Little Girl Gorilla Sociopaths

          “Listen, Ed, about The Plan,” I started, “I’m not sure I like the way we decide upon these adventures.”

            “Really? Why’s that?”

            “Well it’s a bit… random.”

            Ed laughed. “That’s the idea.”

            “Yes, of course. I understand that. But we need more structure don’t we? I mean, we don’t know whether we’re being inspired by song title, lyrics or some other factor. And there’s no particular guide to the type of thing we do either. It just seems to be the first thing that pops into your head!”

            “Sounds good to me.”

            “Yes, but how do we know where we are with it?”

            “Tom, it seems to me you’re missing the point. We specifically don’t want to know ‘where we are’. That’s The Plan.”

            “Hmmmm. Did you sort out the potholing then?”

            “No. I was actually working this last week.”

            “There’s a first. Let’s just head down the underground again then, as I suggested.”

            “What about gorillas?”

            “What about them?”

            “There’re giant gorillas in that Deeper Underground film aren’t there?”

            “I thought they were dinosaurs.”

            “Whatever. Let’s go to the zoo either way.”

            It did seem like a reasonable plan, without any obvious danger attached to it. So we went to the zoo.

 

*

 

            We walked past a bunch of monkeys, on the way to the gorilla enclosure. They seemed happy enough, but it was hard to tell.

            “Do you think they’d rather be free?” I asked.

            “Do you think you are free?” Ed replied.

            “Of course. I can walk away from this zoo and do whatever I like. These monkeys are stuck here behind bars.”

            “Alright. If you think you’re free then why don’t you just go ahead and punch that woman over there.”

            “No. I’ll be arrested.”

            “But it’d be fun. And besides, you’re supposed to be free.”

            “Obviously I’m within the constraints of society.”

            “Are you, really?”

            “Everyone is.”

            “Not quite. Human society has been evolving in the past few thousands years. In every society of animals or men there are evolutionary points of equilibrium. For example, in most human societies there is a more or less equal birth rate between men and women. If it sways one way or the other temporarily then the female population evolves and gives birth to more of the lower density sex.”

            “So?”

            “So… As well as tolerating a fifty percent female population, human society also finds equilibrium with a population consisting of two percent sociopaths.” He paused for dramatic effect.

            “I see.” I said, doubtfully.

            “Now, a sociopath doesn’t live within the moral constraints of society. The only thing that stops him is rational understanding of material consequences. Therefore, if he can see an advantage in an action, and no negative material consequence, then he will freely do it. Thus there are no qualms over violence, dishonesty or good old plain selfishness. He can take every material advantage offered to him.

            “The good of society survives by reciprocal acts of socially conscious people who think: ‘if I act in this way and do good for this person then one day someone else will do good for me too.’ And so everybody lives in harmony. But in such a society it is possible for two percent of the individuals to never do good without breaking down the popular belief in mutual cooperation. These people, therefore, can get everything the rest of us get for no cost, and they are as free as it is possible to be in this day and age.”

            “You sound as though you admire them.”

            “I do.”

            I frowned. We were by the gorillas now and I desired a change of subject. I turned to the nearest gorilla and spoke to it through the bars:

            “What’s your favourite song then eh?”

            “You’re an idiot,” said the high-pitched gorilla, and then I realised it was a little girl standing next to me. “Gorillas can’t speak.”

            “Didn’t your mother teach you never to insult strangers?”

            “No,” said her mother, suddenly behind me, “I told her not to insult strangers unless they merited it and I was nearby.”

            I glanced at her as though at a sociopath. “Riiiight. Anyway. So, little girl, what’s your favourite song then?”

            “S Club Party.”

            “Mmmmm. I might’ve known.”