by the comeuppance of the centuries-long Ponzi scheme of the current global economy, with some further impetus added by a dose of in-denial aggressive American exceptionalism lashing out and inciting every other militaristic and totalitarian group in the world.
Have a nice day.
By: By JP Stormcrow on 2007 08 05
Have a nice day.
Yeah.
The lyrebird flute song is breathtaking, though.
Elephants, too.
By: By Theriomorph on 2007 08 05
chris, i don’t often attempt to argue with you, and i’m not arguing a bit about the sadness of the lovely lyrebird’s adoption of chainsaws in its musical reperatoire.
but i think mimicing the sounds that have changed around one is not the same as adapting. the lyrebird’s new songs are poignant because it is not able to adapt in the long run—it is not able to fend off the change, or to find new habitat. it has no language to negotiate for itself with the intruders.
and it is slow going for us as a species, too. there are a lot of us; there are a lot of complicated problems various people face; getting us all on the same page about what to do—to save our planet and ourselves—is a plodding and perhaps overwhelming task.
i thought of two things, when i read about the lyrebird. the first is that this bird is not unique in adopting sounds around it. a wonderful biology professor at my college went on to work at the CA academy of sciences, and his life’s work was on the songs of songbirds—he was especially interested in regional adaptations. dr. baptista was a very lovely human. http://www.calacademy.org/geninfo/newsroom/releases/2001/Birdsong1001.html
and also—this is not so very different from human adaptations of language. we all personally can see changes in language over time and from place to place—slang, regional customs, new terms in response to technology, etc. the freaking oxford english dictionary has to keep updating on a regular basis, and it is years behind.
linguistics people study the formation of different languages; most modern languages trace back to a few common beginnings. we listen, we borrow, we change things—those kinds of processes have gone on for a very long time, and happen more quickly today, but as a species, that communication and those changes are important.
words matter. talking matters. agreeing, disagreeing, looking for new information or a new view on something matters. it was that kind of exchange that brought the civil rights movement to fruition; that kind of discourse that provided any considerations of fairness or protection to happen anytime, any place.
those net kerfluffles? they don’t matter much, and are bad when they turn from exchanging info to attacks. shit, who has time for that? there are too many stories to hear and to tell, too many places we need to do good and enjoy the wonders in the short time we are here.
By: By kathy a on 2007 08 05
about lots of “stupid” things combining to make something “smart.”
There’s hope for the Internets!
By: By Chris Clarke on 2007 08 06
kathy a, thanks for reminding me (and us) of Dr. Baptisa’s work. He’s got at least two CRN-reading fans I know of.
And I agree with pretty much everything you’ve said (and I’m sorry i let it languish it the spam bin).
Really, all I was thinking about is the inadvertent metaphor, playing with it a bit. I agree that talking is the most important thing we do. I’m not certain about the usefulness of one community of which I am (or was) a member, but that’s old news for CRN readers.
Sometimes an image presents itself and you just have to say it. Know what I mean?
By: By Chris Clarke on 2007 08 06
yeah, i do. and thanks for writing about it, too.
By: By kathy a on 2007 08 06
It’s an entire radio program about emergence, about lots of “stupid” things combining to make something “smart.”
Hey I think there may be a place for me in that scheme. Interesting show ... there certainly are plenty of wonder-ful things in the world.
A favorite passage of mine on emergence is from Pirsig’s Lila (for the most part a forgettable book) in which he marvels at the energy of New York City as he walks through Manhattan.
As to our prospects, I like Paul Ehrlich’s short simple description of necessary steps.
Gradual and humane reduction of the size of the human population, limiting of wasteful per capita consumption among the rich to allow room for increased consumption by the poor, use of more environmentally benign technologies and increased equity among and within nations will all be required.
Likelihood of our following them left as an exercise for the reader.
By: By JP Stormcrow on 2007 08 07
kathy a, do I infer correctly that you actually got to meet Luis Baptista?
Wow.
By: By Ron Sullivan on 2007 08 07
ron—yes. i didn’t take courses or speak much with him, but attended several lectures, and one of my good friends studied under and worked for him. it was a small college, and he was a passionate teacher—often eating with students in the cafeteria, chatting with people around campus. it’s coming up on 30 years since i saw him, but i remember his huge smile, how excited he was about his work, how interested he was in students, in helping us think and engage.
dr. baptista impressed us not just because of his work and the specific courses he taught; he gave us young whippersnappers examples of human behavior to which we could aspire. so—the species has produced hitler and the mafia and enron executives and trolls—but it also produces people who can do interesting scientific work and be terrific, caring, inspiring humans. gives me some hope and happiness just to remember.
you know i’m not a bird person—a lot of what i heard either went over my head or wasn’t retained. what i do remember is maybe a counterpoint to the idea humans stink.
By: By kathy a on 2007 08 07
you know i’m not a bird person—a lot of what i heard either went over my head
*rimshot*
By: By Chris Clarke on 2007 08 07
the universe can’t be all bad if some guy up the road can reduce me to a fit of giggles with a rimshot.
By: By kathy a on 2007 08 07
