Behavioural research experiments have shown that almost any living animal can be “taught” to respond in a predictable manner. You show a dog food and they instinctively salivate. You show a dog some food and sound a bell at the same time and the dog salivates. You do that enough times and the dog will come to associate the bell (not just food – and in fact, soon only the bell without the food) with salivation. You can train almost any animal to respond like this.
Most animals can also “teach” themselves (or their trainers) to respond in a certain manner. For example, a pigeon may notice once that when he spun to the right, he received a food reward. He will spin to the right again and see if he gets more food. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t, but it’s worth another shot, right? Of course, look at what’s at stake! There’s a perceived benefit to doing something in a particular way. Soon, the pigeon may find himself spinning and spinning, awaiting his reward and perhaps only erratically receiving it. Maybe he has to spin ten times before he is rewarded just once, the next time maybe only twice, the next feed may be 100 spins away – but it always seems so worth it!
The scenario described above about the pigeon is often quoted as an example of how almost any living creature is capable of superstition. A person or animal can do something because they believe they will receive a particular response, regardless of whether the behavior and the reward are causally linked. This belief can consist of a primitive or instinctive behavior in any animal or it can be a complex behavior derived from a complex centralized neurophysiological process (such as a ‘planned’ behavior initiated in a human cerebral cortex). Now, along with the concept of superstition comes the concept of addiction. A creature can derive so much pleasure from a thing (food, physical sensation, drug, drink, etc.), that he will continue to engage in repetitive behavior in order to attain it. He can continue to engage in the behavior even when he only seldom receives the reward, or even when as a result of behaving a certain way he suffers negatively. Why does this happen? Because some things seem so worth it!
We are very much like animals in some ways, and yet why is the human species different to other complex animals? Is it the cerebral cortex and its ability to house our sense of conscious planning, to perceive time, to exercise self-control, and to delay pleasure for perceived greater reward? Or is it our ability to hope and believe - even when what we believe is not biologically advantageous? To believe in things like love.
Most higher species are capable of caring for their young and will engage in what to the human eye appears to be affection. But can other animals love? What is love? I pose this question because love is one of the most addictive things on this planet. The reward, the pleasure in it, is that warm sensation of being "in love" and - if we're lucky enough - also of being loved. You fall in love and you forget about all those other times you thought you were in love. You forget of how much it hurt, you forget how hard it is to make any relationship work, you forget that every interaction with another human being will involve friction regardless of how much the people involved love each other. You risk hurting again. You risk losing. You risk your time, efforts, and emotional investment. You risk it even though you know the statistics. We tell ourselves 'no, this time it'll be perfect, we'll make it work, etc.' The reality is that from one relationship to the next we change very little yet expect a different result, a much more pleasant and successful result, each time. That is the stuff of superstitions, of addiction, of madness. And yet we do it. We fall in love again and again like a junkie addicted to the high. And we do it all because taking the risk - and the potential reward – seems AND IS so damn worth it!
No comments:
Post a Comment