by Ralph Nader
Meanwhile the Monarch Butterfly was chided by its fellow butterflies for not dramatizing how humans are shrinking habitats for developments and pouring insecticides on lawns. They said the Monarch could have cited human scientists declaring the extinction of more and more species of butterflies even while human writers and poets hold up butterflies as symbols of transforming beauty, love, and good fortune. The Monarch knew this but subdued itself again to the greater purpose of the program, hoping that its success would allow future presentations where these and other horrors could be placed before the human animals.
As for the worldly Earthworm, it had all it could handle just avoiding becoming a morsel for an early morning bird.
All in all, the first TRIAD of the Elephant, the Owl, and the Dolphin presented the INSECT TRIAD with its highest award: the Grand Shield of the Stalwarts, made of material donated by a colony of alligators from a fallen loved one, killed by a python in the Everglades.
The Human Genius arranged to make it possible for interested humans to learn about this selflessness of the Monarch and the Honeybee.
The Next Phase
In the immediate aftermath of the Insect Parade, the original TRIAD was besieged by classes of animals who perceived themselves as being excluded from the hundred-hour TALKOUT. The complaints poured in requesting time for the insectivores, the marsupials, the hoofed animals, the small carnivores, the marmosets and tamarins, and the whales. Individual animals claimed they could get high ratings. The mongoose, for instance, offered to show humans how it can attack and kill a giant cobra, poised to extend its deadly bite.
Clearly, the TRIAD agreed, the hundred-hour TALKOUT was entering a new phase. How to respond? The Dolphin, who was getting weary, suggested a variety show. Admit a large variety of animals for several hours of their unique demonstrations, having auditioned them for quality control, and just clump them together in a mixed format. This would mean the TRIAD wouldn’t have to go to all the work they had earlier choreographing themes.
Humans, said the Owl, are used to their own variety shows and so were familiar with the format.
The Elephant shook his trunk and seemed troubled. Other than prancing onto the stage, what messages are being transmitted to humans? “The TALKOUT is losing its coherency,” said the Elephant. “It’s losing its raison d’être and straying far from its original purpose. We cannot descend to just offering entertaining diversity. Diversity must mean something.”
While the TRIAD was conversing, three more demands for airtime came in: from the ungulates, the large primates (popularly known as the great apes), and most vigorously from the domesticates. Signing the petition of the domesticates were chickens, cows, pigs, goats, cattle, horses, ponies, and, most poignantly, lambs.
The Elephant and the Dolphin were a little overwhelmed. Whereupon the Owl drew on its inner resources, after all, flying and hunting nocturnally gave it an especially resourceful personality. The Owl, taking into account both the remaining time, and the need to keep the TRIAD’s standards up, suggested that they bring up the original purposes of the TALKOUT to guide the various applicants as they worked up what they wanted to present. These applicants were not to pander, to titillate or otherwise dumb-down their presentations. Every animal who was thinking of applying was given this sheet, listing the goals of the event. It read:
To gain respect from the human animals for exceptional capabilities.
To show them how the animal kingdom helps them.
To persuade them that it is in humans’ self-interest to help and protect the animal kingdom, leading to more humane treatment, fewer communicable diseases, and environmental sustainability. [Under this head were included examples of humans already nurturing animals.]
To encourage more research on the animal kingdom, which will reveal a larger intelligence than the stereotypical ideas that animals are ruled by genetic determination.
The last point, the research, is already underway via humans studying the emotions and thought processes of animals. Jane Goodall’s time with the chimpanzees provided evidence that these animals have a rich inner life.
The Owl’s framing made sense to the Elephant and the Dolphin. The purposes and standards were reintroduced in precise and bright language to both the animal and the human kingdoms before any further applications were processed. Each applicant, paying mind to the central goals, in its application had to describe its time on the air and submit to an audition.
Meanwhile, one of the ponies assisting the TRIAD came rushing in with a great suggestion from a possum that had been staying in a corner of a deck in a pricey home in California for three years. The possum, quite accustomed to observing humans, wondered why the TRIAD had not asked humans what they want to see on the screen. So far all the human-related items presented had been after the fact; that is, in response to the polling of humans as they watched different features. Why not ascertain their interests before they put all these shows on screen?
The TRIAD asked the “Human Genius” to conduct a quick poll and rank topics humans would like to view. Back came a long list, and topping it was migration of the birds!
Bird lovers are numerous, organized, and know what they want. Moreover, they were not the only ones intrigued by this subject. The fact that birds can fly as far as fifteen thousand miles from the Arctic to Central or South America and back is beyond fascination. How do they stay together, navigate strong winds, rain, and storms, and possess such a sense of uncanny direction as to land in the same place year after year and maintain their incredible flight energy? As one scientist put it, there are millions of neurons in these so-called bird brains, processing and using information from their environment, reaching all the way to navigating by the North Star.
