The Human Zoo: A Zoologist's Study of the Urban Animal

by Desmond Morris

  The sexual examples are reminiscent of fetishism, but must not be confused with it. In the case of ‘overflow activities’, as soon as the natural stimulus is introduced into the environment, the animal reverts to normality. In the instances I have mentioned, the males immediately switched their attentions to females of their own species when these became available. They were not ‘hooked’ on their female-substitutes, like the true fetishists I discussed in the last chapter.

  An unusual mutual overflow activity occurred when a female sloth and a small douroucouli monkey were housed together. In nature this monkey makes a snug den for itself inside a hollow tree, where it sleeps during the day. The female sloth, had she given birth in the wild, would have carried her offspring on her body for a considerable period. In the zoo, the monkey lacked a warm, snug bed and the sloth lacked an offspring. The problem was neatly solved for both of them by the simple expedient of the monkey sleeping clamped tightly on to the sloth’s body.

  The operation of this fourth principle of the Stimulus Struggle is not so much a case of any-port-in-a-storm as any-port-when-becalmed and, despite the many winds that blow through the human zoo, the human animal frequently finds itself in this sort of situation. The emotional patterns of the super-tribesman are constantly being blocked for one reason or another. In the midst of material plenty there is much behavioural deprivation. Then he, like the zoo animals, is driven to respond to sub-normal stimuli, no matter how inferior these may be.

  In the sexual sphere, man is better equipped than most species to solve the absent-mate problem by masturbating, and this is the most common human solution. Despite this, zoophilia, or the act of copulation performed between a human being and some other animal species, does occur from time to time. It is rare, but less rare than most people imagine. A recent American survey revealed that in that country, among boys raised on farms, about 17 per cent experience orgasm as a result of ‘animal contacts’ at least once during their lives. There are many more that indulge in milder forms of sexual interaction with farm animals, and in certain districts the total figure has been put as high as 65 per cent of farm boys. The animals favoured are usually calves, donkeys and sheep, and occasionally some of the larger birds such as geese, ducks and chickens.

  Zoophilic activities are much rarer among human females. Out of nearly six thousand American women only twenty-five had experienced orgasm as a result of stimulation by another animal species, usually a dog.

  To most people such activities seem bizarre and revolting. The fact that they occur at all reveals the extraordinary lengths to which Stimulus Stragglers will go in avoiding inactivity. The parallel with the zoo world is inescapable.

  Other forms of sexual behaviour, such as certain cases of ‘better-than-nothing’ homosexuality, also fall into this category. In the absence of normal stimulation, the subnormal object becomes adequate. Starving men will chew wood and other nutritionally worthless objects, rather than chew nothing. Aggressive individuals with no enemies to attack will violently smash inanimate objects or mutilate their own bodies.

  5. If stimulation is too weak, you may increase your behaviour output by artificially magnifying selected stimuli.

  This principle concerns the creation of ‘super-normal stimuli’. It operates on the simple premise that if natural, normal stimuli produce normal responses, then supernormal stimuli should produce super-normal responses.

  This idea has been put to great use in the human zoo, but it is rare in the animal zoo. Students of animal behaviour have devised a number of super-normal stimuli for experimental animals, but the accidental occurrence of the phenomenon is limited to only a few examples, one of which I will describe in detail.

  It stems from my own research. For some time I had been keeping a mixed collection of birds in a large aviary on the roof of a research department. At one point they became troubled by nocturnal visits from a predatory owl which attempted to attack them through the wire of the aviary. Investigating the problem led me to make a number of dusk watches. The owl never came while I was there, and in fact was never heard of again, but although I drew a blank in that respect, what I did see was some very strange behaviour going on inside the aviary itself.

  Among the birds were some doves and some small finches called Java sparrows. These finches normally roost together, pressed closely up against one another on a branch. To my surprise, the finches in the aviary were ignoring one another, favouring the doves instead as roosting companions. Each dove had a tiny finch pressed tightly up against its plump body. The small birds were snuggling down contentedly for the night, and the doves, although somewhat startled at first by their strange sleeping partners, were too drowsy to do anything about them, and eventually they too settled down for the night’s sleep.

  I was completely at a loss to explain this peculiar pattern of behaviour. The two species had not been reared together, so there could be no question of mal-imprinting. The finches had not even been bred in captivity. They should, by all the rules, have roosted with other members of their own species. There was another problem. Why, out of all the other species in the aviary, did they choose the doves to sleep with?

  Returning to my roost-time vigil on subsequent nights, I was able to observe even more curious behaviour. Before going to sleep, the tiny finches often preened their doves, again an action which under normal circumstances they would only direct towards one of their own kind. Stranger still, they began to play leapfrog over the backs of their huge companions. A finch would leap on to the back of its dove, then off again at the other side; then back again, and so on. The ultimate oddity came when I saw one of the small birds push up underneath the body of its dove and shove itself between the big bird’s legs. The sleepy dove stretched high on its legs and stared down at the struggling form beneath its rounded breast. Once in position, the finch settled down and the dove subsided on to it. There they sat, with the finch’s pink beak protruding from the bottom of the dove’s chest.

