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intelligence

Doll Head Screwdriver

April 14, 2025 by J.B. 12 Comments

We love when the chimps find comfort or enjoyment in human toys—so long as they’re safe, of course. While all new toys are checked by two staff members to ensure they will withstand the chimps’ strength and destructiveness, everyone once and a while they chimps are able to, um, modify their toys in ways we didn’t anticipate. Let’s just be thankful that the building isn’t held together with doll head screws.

 

Filed Under: Dolls, Enrichment, Intelligence, Jamie, Latest Videos Tagged With: chimpanzee, doll, Enrichment, intelligence, Jamie, northwest, rescue, Sanctuary, tool use

Intelligent Life

March 11, 2024 by J.B.

I was initially drawn to chimpanzees for the same reason that people search for life on other planets: The belief that we could not possibly be alone. How strange would it be if, in this vast and complex web of living things, of a nearly infinite variety, we were the only ones with a consciousness of any significance? If we were the only ones that planned for the future, desired for that which we didn’t have, strategized for power, loved our friends and families, or appreciated beauty? If there was evidence of continuity to be found, surely it would be found in chimpanzees. And in many ways, the study of chimpanzees over the last hundred years has in fact been a century-long lesson in humility, for in nearly every domain of human virtue that we once claimed as uniquely our own, chimpanzees have shown at least some degree of proficiency: Tool use, language, cooperation, problem-solving, empathy, memory, perspective-taking…even politics, if politics could still be considered virtuous. All stand as evidence of a complex mind that, when viewed in light of our shared evolutionary history, must operate something like our own, must feel something like our own. Perhaps we are not alone, after all.

This emphasis on the social, cognitive, and ethical qualities that we value was in many ways a necessary correction to the thousands of years of human chauvinism ingrained in our intellectual and popular culture. We have been, in a sense, working to rescue chimpanzees from ourselves by elevating them, albeit reluctantly.

I must admit, though, that somewhere along the way my own perspective started to change. If we are honestly and openly curious about the intelligence and conscious experience of other animals, why search for only those qualities that we exhibit rarely, if ever? Why hold them to a standard that we can only hope to achieve on our best days? If we truly are not alone, we will certainly find them down in the muck with us, too. Because brains do not contain a one-way valve through which our more advanced capacities operate. Once acquired, these capacities are free to operate in every domain and in every direction, for better or for worse. Put simply, a complex brain can do bad things with greater complexity. A mind with the ability to cooperate can also cheat, and has reason to seek retribution against cheaters. A mind that can empathize can also betray. A mind that can long for something or someone is bound to become jealous and resentful. And a mind that can contemplate the future can be stricken with anxiety about things that do not and may not ever exist. Intelligence is not in and of itself a virtue, but merely a scaffold with which to build ever more elaborate behaviors and emotions of all kinds.

To be fair, authors of popular works of primatology have discussed all of these things in detail, from backstabbing political dramas to mother-daughter serial killers. But these lessons feel lost sometimes. So let me share a couple stories about the minds that inhabit this sanctuary and the ways in which their experience of the world is perhaps even closer to our own than we’d care to admit.

Jamie is an insecure leader. Leader isn’t even the right term, really. Alpha. The Boss. Decider of All Things. A leader inspires trust and support, and exerts power judiciously. A leader seeks stability and order, and strives to protect the less powerful. Jamie, on the other hand…

Jamie’s MO is simple: if she’s not getting what she wants, she either a) throws feces, or b) screams. Throwing feces is reserved for staff, volunteers, and visitors. Some chimps catch on pretty quickly to the fact that most humans would rather have their finger bitten off than be showered in fresh, wet poop. It’s so effective that we are powerless to extinguish the behavior. We encourage people not to react when chimps spit on them, because the reaction only reinforces the behavior. But try not reacting when feces gets in your hair or goes down your ear canal. She’s so aware of her power that sometimes all she has to do is make eye contact, then slowly direct her gaze to a nearby pile, and then once again lock eyes. Step away from the door controls or you and I both know what happens next. Being a sanctuary, our default position is to accommodate the chimps as much as possible, so we follow Jamie’s direction whenever we can. But really, what else are we going to do? On rare occasions, when circumstances required, we have made elaborate ponchos and helmets out of old blankets to withstand the fecal flak coming through the caging as we rushed to operate a door or retrieve an item within her range. But this makes her really mad, because she knows she’s been outmaneuvered. And that makes her feel powerless. And for Jamie, powerlessness is the worst of all feelings.

