by Colin McAdam
Black colour-of that.
And he held up the whistle again.
Red.
Red red red.
And she was happy.
She called magazines red, her blue hairbrush red, the blind uncovering the window red, and Dave grew excited. He gathered the other people to his window and he and some of them smiled because they knew that anything Mama really liked was red. When the Hardest grew softer and they saw the trees, Mama went to the machine and said
That red.
Dave liked it best when they shared like that, the pictures beyond the pictures. His face changed.
? Ghoul what colour Dave’s eyes.
Dave was at the window pointing to his eyes and neither smiling nor crying nor frowning. Dave’s soft face.
Please Dave swing Ghoul.
? Ghoul what colour Dave’s eyes.
? Tickle.
Later. ? Ghoul what colour Dave’s eyes.
Red Green Green Blue Black Green Blue.
ten
We wanted to know what friends were, says David to a conference.
Girdish was a warren of different interests in those days and when he thinks of it he remembers a time of great excitement. From room to room there were studies of intelligence, memory, communication, breeding, all distinct and diverse but united by a sense that we were always on the verge of something. Staff would smoke pipes and pot and sit with the younger apes, and ideas were openly traded. Few people shaved, and some of the male and female researchers kissed and thought we might as well be honest.
David was young then, as was his profession. And when you’re young it sometimes seems like the world, no matter how old, is being shaped anew. It seemed like everyone was talking about primates. Journalists often visited, and some of the research was published in the popular press around the world. The Naked Ape was a bestseller. Konrad Lorenz had explained our warmongering and violence by looking at us as animals. It seemed like humans were at least talking about kinship, if not actually acknowledging that they were apes.
There were reports from field studies in Africa, from Gombe and the Japanese groups. Much of it was anecdotal in the early days. Chimpanzees have culture. In Gombe the chimps were wiping ants off sticks with their hands and bringing the wad of ants to their mouths, but in the Taï Forest they were bringing the sticks directly to their mouths. This was behaviour that they had learned and passed down through observation and imitation. Strangers would be recognized by how they ate. At the time, most Americans were eating with their forks in their right hands, and being mocked by Europeans for doing so.
David used to envy the people doing the field studies. There was a growing rivalry between those who worked with apes in labs and those who observed them in the wild. Do we know them better when they interact with humans or do we only understand the traits we have in common. Isn’t it best to see them behave as chimps in the wild, or is every ape, humans included, always adapting to some sort of culture imposed by others.
From the field came reports of chimps doing dances or displaying whenever it rained. They were seen to marvel at waterfalls and to act unusually when they saw some wonder of nature. There were chimps in Kibale who used small sticks to clear their noses, and there were others who laid floors of branches across thorny ground to protect their feet.
David wanted to see these things in the wild, but he also had plenty of his own stories, his own examples of culture and of inventiveness. Much was made of the fact that the Ugandan chimps used a unique hand clasp when grooming—something that no other colonies were seen to do. At Girdish, when the field station grew and the population was stable, Podo clapped his hands whenever he wanted to be groomed, a ritual Podo would not have seen anywhere else. All the others in the colony copied him. As new apes were introduced they either learned to clap or were shunned. Wherever they are, apes invent culture, and their culture is strengthened through the exclusion of others.
So while David heard field reports and felt excited by the broader world, he felt as though he had his own small country here. There were experiments that made him feel he was part of a family, and his memories of the early days are not just of youthful enthusiasm but of iconoclasm. Like all his younger colleagues, he wanted to demolish beliefs about what it meant to be human.
They wanted to see whether chimps were capable of doing favours for others without reward. Was the celebrated altruism of humans unique.
We devised trials with several of the chimps he says to the conference. We put them individually in their cells, and outside the cages I and another researcher would pretend to fight over a stick. The other researcher would win the fight and walk away, dropping the stick within reach of the chimp but beyond my reach.
At that point I would make noises and stretch for the stick beyond my reach, and would plead with the chimp, gesturally, non-verbally, to reach outside the cage to get it for me. There was no incentive for the chimp to help me, no food or praise, yet every chimp retrieved the stick and gave it to me.
We refined the experiment and made it more difficult for the chimps to get the stick. The other person who won the play fight would put the stick high up beyond everyone’s reach, but the chimp could get it by climbing up and opening a door. And again, even in the face of effort and obstacles, they always got the stick and gave it to me.
I love remembering those trials. We often did similar tests with humans, to compare. We created a similar scenario with toddlers, twenty-month-old babies who couldn’t speak. Two women would pretend to fight over a crayon, and the winner would drop it beyond the reach of the loser and leave the room. The losing woman would reach out but be restricted by a desk, and the toddler could see that the woman really wanted the crayon. The toddler would watch the woman reaching and pleading, non-verbally, and the toddler would walk over and pick up the crayon and bring it to the woman. We made obstacles again, like we did with the chimps, and the kids still picked up the crayon and handed it over. None of them kept the object for themselves.