  Somehow I had to find an explanation for this extraordinary relationship. There was nothing odd about the doves, except perhaps their remarkable tolerance. It was the finches that demanded further study. I found that they had a special signal at roosting time that indicated to other members of their species that they were ready to go to sleep. When they were active they kept their distance from one another, but when it was time to clump together for the night, one finch, presumably the sleepiest, would fluff out its feathers and squat low on its perch. This was the signal to other members of its group that they could join it without being repulsed. A second finch would fly in and squat up against the first one, fluffing its feathers out as it did so; then a third, a fourth, and so on, until a row of roosting birds had been formed. Late-comers would often hop along the backs of the row and squeeze down into a warmer and more favourable position in the middle. Here were all the clues I needed.

  The combined fluffing-and-squatting action made the finches look bigger and more spherical than when they were actively moving about. This was the key signal, saying, ‘come roost with me.’ A roosting dove was even bigger and more spherical, and therefore could not help sending out a much more powerful version of the same signal. Furthermore, unlike the other species in the aviary, the doves had the same greyish colour as the little finches. As they were so big, rounded and grey, they gave out a supernormal signal to the finches which the small birds simply could not resist. Being innately programmed to this combination of size, shape and colour, the finches automatically responded to the doves as super-normal stimuli for roosting, preferring them to their own species. The snag was that the doves did not form rows. A finch clumping with one found itself at the end of a ‘row’, jumped on to the dove’s back, failed to find the middle of the ‘row’, and jumped off the other side. The dove was so big that it must have seemed like a whole row of finches, so the small bird tried again, but still without success. With great persistence, the finch eventually tried pushing up from underneath the dove and at l
ast found a snug position in the ‘middle of the row’, between the bigger bird’s legs.

  As I said earlier, this is one of the few known instances of a non-human super-normal stimulus occurring without a deliberate experiment being carried out. Other, better known examples have always involved the use of an experimental dummy. Oystercatchers, for instance, are ground-nesting birds. If one of their eggs rolls out of the nest, it is pulled back in with a special action of the beak. If dummy eggs are placed near the nest, the birds will pull these in too. If offered dummy eggs of different sizes, they always prefer the biggest one. They will, in fact, try to heave in eggs many times the size of their own real eggs. Again, they cannot help reacting to a super-normal stimulus.

  Herring gull chicks, when they beg for food from their parents, peck at a bright red spot that is situated near the tip of the adult birds’ bills. The parents respond to this pecking by regurgitating fish for their young. The red spot is the vital signal. It was discovered that the chicks would even peck at flat cardboard models of their parents’ heads. By a series of tests it was found that the other details of the adult head were unimportant. The chicks would peck at a red spot by itself. Furthermore, if they were offered a stick with three red spots on it, they would actually peck more at that than at a complete and realistic model of their parents. Again, the stick with the three red spots was a super-normal stimulus.

  There are other examples, but these will suffice. Clearly, it is possible to improve on nature, a fact which some have found distasteful. But the reason is simple: each animal is a complex system of compromises. The conflicting demands of survival pull it in different directions. If, for example, it is too brightly coloured, it will be detected by its predators. If it is too drably coloured, it will be unable to attract a mate, and so on. Only when the pressures of survival are artificially reduced will this system of compromises be relaxed. Domesticated animals, for instance, are protected by man and no longer need fear their predators. Without risk, their dull colours can be replaced by pure whites, gaudy piebalds and other vivid patterns. But if they were turned loose again in their natural habitat, they would be so conspicuous that they would quickly fall prey to their natural enemies.

  Like his domesticated animals, super-tribal man can also afford to ignore the survival restrictions of natural stimuli. He can manipulate stimuli, exaggerate them and distort them to his heart’s content. By increasing their strength artificially—by creating super-normal stimuli—he can give an enormous boost to his responsiveness. In his super-tribal world he is like an oystercatcher surrounded by giant eggs.

  Everywhere you look you will find evidence of some kind of super-normal stimulation. We like the colours of flowers, so we breed bigger and brighter ones. We like the rhythm of human locomotion, so we develop gymnastics. We like the taste of food, so we make it spicier and tastier. We like certain scents, so we manufacture strong perfumes. We like a comfortable surface to sleep on, so we construct super-normal beds with springs and mattresses.

  We can start by examining our appearance—our clothes and our cosmetics. Many male costumes include padding of the shoulders. At puberty there is a marked difference in the growth rate of the shoulders in males and females, those of boys becoming broader than those of girls. This is a natural, biological signal of adult masculinity. Padding the shoulders adds a super-normal quality to this masculinity and it is not surprising that the most exaggerated trend occurs in that most masculine of spheres, the military, where stiff epaulets are added to further increase the effect. A rise in body height is also an adult feature, especially in males, and many an aggressive costume is crowned by some form of tall headgear, creating the impression of super-normal height. We would no doubt wear stilts, too, if they were not so cumbersome.

  If males wish to appear super-normally young, they can wear toupees to cover their bald heads, false teeth to fill their ageing mouths, and corsets to hold in their sagging bellies. Young executives, who wish to appear super-normally old, have been known to indulge in artificial greying of their juvenile hair.

