Are You a Chimpanzee or a Bonobo?
How often, in the world of business, media, or everyday life, have you heard people’s ruthless behavior justified (either by themselves or others) to be part of human nature? The concept of the “concrete jungle” has long dominated the cityscape, along with its implication that the denizens within must follow the formula of kill or be killed.
Such a cut-throat philosophy is fueled by the theory of social Darwinism and its influence in shaping how we are meant to interact (setting aside how Darwin’s biological model was never meant to apply to human society). Mantras like “only the strong survive” permeate such spheres.
In the jungle, after all, our chimpanzee ancestors played out brutal wars upon one another. Today, we see groups of male-dominated chimps routinely challenge others to the death for territory or resources. Male chimps snatch and eat baby chimps that are seconds old when given the opportunity. Cutting off the future of others by whatever means necessary is clearly acceptable behavior for one of our closest relations.
Compared to such outright savagery, reasoning may follow that we’re much more civilized — so what if so many individuals and families fall through the cracks when those with power continue to actively hoard it?
But chimp-like behavior is a low bar to clear, and it doesn’t justify the actions of modern humans in depriving others who are in need. We did not survive as a species by wiping out our collective future at each opportunity. Along with being false, the myth is a dangerous one.
In fact, humans — in critical, highly influential times — behaved in an entirely different way. Rather than following the behavior of ceaselessly-violent chimpanzees, humans followed the archetype of another primate that similarly shares 99 percent of our DNA: the bonobo.
On the behavior scale, bonobos are as far opposite to the chimpanzee as could be imagined. Bonobo societies are typically led by females; they share their resources within their groups and with “opposing” groups as well. When confronted by a new, unfamiliar group, the most common response is to engage in a picnic and intimate relations to bond the groups’ future together and solidify their shared potential for survival.
Violence does come up in bonobo society — but only when male bonobos are threatening younger bonobos or attempting forceful copulation. At that point, older females aggressively defend the victim and the male quickly desists. No weak individuals are left behind, deprived, or killed by bonobo groups.
As a species, humans have routinely faced extinctions due to climate fluctuations and natural disasters. Outside of such major threats, there were innumerable daily challenges related to acquiring food and shelter or escaping predators. We survived these time periods, again and again, through cooperation and innovation. We met new groups, traded, and intermingled. We did more than survive — we often thrived.
Over the long span of history, we have behaved with intense savagery toward one another. To tell the whole story, though, is to recognize that humans did not get to the point of cut-throat behavior because it is “how we’ve always been” or because it is the natural outcome of civilization. The truth lies in the necessity of caring for the least among us — of recognizing when it is time to bind our shared futures together and move forward as a collective group through the difficulties we are facing.
The choice is our own: Does that 99 percent of you identify more with the chimpanzees or the bonobos? The ensuing alignment of our social birthright as individuals can have a dramatic effect on our behavior as a society.