For some time, the Human Genius had been worrying about the impromptu nature of the presentations. For a human audience, live shows are rare because of quality control problems, flubs, pauses, and the like. That is why shows are uniformly taped or, if live, as with the long-running Saturday Night Live, they have been practiced several times, right up to the 11:30 p.m. start time, in Saturday Night Live’s case. But the Human Genius hesitated to intervene. It would not be advisable if members of the animal kingdom saw the Human Genius as a behind-the-scenes puller of strings. Nonetheless, he gently suggested that the auditions constitute the tapings, making for a more vibrant and concise variety show. The TRIAD took ownership of the idea and sent out the word that all approved auditions were to be sent to headquarters to be further evaluated for acceptance, and used verbatim if accepted and within time limits.
On with the Show
The variety show was well publicized and widely anticipated by humans.
First up was something lighthearted but suitable for heading three, how humans could ameliorate the lives of animals, in this case, pets. It was the premiere of DOG TV: a collection of apps for computer or other screens that would keep all kinds of dogs occupied when they are left alone by their “owners.” To indicate the value of this entertainment, a number of dogs—a poodle, a German shepherd, a beagle, a Doberman, a Boston terrier, and an African hunting dog—were allowed to view the available shows. Humans went wild watching these dogs go nearly berserk with excitement, reacting to the provocative images on the screen: food, sexy dogs, lures, prey, household and wilderness scenes filled with cats and squirrels. The dogs couldn’t understand why they couldn’t reach these images even though they kept trying to fling themselves against the pictures.
Very few humans suspected who could have come up with this canine theater. Certainly not the dogs. Right? It was the Human Genius who wanted a whiz-bang opening for the variety programing. After that, he receded into passivity and watched the animals create the segments. How does this segment fit the standards? It gave millions of viewers information about dog tv and how it could end dog loneliness when the owners aren’t around.
The next segment turned upon goal two, documenting the way animals aided humans when humans helped them. Citing
a New York Times article, a rooftop honeybee, taking a lunch break from its colony at One Bryant Park in New York City, spoke as follows: “Look what you’ve done for us urban honeybees and for yourselves. You’ve set up hives on your rooftops to pollinate your green roofs. The green roofs use compost made from waste out of the building’s cafeteria. Manhattan is becoming beehive heaven and you’re harvesting our honey. It’s all win-win. Whee! Congratulations. Just keep spreading urban, rooftop beehives all over the world. We’re bullish on bees and you can’t believe the buzz!”
It now came time, in line with goal one, to call for respect. Again, referencing a Times article, a flatworm crawled up and stated, “Oh, humans, can you regrow your head or your tailbone? We can. And the more you know about us, the more you’ll learn how to regrow your heads, which, given your troubles, psychological or social, may someday be done on a large scale.
“Who among you knows the most about our capability? Go see the journal Nature, where three studies were published about the ‘signaling pathway known as WNT/beta-catenin,’ which orients us during regeneration. I’m just a simple flatworm, but in my simplicity you may be able to understand your complexity. A simple bit of advice before bye-bye: be sure you have your best brains look into ‘unintended consequences’ for humans able to regrow their heads or other organs emanating from your body.”
Now a lovely moth moved to center screen. Its topic was the more flattering part of goal three, how some humans were pitching in to help subhumans.
Coming off the second National Moth Week (July 23–29), the moth gracefully curtsied in gratitude. “More and more humans are calling themselves ‘moth’ers’ to promote the conservation of moths,” the insect said, celebrating what Senator Robert Menendez called “their incredible biodiversity, and their importance to ecosystem health.”
“I know what some of you humans are thinking,” predicted the moth. “What the heck, moths have eaten my wool pants, my wool sweater. They’re perforators of our wardrobes. And you’ve got the nerve to make them admirable.”
The moth explained, “That clothing destroyer was just one species (and the least attractive) of many species of moths. Don’t put us in the same closet.”
The moth then showed a picture of one of the more attractive among them, a virgin tiger moth, which looks like a brightly colored butterfly. “Listen to your knowledgeable human moth’er watchers spreading into thirty-four countries, from Nicaragua to Norway. They must know something valuable about moths.
“At any rate,” continued the moth, “I won’t be seeing you next July due to my short life span, but my grandchildren will be there. Become a moth’er. It’s just as much fun counting and identifying us as it is for birdwatchers. And you don’t have to get up so early. Your post office has issued a first-class postage stamp with a special commemorative moth-week cancellation.
“By the way, have you ever tried dried redwood chips in a bag in your closet? We moths cannot stand the odor of redwood. Just a tip.”
Of course, fulfilling the requirements of goal one, achieving respect, did not depend solely on noting valuable animal qualities as the flatworm had, but also on demolishing stereotypes.
A pack rat strode forward to cite a piece in Science News that said real pack rats are more orderly than human “pack rats.” Neotoma albigula, pack rats, called the white-throated wood rats, bring back to their midden homes such items as cowpats, rabbit pellets, and other animals’ dung. Inside their midden, researcher Michele Skopec of Weber State University in Ogden, Utah, found a coyote paw, Doritos bags, shotgun shells, a silver ring, and an old underwear band. Some of these materials were for bedding or food.
