dominance

Leadership

October 1, 2021 by J.B.

Jamie has always held a dominant position in her group but she’s generally not what one would consider a leader. Leaders don’t scream and throw fits when they don’t get their way or harbor grudges for days only to attack without provocation (see: Missing Toe, Jody). Jamie’s drive to be on top is fueled by a deep insecurity and the mantle of leader never quite fits.

Until she steps out onto the hill.

Once she crosses the threshold of the raceway, she emerges as someone else entirely. She supports her friends when they are scared or anxious. She bears the burden, often single-handedly, or protecting her home and family. It’s a version of Jamie almost unseen within the confines of the greenhouse and playroom walls, where petty squabbles for food puzzles and attention from humans dominate.

So many examples of leadership in our own species are born from moments or situations that are larger than ourselves. Perhaps it is just as true for Jamie. Outside, there are cows to supervise, snakes to kill, and boundaries to patrol. There’s a vast and constantly changing horizon. The world is bigger out there and it requires cooperation and teamwork to manage. And a team needs a leader.

Once the outside world is sufficiently conquered, however, she calls dibs on all the raisin boards. Touch one and she will scream.

Dominance(?)

October 6, 2019 by Anthony

Among captive chimpanzees, the concept of dominance can be a bit of an enigma. As we attempt to integrate the two groups of chimpanzee residents here at the sanctuary, we are having many discussions about the dominance hierarchy. Dominance isn’t the only important thing during this stressful time, but it’s still important.

In the Merriam-Webster dictionary, the adjective dominant can be defined as:

commanding, controlling, or prevailing over all others
very important, powerful, or successful
overlooking and commanding from a superior position

These definitions, among others, can each paint a different picture of what it means to “be dominant.” Primatologists tend to use the word in relation to social rank (i.e., where an individual fits within their group’s hierarchy in relation to other individuals). In primates and many other social animals, there is abundant research on the topic of social rank and the benefits that a high rank confers. By having more opportunities to mate and obtain resources, higher-ranking individuals tend to have a greater chance at reproducing and passing on their genetic material. In this way, traits that help an individual achieve a higher social rank can be heavily advantageous. In most primate species, males and females form separate hierarchies and compete within, not between, the sexes. although the resulting structure is often clear, the mechanisms by which dominance hierarchies develop and change are complex.

Studies of free-ranging chimpanzees (e.g., Dr. Jane Goodall’s) have revealed that males and females have somewhat separate social hierarchies. Generally, adult males vie for higher rank using a combination of physical aggression, explosive displays and tactful cooperation. Adult females develop higher rank through experience and tenure. The lowest of the adult males is still usually higher than the highest female. In a community of chimps, males seem to figure out their place in the social hierarchy during adolescence.

Dominance isn’t everything though. A chimpanzee who has a dominant personality may be deficient in other aspects. There’s another component of social rank, perhaps best described as leadership, that seems to affect how long a chimp can hold the rank of alpha after climbing their way to the top. Without an ability to gain the trust of others and manage friendships, a quick, brutal ascension may result in a tragic end. Deposed alpha males can be killed or driven out by their former peers. (For more on this topic, I recommend the fascinating talk by author and primatologist Dr. Frans de Waal.)

If chimps always fought each other in peer-to-peer physical combat, dominance would be easier to study. However, chimpanzees have many ways of diffusing tension and avoiding conflict. They often do this by communicating with one another, thereby establishing boundaries and outlining expectations for how their relationships are going to be in the near future.

Instead of focusing on rare acts of violence, scientists can usually infer social rank by observing pant-grunts. A pant-grunt is a guttural vocalization, often accompanied by an exaggerated bow and/or submissive hand gesture, that is specifically directed from a subordinate towards a perceived superior. It’s a conspicuous overture and leaves little room for debate. When a mother chimpanzee pant-grunts at an adult male, her dependent infant will sometimes pant-grunt in synchrony while clinging to her belly. When a former alpha male concedes that he has lost his position to a rival male, the passing of the torch is usually marked by a conciliatory pant-grunt. Although chimps have numerous cultural traditions that vary between populations, pant-grunts can be heard in almost every chimpanzee social group, captive or otherwise.

Willy B watches another interaction while eating his own food

The Cle Elum Seven are no different. Burrito, although he lacks a dominant personality and seems uninterested in leadership, sporadically receives pant-grunts from the females (even Jamie). Pant-grunts between the six females are rare, although I sometimes see Negra receive them from her peers. Aside from Negra, who generally avoids drama, we usually infer that Jamie is the most dominant female based on her aggressive demeanor and possessiveness. When a situation gets hairy, Jamie’s side is usually the side to be on. Like Burrito, though, Jamie appears to be a poor leader. As Jake’s study of their dominance hierarchy indicated, Jamie’s excessive dominance and unusual social behavior may actually prevent her from being a good leader.

