After our altercation, I spent some time wondering about the wolf’s reasons for attacking me, eventually coming to believe that he had been prompted by an inherent need to challenge my authority in order to elevate his status. But, after learning about the results of Jim’s charge against Shawano and Denali, I began to doubt the accuracy of my surmise. Wa may well have tried to attain Alpha rank when he challenged me, but now I felt that he had dared to do so because of some sign of weakness or indecision that he had detected in my behaviour. Immediately after formulating this thought, however, I wondered what it was about Jim’s experience that could have reminded me of my own and at the same time cast doubts upon my original conclusions. The two incidents were totally dissimilar, yet in some way they seemed to be connected. How? This question nagged me during the remainder of our stay in Michigan, and continued to do so after Sharon and I had returned home; but, try as I might, I could find no relationship between my fight with Wa and Jim’s charge against his Alpha wolves. Eventually, unable to rid myself of the feeling that I was missing an important aspect of wolf behaviour. I began to make a detailed comparison of the two happenings, analyzing the behaviour of the wolves and of the humans involved, the age of each animal, and the events that preceded both confrontations. Afterwards I drew upon my observations of wild wolves and other animals, marshaling all the behavioural data that I had gathered during half a lifetime of field study. This task has taken almost a year to accomplish, but it was well worth the doing, for it has led me to form conclusions that I believe will lead to a better understanding of the social behaviour of wolves, of other animals, and, I daresay, of humans. There is no need to recount here all the laborious steps undertaken during the course of my research, many of which led me down a number of blind alleys without yielding a single clue, so I will bypass that tedium and deal only with the one factor that connected the two incidents: aggression, an answer that I initially rejected because it appeared to be much too simplistic, if only because no organism attacks unless it is aggressive. Both Wa and Jim had been similarly motivated, the wolf attacking me and the man charging the two Alphas. But because nothing else made sense, and inasmuch as I was still obsessed with the problem, I decided to review the biology of aggression and those factors that cause it to develop in animals and in my own species.
When the senses of an animal alert it to the presence of a threat, or a challenge, it will react either aggressively or fearfully, depending on circumstances and especially on the degree of self-confidence inherent in the individual. In either event, the physiological effects of aggression and fear are identical, because whether an individual decides to attack or elects to escape, the ensuing, stepped-up activity will demand the expenditure of high levels of energy. For this reason, when an animal (or a human) becomes aware of a challenge, its senses telegraph the news to the endocrine system, a complex of ductless glands that, during normal behaviour, discharge directly into the bloodstream graduated amounts of hormones, substances without which metabolism cannot take place. When an alarm is triggered, however, the endocrine glands instantly pump out high levels of hormones, particularly epinephrine (adrenaline), which simultaneously cause the heart to beat faster, accelerate breathing, speed up blood-clotting, raise blood pressure, increase the supply of blood sugar, produce better muscle tone, and promote higher resistance to fatigue, all of which reactions enable the body to function at maximum efficiency during physical exertion. When the metabolic rate is sped up by the surge of endocrinological fuel, it follows that internal activity is accelerated; in other words, the engine is working at full power, even though the wheels have not yet begun to turn. Correspondingly, the amounts of wastes normally discharged by all organisms – even when at rest – rise proportionally. Wolves and other animals are able to scent these wastes, which are discharged through the sweat glands, urine, and feces; and inasmuch as they contain high levels of endocrinological residues, a wolf’s keen nose can immediately detect the change in metabolism, even across quite long distances if it is downwind of the odour trails.* Nevertheless, scent merely advertises an individual’s arousal. It cannot, by itself, be used to determine whether an animal will respond aggressively or fearfully to that which has been perceived as challenging or threatening. But because wolves are exceptionally keen observers and employ all of their faculties in unison and at all times, they can tell immediately whether an animal is disposed to run or to fight by noting the way that it is behaving.
After reaching this stage of my review, I became sidetracked for a time when I confused aggression and anger, terms that are most often used synonymously, but which have completely different meanings when examined biologically. As a result, my investigations became stalled until I realized that aggression in nature is a positive arousal designed to increase the chances of an animal’s survival (and, therefore, that of its species) by furnishing it with the will and the energy to defend itself, to escape danger, to secure its food, to protect its young, and to regulate its social affairs. But anger, I was forced to conclude, is a pathological emotion, signs of which I had never noted among wild animals. These things prompted me to theorize that anger is a uniquely human aberration that most probably developed after our species learned to use and make tools, especially weapons.