It was moving to see these little creatures helping each other. That’s what I remember.
This was decades ago.
It’s hard to find anyone outside my profession who talks about these things anymore.
David pauses and remembers that in all the human trials, the toddlers had their mothers in the room. They sat in the corner and were instructed to be neutral, and the kids usually looked towards their mothers before they did anything.
We never had the choice of chimps that I wanted. When I was younger I had an ideal subject in mind, but as I aged and got to know the chimps I realized ideals were nonsense. Our chimps came from everywhere, and it soon appealed to me as a city in microcosm. Of course backgrounds and personal histories mattered, but, just like in a city, those personal histories would have to come up against the reality of this new society.
We had a chimp named Billie for a while. He had been part of NASA’s space program, so I expected him to have difficulty with some of the others—too humanized—but he quickly behaved like a typical male chimpanzee and had alpha status briefly.
When I think of friendships I remember Rosie having her baby, Burke. It was never clear who the fathers of any of the children were because when the females were in estrus they had multiple partners. But it was pretty clear that Billie did not consider Burke to be his own. Rosie never took to motherhood, but on the first day when we reintroduced her to the colony with her baby, Billie moved aggressively towards her. His hair was on end, as scary as an alpha could be, and he was clearly intent on harming the baby.
Podo and Ghoul, as if they had been planning it, stepped directly in Billie’s way. They actually had their arms around each other and stood between Billie and Rosie. We have photos of it.
One thing we noticed whenever we introduced new chimps was that the older ones, those who had been reliable, compliant subjects in the past, were suddenly less consistent in their performance of various skills. The more we got them working t
ogether, the more difficult it was to gather data. It was as if they had suddenly forgotten all they had learned, or that their prior learning had been an illusion. Sometimes it seemed to put all earlier findings in doubt.
The cooperation tests were telling. There was a famous old video of a study by Nissen and Crawford. Two juveniles sit side by side against a cage and each pulls on a rope attached to a heavy tray, upon which is piled food. If the chimps pulled the ropes cooperatively they were able to pull the food towards them. The video shows the chimps cajoling each other when one or the other is unwilling to work, putting an arm around a shoulder or giving encouraging shoves. It seemed proof that chimpanzees were willing to work together for a common task, until it emerged that the chimps had been trained to work together and that some of the test subjects would simply refuse to do the task. There was no real proof that chimpanzees would cooperate.
At Girdish we devised a series of tests which showed the importance of prior relationships. If the test subjects had got on well with each other, in advance of the cooperation study, they performed quite predictably in the advancement of a common goal.
The real test was whether or not they had succeeded together in the past. Our trials, and several others around the world, have shown that personality differences, tolerance among individuals, can be the deciding factors in these cooperation studies. Dominant chimps in a pair would dictate the progress of a trial, as would the question of whether the other in the pair would truly accept that dominance.
We eventually came up with a test where a chimpanzee could choose which partner he or she would work with. They were given a key which could open any cage, and they were free to release the chimp of their choice for the trial. What we found was that if the chimp with the key had been successful with a partner in earlier food trials, he or she would always open that other chimp’s cage and they would perform a new task. If the new task was a success they would work together again, but as soon as there was a failure the chimp with the key would make a different choice of partner in the future. The other chimps in the trial would observe the successes and failures beyond their cages, and there was evidence that they would all shun the chimps who failed in tests which they witnessed.
There was clearly memory involved. On one occasion there was a gap of a week between tests. The chimps with the keys exclusively chose whatever skilful partners they had worked with the previous week. Over time it amounted to the development of what we would call reputation.
We know from other tests that chimpanzees will help each other, and humans, when there is no obvious reward. But when there is a third party and motivational reward involved from the beginning—in these trials, food—the matter of altruism is muddied.
The bottom line seems to be that if a chimpanzee does not need another to acquire food, he will not bother trying to get along with anyone.
And if he wants the help of someone, he will regularly choose the one he has found success with in the past, and consequently shun all others.
How many of you have lost friends.
eleven
They had parties.
M&M’s.
Dave lit vodka on fire and Mama went to the machine and said
That red.
Dave played a guitar that made Ghoul want to leave the room.
Some nights he slept and some nights his arms and legs ached and his bedroom was too small.
Ghoul thought more on his own sometimes and squirted white on his belly and leg.
New pictures were put on the machine.
Cassette
Microwave
Cockroach
Visitor
The greatest changes came with Visitor.
Some of the people then were Dr. Duane, Dave, Mary, Mama, Ghoul, the Fool, Orang and Sue. These along with others came and went. Anyone new or yekel was called Visitor.
And usually a Visitor meant Ghoul would have to work and not relax with Dave. The Visitor watched while Ghoul named pictures, looked at slides, worked for raisins and coffee till the ache bloomed in his goon. Sometimes there was more than one Visitor and Later Later Later when the window was bigger there were ten, twelve, fifteen of them sitting and watching Ghoul work.
Visitors could become many different things—a Visitor one day was Julie the next.
