The Inner Life of Animals. Peter Wohlleben
he even pulls feathers out in a frenzy of passion. Then he presses his cloaca against hers and squirts his semen inside. As soon as the act is over—it lasts just a matter of seconds—the hen gets up and gives herself a shake and, at least for the time being, she can return to eating unmolested. But it’s not long before Fridolin’s ardor returns, and because neither hen is interested in joining in, he has to chase them down all over again. The rooster often runs out of steam while pursuing them, and a modicum of peace descends.
But then Fridolin came up with an easier way of getting what he wanted. Fridolin is usually a real gentleman, allowing his little harem first dibs at food. As soon as he spies something tasty, he makes a special clucking sound, and it’s not long before Lotta and Polly rush over and fall upon the food he has found for them. But sometimes there isn’t anything to eat under Fridolin’s feet, and it turns out that the rooster has enticed his hens over with a bald-faced lie. Instead of tasty worms or crunchy seeds, what awaits them is another of Fridolin’s attempts to mate, and—thanks to the element of surprise—his devious plan is often rewarded with success. However, if he tries this trick too often (and with two hens a couple of lies suffice), then both of them become cautious, even when real food is on offer. No one believes a liar, even when he tells the truth...
Other species of birds can also be big fibbers. Take swallows, for example. If a male returns to find his mate is not on the nest, he gives an alarm call. His mate wrongly supposes danger threatens, and she flies back to the nest via the shortest route. The male uses the false alarm call to keep his mate from pursuing dalliances in his absence. Once the eggs have been laid, this is no longer a concern, and the deceitful calls disappear.24
Great tits provide another example. They are widespread in many parts of the world and a number of them are fibbers, for when it comes to food, it’s every bird for itself. These pretty birds with black heads and white cheeks have a sophisticated language they use to warn each other about predators. One of these predators is a small raptor called a sparrowhawk that likes to hunt in backyards. The bird dives down, quick as an arrow, to grab sparrows, robins, and tits, and then flies to the nearest bush to eat them. A great tit that spies the danger from afar warns others of its kind with a high-pitched call. The call is out of the sparrowhawk’s range of hearing, which gives the great tits a chance to slip safely away before the raptor spies them. If, however, the raptor is already dangerously close, the warning is broadcast at lower frequencies, so all the tits know an attack is imminent. The attacker can also hear this deep churring call and immediately realizes that its planned surprise attack isn’t a surprise anymore. It often ends up grabbing thin air because the tits are on the alert. I’m sorry to report that some great tits take advantage of their well-functioning community. If there’s particularly tasty food around or if food is scarce, then the little liars make the usual alarm call. All the birds quickly fly to safety—or almost all. Left alone, the trickster can now eat as much as it likes.
How about cheating on your mate? This form of sexual liaison is also a kind of deception—at least it is when the cheater knows what it is doing. And you can see exactly this with male magpies. Some urban communities consider these handsome black-and-white corvids to be public enemy number one, because they snatch the babies of other songbirds to feed their own young. This behavior puts them in the same league as the squirrels I’ve already talked about. I like to imagine what it would be like if magpies were an endangered species. If that were the case, we would be excited to see them, and we would marvel at how their black feathers shimmer blue-green in the light. Unfortunately, people who appreciate their beauty are few and far between.
But back to cheating. Like other corvids, magpies form pair bonds that last a lifetime. They set themselves up with their partners in a home territory that, like their partnership, lasts for many years. They vigorously defend their home from others of their kind. This is clearly because both partners want to avoid sexual dalliances, because after the eggs have been laid and most of the business of procreation has been accomplished, the zeal with which they defend the boundaries of their territory diminishes considerably. But even before that happens, much of this territorial defense is strictly for show, at least on the part of the males. While the female aggressively drives off any competitors that intrude, her partner is an opportunist. As long as his mate is watching or within earshot, he’ll be just as aggressive in driving off any intruding female. However, if he thinks he’s not being observed, he begins eagerly courting the attractive stranger instead.25
There are, however, other strategies in the animal world that cannot really be called lies, even if this is how they are sometimes described in the media. There are reports of foxes that, in contrast to peacock butterflies, actively fool others. The fox’s hunting repertoire includes playing dead, and a fox may even let its tongue hang out to make the scene more convincing. A corpse out in the open? There are always takers, most often crows, which are happy to help themselves if there’s delicious meat on offer, even when it’s a bit past its prime. In the case of the fox, it’s super fresh—too fresh, as it turns out. Any black-feathered guest that decides to grab a bite suddenly finds itself in the jaws of the wily fox and ends up being the meal instead.26 That is a masterful piece of play acting and definitely a trap, but it is far from being a lie. Lying usually involves deceiving others of your own kind by providing them with false information in order to get an advantage for yourself. The fox is simply following a hunting strategy that is cunning and morally above reproach. The fox is quite different from Fridolin or from the magpie that sneaks a bit on the side, both of which are intentionally pulling a fast one on fellow animals near and dear to them.
No matter how you might judge these cases of trickery from a moral standpoint, I, for one, am moved by them because they show just how intricate the inner lives of animals really are.
8
STOP, THIEF!
IF LYING IS widespread among animals, then what about thievery? A good place to start is by looking at socially oriented animals, because thievery, like lying, has a moral component, and it is judged to be negative only when it is socially relevant and when it adversely impacts other animals of the same species.
When it comes to thievery, the American gray squirrel is a sly one, but before delving into its behavior, let’s check out how it’s doing in Europe, where it has become a serious threat to native red squirrels (which can also be black in color). In 1876, a certain Mr. Brocklehurst from Cheshire, England, took pity on a pair of grays that were being held captive, and he released them. In the years that followed, many dozens of other animal lovers followed his example. The gray squirrels thanked their liberators by reproducing enthusiastically—so enthusiastically that they have now pushed their red European relatives almost to the brink of extinction. Gray squirrels are larger and more robust than their red cousins, and they adapt to any kind of woodland, whether deciduous or coniferous. Even more dangerous for native European squirrels, however, is a stowaway that hitched a ride along with the grays: squirrel poxvirus. Whereas American grays are generally immune to the virus, European red squirrels die in large numbers when they are infected. Unfortunately, not only were grays released in the UK, they were also released in northern Italy in 1948, and since then they have been advancing on the Alps. We don’t know if at some point they’ll manage to scale the mountains and march victorious into the German woods, as well.
Despite all this, I don’t want to characterize gray squirrels as vermin. After all, it’s not their fault they were brought to Europe, and their dominance is not due to their behavior, which brings us back to the topic of thievery. Squirrels sometimes get food by plundering the winter caches of other squirrels. In many cases, they must do this to survive, as the unsuccessful searches in the snow that I observe from my office window every winter attest. A squirrel that cannot remember the location of its caches will starve, and as a last resort, it may help itself to its neighbors’ loot. I don’t know whether European red squirrels have developed a counter-strategy, but researchers discovered that American grays have. A team from Wilkes University in Philadelphia observed gray squirrels digging empty caches. The squirrels did this in clear sight of others of their kind to lead them astray, but only when they thought they were being watched. When the eyes of other squirrels were on them, they dug around a bit in the dirt and pretended to bury something.