  The adolescent female of our species undergoes a swelling of the breasts and a widening of the hips that mark her out as a developing sexual adult. She can strengthen her sexual signals by exaggerating these features. She can raise, pad, point, or inflate her breasts in a variety of ways. By tightening her waist she can throw into contrast the width of her hips. She can also pad out her buttocks and her hips, a trend that found its most super-normal development in the periods of bustles and crinolines.

  Another growth change that accompanies the maturation of the female is the lengthening of the legs in relation to the rest of the body. Long legs can therefore come to equal sexuality and exceptionally lengthy legs become sexually appealing. They cannot, of course, become super-normal stimuli themselves, being natural objects (although high heels will help a little), but artificial lengthening can occur in erotic drawings and paintings of females. Measurements of drawings of ‘pin-ups’ reveal that the girls are usually portrayed with unnaturally long legs, sometimes almost one and a half times as long as the legs of the models on which they are based. The recent fashion for very short skirts owes its sexual appeal not simply to the exposure of bare flesh, but also to the impression of longer legs it gives when contrasted with the earlier longer-skirted styles.

  A glittering array of super-normal stimuli can be found in the world of female cosmetics. A clear, unblemished skin is universally attractive sexually. Its smoothness can be exaggerated by powders and creams. At times when it has been important to show that a female did not have to toil in the sun, her cosmetics aided her by creating a supernormal whiteness for her visible skin. When conditions changed and it became important for her to reveal that she could afford the leisure to lie in the sun, then tanning of the skin became an asset. Once again her cosmetics were there to provide her with super-normal browning. At other periods, in the past, it was important that she displayed her healthiness, and the super-normal flush of rouge was added. Another feature of her skin is that it is less hairy than that of the adult male. Here again, a super-normal effect can be achieved by various forms of depilation, the tiny hairs being shaved or stripped from the legs, or painfully plucked from the face. The eye-brows of the male tend to be bushier than those of the female, so super-normal femininity can be obtained by plucking here, too. Add to all this her supernormal eye make-up, lipstick, nail-varnish, perfume and occasionally even nipple-rouge, and it is easy to see how hard we work the super-normal principle of the Stimulus Struggle.

  We have already observed in a previous chapter the lengths to which the male penis has gone in becoming a super-normal phallic symbol. In ordinary clothing it has not fared so well, except for a brief moment of glory during the epoch of the codpiece. Today we are left with little more than the super-normal pubic tuft of the Scotsman’s sporran.

  The strange world of aphrodisiacs is entirely devoted to the subject of super-normal sexual stimuli. For many centuries and in many cultures, ageing human males have attempted to boost their waning sexual responses by means of artificial aids. A dictionary of aphrodisiacs lists over nine hundred items, including such delightful potions as angel water, camel’s hump, crocodile dung, deer sperm, goose tongues, hare soup, lions fat, necks of snails and swan’s genitals. Doubtless many of these aids proved successful, not because of their chemical properties, but because of the inflated prices paid for them. In the eastern world, powdered rhino horn has been so highly valued as a super-normal sexual stimulus that certain species of rhinoceros have nearly become extinct. Not all aphrodisiacs were swallowed. Some were rubbed on, other smoked, sniffed or worn on the body. Everything from aromatic baths to scented snuff seems to have been pressed into service in the frantic search for stronger and more violent stimulation.

  The modern pharmacy is less sexually orientated, but it is bulging with super-normal stimuli of many kinds. There are sleeping pills to produce super-normal sleep, pep pills to produce super-norm
al alertness, laxatives to produce supernormal defecation, toilet preparations to produce supernormal body-cleaning, and toothpaste to produce a super-normal smile. Thanks to man’s ingenuity there is hardly any natural activity which cannot be provided with some form of artificial boost.

  The world of commercial advertising is a seething mass of super-normal stimuli, each trying to out-pace the others. With competing firms marketing almost identical products, the super-normal Stimulus Struggle has become big business. Each product has to be presented in a more stimulating form than its rivals. This requires endless attention to subtleties of shape, texture, pattern and colour.

  An essential feature of a super-normal stimulus is that it need not involve an exaggeration of all the elements of the natural stimulus on which it is based. The oystercatcher responded to a dummy egg that was super-normal in only one respect— its size. In shape, colour and texture it was similar to a normal egg. The experiment with the gull chicks went one step further. There, the vital red spots were exaggerated and, in addition, the other features of the parent figure, the unimportant ones, were eliminated. A double process was therefore taking place: magnification of the essential stimuli and, at the same time, elimination of the inessential ones. In the experiment this was done merely to demonstrate that the red spots alone were sufficient to trigger the reaction. Nevertheless, taking this step must also have helped in focusing more attention on the red spots by removing irrelevancies. With many human super-normal stimuli this dual process has been employed with great effect. It can be expressed as an additional, subsidiary principle for the Stimulus Struggle:

  This states that when selected stimuli are magnified artificially to become super-normal stimuli, the effect can be further enhanced by reducing other (non-selected or irrelevant) stimuli. By simultaneously creating sub-normal stimuli in this way, the super-normal stimuli appear relatively stronger. This is the principle of stimulis extremism.