Dave stayed later than everyone sometimes and walked with Ghoul to his bedroom. Sometimes Ghoul took Dave’s cigarettes from his shirt.
One night in the Hardest before bed Ghoul was saying
Bedtime swing Ghoul yes yes Dave
And Dave said
Visitor.
Dave went away and came back to the window with a Visitor. She leaned on Dave and looked through the window.
Ghoul did not want to work.
Please bedtime swing Ghoul
And Dave said
Twizzler.
Bedtime.
Later.
No.
Dave was talking to the Visitor who was smiling in a way that Ghoul did not like. She smiled at Ghoul too and he felt tired.
No No No.
Dave said
? Ghoul what colour-of eyes Visitor.
She was standing at the window, looking to Dave and then intently at Ghoul with big white eyes and Ghoul was too tired to tell if she was a friend or a mindling liar. You need to touch and bother someone to see if they like you.
? Ghoul what colour-of eyes.
Please bedtime swing yes Please. Machine make Visitor off.
The Fool came into the room and took Ghoul by the hand and Ghoul looked over his shoulder at the Visitor and Dave, and they both looked shiny and lucky and stupid.
She came back another night and Dave made a new picture which meant and sounded like this when he said it:
Julie.
And Ghoul was not nice at first.
One day Dave said
? Ghoul what in corner low-down.
Julie.
No.? What in corner.
Julie in corner.
No.? What dirty thing in corner low-down.
Ghoul went to the window to look at Dave’s face to see if he was laughing but he wasn’t.
? Ghoul what in corner.
Cockroach in corner.
Ghoul did not get a raisin and was sorry. When Julie came that night Ghoul said
Please Julie chase Ghoul.
She looked at Dave and Dave said
Ghoul be good. Julie chase Ghoul.
Visitors were not allowed in the room, so chasing meant Julie had to run from Dave’s window to the new window and all the way around outside to the window where Dave blew smoke rings.
Julie ran around outside and Ghoul followed her inside and sometimes she would appear at that window and sometimes not and she was happy and good at the game.
Ghoul said
Again.
And they did it again.
And Ghoul said
Again.
And Dave said
No.
? Julie tickle Ghoul.
No.
? Ghoul tickle Julie.
Later.
Ghoul felt very happy and now liked Julie, and really liked the picture of tickling Julie, and he squirted white on his leg.
He squirted white on Julie. Dave came into the room with Julie one night and Ghoul could finally touch her and she smelled like apples.
He took off her shoes and liked her feet and liked the look of her small teeth.
He lay on his back with his legs spread to let her tickle his klopsiks but she didn’t.
The three sat on the floor and Ghoul walked over to her and sat on her lap. Her leg felt warm underneath him. She talked to Dave, and Ghoul stared at her, and she turned and looked at Ghoul for a long time. Then she talked to Dave and had her arm on Ghoul’s lap where she held him and it was warm on his leg and he stared at her teeth and squirted white on her arm.
They tried to put his cock into Mama later but it was bent and he didn’t want to, and the days were
sad and cold.
Mama wasn’t good at the machine.
Ghoul had a birthday party. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. There were hats and candles that burned the lips and Mama put lipstick on her face. That night Julie came to the room and gave Ghoul a present: a comb. Ghoul gave Julie kisses on the neck and lips and nuzzled and shnuttled and put his yalamak in her mouth to touch hers. He squirted white on her pink shirt and Dave said dirty, and Julie was red and happy. She sang happy birthday in the hard square room, with the lights of the machine and Dave’s face. She sang it quietly, like they hadn’t with Mama, and Ghoul missed sleeping Mama in a happy way, and he swung from the bar above the machine and hooled because tonight was rich as butter.
Dave and Julie put Ghoul to bed and it’s a night he still thinks of and tastes.
Please machine make party.
Julie kept coming at night and sang quiet songs.
When Julie stayed behind-the-room she gave Dave lots of kisses and Ghoul threw an apple at the window and screamed.
But Julie always came into the room, even when Dave hung on to her and said no. She didn’t talk through the machine, she came in and said where’s my Ghoul, my big Mr. Ghoul, and sometimes if they were sitting still for a moment he would go to the machine.
Dave looked different around Julie, like he was keeping a secret he really wanted to show. Sometimes Ghoul wanted to be alone with Dave and sometimes alone with Julie but he never wanted them together without him.
Mr. Ghoul stopped using the machine at night and Dave didn’t like that.
Julie said how’s big Mr. Ghoul, I missed you I brought you a present. He liked her so much he backed into her all the time, and she would scratch him. Whose little butt. Is that Mr. Ghoul’s. He felt excited and calm at the same time like when he drank coffee. He didn’t know what he wanted to do with Julie but he could taste it in his hips.
He pulled Dave’s hands off her whenever he could.
When she touched, it didn’t tickle.
I missed you Mr. Ghoul.
During the day, Ghoul would say
? Where Julie.
And Dave would say
Julie later.