Negra peruses a magazine for peanut butter smears

Rather than constantly beating back rivals and taking their food, an effective leader quashes conflicts before they start and often allows minor transgressions to slide. For example, when the new three arrived, Willy B showed tolerance and tenderness towards his female companions. They, in turn, groomed and acknowledged him. That’s why, as J.B. has often said, we’re hoping that Willy B will step up to be a good alpha, thus providing some stability. So far, Willy B has not revealed himself to be a tyrant or a bully, so he may be the keystone individual that CSNW needs to have a cohesive, stable chimpanzee community.

Mave grooms Willy B the day after their arrival.

With Jody, Annie and Missy now in a state of cohabitation with the new three, they have all been cautious and submissive towards Willy B. In turn, Willy has remained stoic amid all the drama. He seems to be equally interested in the new surroundings and still focuses on his favorite foods. He’s observant and reserved, but not overly reactive. All he has to do is sit there and the females will pant-grunt at him anyway. Of course, it sometimes helps to acknowledge their efforts, but he certainly doesn’t over-do it.

Somewhat surprisingly, the other females have also been submissive towards Mave. It’s possible that, in the absence of fellow males, Mave has evolved into Willy’s biggest supporter. She is definitely playing a peacekeeper role, and may be helping Willy B to keep his alpha status. It will be interesting to see whether Burrito and Jamie, who are both relatively dominant, recognize Willy as their leader. There may be some drama before we get to that point, but the goal is to give the chimps what they need to form a sustainable and healthy social group.

Willy B (male, left) and Mave (female, right)

During a sweet moment, Honey B gingerly places the end of a firehose vine in Jody’s mouth. Two two seem to view each other as peers and have been exchanging frequent overtures

The tell

March 15, 2019 by J.B.

Chimpanzee communication involves many overt and unmistakable expressions, from eardrum-piercing pant hoots to boisterous dominance displays, but much of what they convey is far more subtle. This morning, as the chimps were being invited to shift enclosures for breakfast, the routine ground to a halt. Negra would not come inside from the greenhouse, even when presented with bowl of peanuts. Jody kept glancing over her shoulder. And Annie sat in the doorway from the playroom, clearly interested in breakfast but unwilling to commit.

I looked towards Burrito. Sitting quietly on a bench with his hands folded in his lap, he was the picture of calm.

Or was he?

Here’s why chimpanzees would be terrible at poker. As soon as they had a good hand, their hair would stand on end and their skin would be riddled with goosebumps, betraying their excitement. Piloerection, as it is known, is the ultimate tell, a dead giveaway for a chimps’ internal state.

Behind Burrito’s otherwise calm demeanor was a simmering cauldron of testosterone, adrenaline, and pent up frustration (due in large part to Jody’s tumescent backside). The chimps could read this from a mile away. The fuse had been lit and everyone was waiting for the bomb to go off.

They were, of course, correct in their assessment, and we soon took a five-minute break from serving breakfast while Burrito rattled the cage doors and occasionally lunged at anyone nearby. Once he got it out of his system, everyone finished shifting and we got on with the day.

A Hug and a High-Five

November 18, 2017 by J.B.

Jody had some enthusiastic greetings for her friends this morning…

The other side

September 19, 2015 by Diana

It would be easy to compare groups of chimpanzees to the mafia. Or to middle school cliques, for that matter.

Sometimes I worry that we don’t talk enough about this side of chimpanzees.

The side that may seem to contradict the gentle, curious, charming, loving moments, like these photos I took today of Foxie, Burrito, and Missy grooming:

Or this photo of Foxie with a Dora doll, out exploring the hill:

It is absolutely the truth that chimpanzees are caring, loving, warm, goofy, playful, and amazing. And it is absolutely the truth that chimpanzees are brutal, violent, scheming, and dangerous. Often, it is the very bonds that they exhibit with one another that is the flip side of their capacity for violence.

It’s just like humans, when you think about it.

We, like them, constantly separate ourselves into groups – whether the group is a biological family, a mob family, a nation, or a preteen clique. This separation, by definition, means there are those in the group, and then there are those out of the group.

Humans, like chimpanzees and other primates, develop a loyalty to our chosen or assigned group – a need to protect the group from outsiders or any potential harm and a drive to defend our collective territory and resources.

In many ways, I admire this when I observe it in the chimpanzees at the sanctuary. Take Missy, for example. You might not know this, but this 100 pound petite goofball of a chimpanzee can be extremely intimidating:

Missy will defend her group, and Jamie, the group leader, like no one I’ve seen before. When the chimpanzees first arrived in 2008, the humans were definitely the out-group, and Missy reminded us of this frequently. If we attempted (innocently) to pick up dropped food on our side of the caging, Missy would come flying out of nowhere, land directly in front of our face clinging to the caging, scream, and shake the steel. The other chimpanzees would immediately back her up and join in by threat barking and screaming and sometimes spitting water (Jody would almost always go to a fountain and get a huge mouthful of water).

It wasn’t a good feeling when this happened, but I felt it was good sign. First of all – these seven chimpanzees had every right to hate humans. They didn’t hate us, but they certainly had that right based on their past treatment by our species. Second – it really illustrated how solid they were as a group, and these instances probably helped them feel more united in this strange new home.