As soon as primitive man discovered that he could kill artificially, and that a weak individual could slay a larger, stronger opponent without engaging in hand-to-hand combat – thus ensuring a quick victory while minimizing the risks of personal injury or death – our aggressive tendencies were more easily aroused and were given freer rein. Then, too, tools and weapons allowed primitive humans to secure more food, a circumstance that must have dramatically changed our living patterns. Man could now become relatively sedentary, hunting a much smaller territory and occupying a fixed home base until he exhausted the local food supplies, at which time the family would move to a new location that was well stocked with prey, set up housekeeping in another cave, and begin the process anew.
Each human family could also afford to increase the numbers of its social unit. This rise in the birth rate and a drop in the death rate that must have resulted when food became more plentiful and men no longer needed to engage in bare-handed fighting – probably led to the end of the small, ecologically sound, and fully independent family unit, which in due course became replaced by the tribe and eventually by the nation, or mega-family.
Although it is now impossible to trace the timing of these changes in the evolution of Homo sapiens, I postulate that departure from the natural social order gave rise to the many frustrations that are now endemic in all human societies. These irritants keep individuals in a constant state of stress, a condition that causes the endocrine system to pump into the blood higher levels of hormones than are needed in view of the fact that a person is not actually facing an action-provoking, life-and-death situation. The constant pressure of frustration, coupled with the chemical imbalances that result when a failure to act physically does not burn off the excess hormones, results in anger.
Wolves and other animals, conversely, dissipate the hormones of aggression by almost constantly engaging in action of one sort or another, for even when not belligerently or fearfully aroused they tend to exercise by running, playing, or mock-fighting. This activity keeps the supply of hormones in proper balance at all times and contributes to peace and conviviality within the pack. Furthermore, because wolves usually forgive a trespass or a punishment immediately after hostilities have ended, there are no grudges left to fester and to flare up later. There is no hate in the world of the wolf!
Thinking along these lines, it occurred to me that anger became, in effect, the bastard offspring of aggression, an antisocial, frequently self-destructive emotion that runs contrary to the natural laws of survival. Conversely, aggression, especially as typified by wolves and other wild animals, continues to instigate a positive response to social stimuli and develops within an individual at least four levels of i
ntensity.
The first and mildest form of aggression in wolves is passive; it is physically advertised by the way in which an animal carries itself, its positive movements and calm manner denoting self-assurance. The second stage is passive-active, displayed when an individual continues to demonstrate self-assurance, but at the same time signals elevated arousal by exaggerating its behaviour and movements: in this case, a wolf keeps its ears stiffly erect and forward-pointing; its hackles rise, its tail is carried high, its eyes stare fixedly, and it is likely to emit low, rumbling growls, all of these signals being directed at the object of its arousal, the intent being to intimidate and thus to preclude fighting. Stage three is defensive, and is most often observed in subordinate animals who feel themselves threatened. Such individuals exhibit the usual signs of submission, but at the same time, by growling. baring their teeth, and raising their hackles, they give warning that they will fight if pressed, behaviour that also serves to prevent actual combat because a dominant wolf, accepting the submissive signs and noting the defensive signals, does not wish to precipitate a fight during which it may itself suffer injury, even if it emerges the victor. The fourth stage of aggression is offensive and will result in action if an opponent or a prey animal does not escape. Here the initial signs are the same as those exhibited during stage two (passive-active), the difference being that an attack will take place.
Although the manifestations of aggression that occur during interactions between wolves, or even between a wolf and a predator of another species, are similar to those exhibited when the animals are hunting, during a social argument it is rare for one wolf to open hostilities with the intention of killing its opponent. That is why warnings are given and most usually heeded, for the main objective of such confrontations in the natural world is the elimination of a challenge, not the destruction of the opponent. If it were otherwise, there can be little doubt that most species of animals would have exterminated themselves long before the advent of man, who alone has earned for himself the doubtful distinction of being the only mammal that systematically makes war upon its own kind with as much dedication as it applies to the increase of its numbers. When wolves hunt, however, they set out with the express purpose of killing their quarry as quickly as possible. They are, after all, carnivores that evolution created for the express purpose of maintaining balance among populations of their prey, just as their own numbers are kept in balance partly by their societal habits and partly by the exigencies of the hard life of the hunter. Nevertheless, and contrary to the myths propagated by those humans who fear and hate the wolf, he does not set out with the intention of torturing the animals that he must kill in order to survive. The idea that a cautious animal – who knows full well that if he is injured he will probably die as a result-would delay a kill for sadistic reasons is patently ridiculous.