“They have this insatiable urge to cache,” reports. Like chronic human hoarders, they tend to live alone as they pile up their collections of just about anything. What made human viewers’ eyes bulge was the segregated orderliness of what these pack rats amass and how they can digest the toughest and most toxic stuff for food. One high school biology teacher remarked to her class that humans can learn much about the kind of interior decorating mind and the amazing digestive system of the pack rat species. (For more see the Washington Post, 2/25/14.)
Now came a segment that was likely to be controversial. It fit under goal three, helping animals would also benefit humans, but it pointed out that some animals’ more obnoxious behavior, such as destroying other much loved species or (for dogs) doing their business on the sidewalk, had roots in human thoughtlessness.
Under a magnifier, a tick appeared. “For all your dittoheads who disbelieve that the climate is changing due to your Homo sapiens, watch what we’re doing to moose in the wilds of Live Free or Die New Hampshire.
“Winter is starting later and ending sooner. That gives us—150,000 ticks per moose—longer to feed on a single moose and multiply like, well, ticks. I’m a female tick and I can lay three thousand eggs. What’s not to like about climate change?
“Have you seen the moose lately—the ones that are still standing? They look like moose ghosts, emaciated zombies with antlers. How would you look with tens of thousands of tiny bites every minute? Fewer moose means fewer tourists and fewer meals for wildlife and fewer birds and rabbits.
“It’s all about the ecosystem,” exclaimed the tick. “Your interference with it is causing our rampages. This is a wakeup call, and the hunters and the tourist industry know this, regardless of what your radio mouth Rush Limburger says. Colder, longer winters means fewer ticks.
“What’s our interest as ticks in telling you all this? We’re taking the long view. If the moose disappear, our tick descendents won’t have such a feasty host.”
A Saint Bernard trudged onto the stage and mentioned a topic that made urban walking perilous, the way dog walkers allow their pets to defecate on sidewalks and then don’t clean up the stain. Is that the dog’s fault? He or she can’t scoop the poop up in the way a human can.
The Saint Bernard offered a solution, already successful in Brunete, a middle-class suburb in Madrid, Spain. The mayor, Borja Gutiérrez, recruited a number of volunteers to bag the poop, box it, and send it back to its owners. It comes in a white box with the town seal labeled “lost and found.” Motivated by constant citizen complaints of dog dung, Gutiérrez found that delivering these boxes had reduced recklessness by 70 percent after only a two-week campaign. The mayor hopes that once embarrassed, dog owners will start using plastic bags as a habit.
The Saint Bernard added her own opinion: “It’s not just humans who are embarrassed. Think about us. We don’t have a way to pick the goo up and carry it to a proper place. We’re just not anatomically capable. This is a plea for help and harmony.” Then with the confirmatory bark, the gentle beast departed. (See the New York Times, 8/2/13.)
Continuing the topic of the bad behavior of humans, a gathering of cetaceans and three dolphins appeared in a giant water tank. The dolphins were stressed that hundreds of their dead sisters and brothers were washing ashore in the southeastern U.S. because of a lethal virus. Although the sea mammals didn’t know the source of the virus, they did know that conditions underwater were made stressful by human oil companies using high-decibel air guns every fifteen seconds for weeks at a time to search for oil and gas. They quoted a marine mammal expert as saying that “it must be like in a war zone” in the sea. It may deafen endangered species of whales. Whales and dolphins cannot survive in the dark ocean depths without depending on their hearing. They can’t find their pod. They get lost and can’t find food.
Seguing into goal one, the demand for respect, the cetaceans and dolphins reminded humans about research, which found a high level of intelligence and teachability among these marine animals. “Teach us,” said one of the dolphins, “to find your oil and gas by sensing vibrations. Teach us what we have to ingest from the ocean to increase our immunity from those viruses. Teach us so we can adapt.”
This request stunned the human animals in different ways. Some were amazed and thrilled to receive the challen
ge. Others grumbled about the absurdity of these animals claiming to be able to learn. To them it was all nature, not nurture.
The children wisely asked their parents: “Can we help?” Requests resulted in much mass media attention to the sea dwellers’ plight.
A Moment of Silence for the Dead Zones
With all this interest in sea creatures, the TRIAD decided to run their segment on dead zones on the planet, many of which already existed in the sea. They could go from water to land and mention parts of the earth that had also met this fate.
Humans sensed something big and told their friends to turn on the screen or their cell phones for the prime-time presentation.
The Elephant made her way to center stage.
“I, the Elephant, honored to be part of the guiding TRIAD, want to bring up the topic of the dreaded subject of DEAD ZONES, and, more specifically, the dead zones created by mining operations and nuclear reservations all over the globe. They are, by their uncontrolled nature, poisonous to the land, the air, and the water. All of us—and I mean all of us—in the larger vicinity are poisoned, sickened along with our babies. Mining companies do not discriminate, poisoning mammals, reptiles, fish, birds, insects, and humans, including farmers and, of course, their workers, and First Natives along with their families. The poisonous waters flow far to the villages and cities on their way to the ocean. The poisonous air is caught by the higher streams to contaminate many lungs, gills, and other organs over vast regions.”