Missy rarely jumps at us these days. After a few months or maybe a year or so, she seemed to feel less threatened by us. I pick up food in front of her and Jamie all the time, and she now knows I’m just going to give it to her once I pick it up. Plus I’ve learned on an individual basis what each of the chimpanzees is comfortable with, and what they aren’t.

New caregivers have to be more cautious. Trust is not automatic – it has to be earned between primates. And caregivers have to always be on our toes. I know plenty of humans who have been injured by chimpanzees; it happens in a fraction of a second.

We have many rules in place and a very extensive training period for new caregivers. Our basic philosophy is to never put ourselves in a place or position where we can be hurt.

We have a deep respect for each of the chimpanzees – all sides of them, and it’s not our job to try to fit them into our rules of behavior, but rather to respect theirs.

Hierarchy

September 26, 2014 by J.B.

Yesterday, during the party, Negra and Jody found themselves eating from the same pinata.

Negra, being dominant to Jody, decides that she’d rather not share. As Negra pulls the pinata away from Jody, Jody gets upset and begins to just slightly bare her teeth out of fear. Negra then displays a facial expression known as a full open grin. As you can see, her upper and lower lips are drawn all the way back, exposing all of her large and powerful teeth. This is a sign of fear or excitement, and is often seen when social conflict breaks out.

Jody responds with a full closed grin. Her lips are drawn back like Negra’s, but her jaw is closed. She is upset that Negra has pulled rank, so she goes to Burrito and Foxie for reassurance.

After being reassured by Burrito and receiving a kiss and a hug from Foxie, Jody returns to Negra, who offers her an extended arm in reconciliation. Jody accepts.

And the Queen gets the pinata.

As it should be.

This is all very similar to the conflict we showed a couple of weeks ago, but in this case all of the behavior was ritualized and no one was harmed in the process. As aggressive as they may be, chimpanzees are also very good at negotiating peaceful settlements to their disagreements. Part of this is due to their dominance hierarchies, which can help predetermine the outcome of smaller skirmishes without the need for fighting.

We mentioned before on this blog how difficult it can be to describe the dominance hierarchy at CSNW. One reason is that these seven chimpanzees had little social experience before coming to the sanctuary. They had to start figuring out how to be chimpanzees when they were already well into adulthood, with no role models to emulate and no culture to absorb – just seven misfits trying to figure things out as they went along.

But another explanation is that the majority of the Cle Elum Seven are female, and in the wild, the hierarchy amongst females is often less linear than it is for males. In some communities, the females seem to be ranked in broad groups rather than by the individual.

I would say that is true for the Cle Elum Seven. It’s clear that Jamie, Negra, Jody, and Burrito are dominant individuals, but among them, it’s not always clear how they are ranked. The hierarchy is complex, fluid, and context-dependent. For example, Burrito’s dominance displays are respected and tolerated by all of the females, but Jamie can steal his lunch with impunity. Jamie gets upset when Jody gets a hold of prized food, but she is not always successful in her attempts to steal it away. Negra always submits to Burrito, but she steals from Jamie and Jody. Honestly, it can get confusing.

Nevertheless, we refer to Jamie as the alpha of the group because she regularly fights for dominance and usually gets her way. Negra, on the other hand, seems to earn respect without trying.

All she wants is her night bags, a quiet nap, and occasionally, someone else’s pinata.

When the going gets tough

September 4, 2014 by J.B.

There’s always been a lot of tension between Jamie and Jody. Though Jamie is the alpha of the Cle Elum Seven, she’s never been secure in her leadership. She views everyone as a potential threat to her status as leader, and every action they take as a potential sign of disrespect. Jody, however, is strong willed and independent, and she refuses to submit to Jamie’s incessant demands for obedience.

Most of the mealtime conflicts here at CSNW follow the same script: Jody takes food that is rightfully hers. Jamie is upset that Jody took food. Jamie screams for ten minutes straight while following Jody around and demanding the food.

In their first few years at the sanctuary, Jody would break down and acquiesce. But over time she discovered that Jamie was more bark than bite, so she learned to hang onto the food in contention. And just the other day, when Jamie began her screaming routine over a piece of celery, Jody decided that she’d had enough, and she chased Jamie out onto Young’s Hill. Jamie was forced to take refuge on a climbing structure while Jody returned to the greenhouse to enjoy her celery in peace.

This one interaction doesn’t mean that Jody has taken over the alpha position in the group. She just doesn’t seem to have the drive or the backing to follow through with it. But it’s a good example of why the two might not always enjoy each others company.

Unless, that is, there is trouble afoot.

This morning, Jody was spooked by something out on the hill.

The others sensed her alarm and began to gather around.

But Jody wasn’t looking for their help. She knew exactly who she needed on her side in a situation like this.

She walked down the hill to meet Jamie, who was just coming out to check on the commotion. As soon as they met, Jody offered Jamie a kiss and embraced her in a request for reassurance.