Applying all of the foregoing factors to my confrontation with Wa and to Jim’s charge against Shawano and Denali, I realized that whereas Jim’s behaviour had been prompted by aggression and had therefore succeeded in intimidating the two Alphas, my attempt to punish Wa had been passive: when the wolf tried to steal the steak bone from my plate, he did so in the knowledge that he was taking a great liberty. But I did not see things from an Alpha wolf’s point of view. I had finished my meal and would have given him the bone in any event, so I was not particularly disturbed when he tried to obtain the food without permission. I was not, therefore, aggressively aroused when I sought to administer a mild reproof. And Wa, detecting no change in my mood or in the odour of my body, took this to mean that I was not prepared to back up my reprimand. To his way of thinking, my action in slapping him had demonstrated aggression; on the other hand, my behaviour and body odour were not signalling arousal because I was not, in fact, feeling aggressive. So, quick as wolves are to take advantage of any situation that they believe will be to their advantage, Wa attacked me, almost certainly thinking that he could defeat me and thereby gain Alpha status. My own immediate arousal and the results of our fight taught him that he could not dominate me. In retrospect, I now realize that I profited from the experience in a subconscious way, because thereafter I reprimanded the wolves only when it was important to do so and I forced myself to become stern whenever I exercised my authority.
*Furred animals lose heat by panting; humans cool their bodies by perspiring. This difference has given rise to a commonly held belief that animals do not sweat. In fact, all animals have sweat glands on the skin and, particularly, on the pads of the feet. The wastes that they excrete through the pores serve at least three functions: they help to rid wastes from the body, they provide social recognition by giving to each individual its own highly distinctive odour, and, as noted, they allow animals to detect by scent the onset of aggression or of alarm.
The behaviouristic viewpoint has been accepted,
implicitly if not explicitly, by most ethologists studying
animal behaviour, so it is not surprising that they learn very
little about animal thoughts and feelings.
Donald R. Griffin, Animal Thinking
4
During the last days of Denali’s pregnancy, as her condition became clearly uncomfortable, she stopped harassing Brigit and took to spending most of her time near or actually inside the den, which was located in a fairly open area of the enclosure and almost in view of the Wuepper home. Originally dug in 1979 by Brigit and Shawano, in 1981 the tunnel had been extended by Denali and now ran a crooked course for twenty feet, past Brigit’s old nesting chamber, before ending in the oval depression in which the pups would be born, a roomy, dark concavity that was approximately three feet in diameter and about two feet in height in the centre.
Whenever the pregnant wolf rested underground, Shawano and Brigit, good friends again, hovered solicitously at the tunnel entrance, whining softly at intervals, scratching at the ground with their front paws and showing by their every action that they were pleasantly anticipating the arrival of the new pups. Shawano now made it his business to carry food to his mate, leaving it at the tunnel mouth if she was inside the den and whining more loudly to let Denali know that it was available. Brigit did not attempt to steal Denali’s food, although she had ample opportunity to do so with impunity. Such behaviour by Brigit was uncharacteristic. She is a supreme opportunist who, small as she is, eats more than big Shawano because she is hyperactive and metabolizes at a high rate. Observing the respect that she showed for Denali’s unguarded food, Jim concluded that Brigit was inherently aware that the pregnant wolf was in need of sustenance, and that she shared Shawano’s concern for the mother-to-be. His is an opinion with which I fully agree because it is compatible with the behaviour I have often observed in wild packs, members of which are always solicitous about each others welfare and especially so about the comfort of a pregnant female – despite any social altercations that may have taken place in the past.
On April 26, Jim noticed that Shawano and Brigit were particularly excited and had left untouched the chicken parts he had put in the enclosure. Instead, they stayed near the tunnel entrance, whining more loudly than usual, pawing, licking each other, and acting restlessly. When Jim approached them, Shawano became clearly uneasy, but tolerated his presence when he went to the tunnel entrance to listen. (The behaviour of the wolves led him to think-mistakenly as it turned out-the pups might have been born during the night.) Brigit, on the other hand, raised her hackles and growled, a warning that Jim took to mean that he should not seek to crawl into the den and disturb Denali. Because all was quiet within the burrow, Jim left the enclosure, accepting Brigit’s reprimand in the spirit that it had been given.
The next day, Denali gave birth to four pups. But it was not until three days later that Jim, assisted by Scott Stewart and George Wilson (whose presence outside kept Shawano and Brigit from interfering), crawled into the den to discover that Denali had given birth to three females and one male.
One of the lit
tle bitches, the smallest, was dead; she had been licked clean of the birth fluids, then pushed to one side, but because of the darkness (despite the use of a flashlight), the time delay, the confinement, and the rather rank odour given off by the residues of the birthing process, it was impossible for Jim to determine whether the puppy was stillborn or had died later. Electing to leave the little corpse in the chamber so as to allow Denali to deal with it in her own way, Jim retreated by pushing himself backward along the tortuous and claustrophobic tunnel, emerging, covered with soil and soaked with perspiration, to break the news to his companions.
In Praise of Wolves Page 7