Screaming, on the other hand, is reserved for her chimpanzee family. Here’s an example: It’s dinnertime, and Jamie has received all of her meal. But Foxie has the gall to also want to eat. When Foxie takes her portion, Jamie summons a scream to wake the dead. Foxie has less than a second to decide whether she should abandon the food and run or take it and risk an aggressive conflict. More often than not, Jamie’s screaming elicits a group-wide melee, with Missy blindly taking Jamie’s side and the others trying in vain to stay out of the fray. Whether Jamie gets the food in the end or not is irrelevant – depriving Foxie was the goal.

Insecurity is a real crap sandwich. First of all, it feels awful. But on top of that it often makes you behave in ways that only feed back into a greater sense of insecurity. It’s the death spiral of emotions. The dynamics of Jamie’s group have changed since Jody’s death. It’s not like it was a fairy tale to begin with, especially back when Burrito was still a testosterone-driven tornado. But they had established a certain order, loose as it was. Jody’s absence should have made Jamie feel more secure, as she seemed to perceive Jody as her greatest rival. Jody was, after all, well-loved and respected by the rest of her group mates. But the vacuum left by Jody’s absence has only resulted in an uptick in Jamie’s, shall we say, darker side, one which our cooperative feeding training struggles to keep up with.

The problem with maintaining power through intimidation, volatility, and capriciousness is that no one is rooting for you to remain in power. What if they’re just waiting for you to slip up? What if they are even silently conspiring against you? All the more reason to remind them who’s in charge.

And down the spiral we go…

I’ve always maintained that if Jamie was a human and was not a member of my immediate family, I wouldn’t want anything to do with her. If any human treated me the way she treats those around her, I’d be out the door. But I love her. More than anything. Maybe more than any other chimp I’ve known, depending on the day you ask. Maybe it’s because she’s been treated so unfairly and remains imprisoned, and this is how she perseveres. Or maybe it’s because, since she’s not human, I’m able to appreciate her as a whole person with less judgment; to admire the directions in which her capacious mind has traveled in its efforts to find meaning and purpose. There’s a richness to Jamie that I can’t help but stand in awe of.

Willy B is a lot of things. He’s big, handsome, intimidating, sometimes playful, sometimes goofy, but mostly…anxious. Anxious and overwhelmed. He’s scared to walk on grass. He’s a wreck in most social situations. He often seeks refuge in quiet, familiar corners where he can just be alone, as if he just needs to press pause on the world for a while so his brain has a moment to settle.

The problem for Willy B is that he is a member of a species for which sociality is everything—for which friendships and alliances are currency. A male like him has to stake out a position in the hierarchy, and that requires one or both of the following: Being tough, or being social.

Willy B is not tough. He looks the part, but in 99% of the conflicts I’ve seen him involved in, he is the one running away screaming. If push comes to shove he can more than hold his own, but he doesn’t want to fight. He just wants you to think he could. And when the tables are turned on him, he usually hides behind someone stronger or braver who is willing to defend him as he prays for the fight to end.

Despite his social difficulties, Willy was fortunate to immediately make the one friend that really mattered: his alpha male, Cy. When they first met, Willy and Cy spent the first couple weeks trying to figure each other out. When they were together during introductions, one-on-one, their relative status was a tossup. But in the greater group, there was no question. Cy had a loyal, established group behind him, and plenty of social skills to boot. Willy had no choice but to submit. But it didn’t seem like something Willy had to work hard to accept. He really admires Cy. And he craves Cy’s attention. Spending time with another male, something he hadn’t been able to do in years, seemed to give Willy new life.

But dyadic relationships, as complicated as they are, are comparatively easy to navigate. There’s me, there’s you, and there’s us. That’s it. Add in a third person and suddenly there’s…them. Add in even more people and you create a dizzying patchwork of coteries, cliques, and communities. Circles within circles. An intelligent mind can’t help but start to ruminate on all the possibilities: What are they doing? Why are they doing it without me? Should I join them? Do they want me to join them? One theory holds that larger brain-body mass ratios evolved to help keep track of these complex social connections. At times this feels like the first frayed thread in the brain’s fabric, and still the most vulnerable to being torn.

Thanks in large part to Cy, Willy has a pretty firm lock on the #2 position in his group. But like Jamie, he can’t seem to leave well enough alone. He appears comfortable in one-on-one interactions with everyone, but as things get more complicated he gets overwhelmed, directing mild but persistent threats to the lower-ranking males in the group, Terry and Gordo. And if Cy isn’t giving him enough attention, or if—God forbid—Cy directs his attention to the other males at the wrong time, Willy launches into a self-defeating fit, seemingly choosing to blow the whole place up rather than attempt the difficult task of finding his own place in the group. In reality, no one has it out for him, and if he could just turn the volume on that big brain down for a second, and literally do nothing, he’d be fine. Instead, he short-circuits, explodes, and then wonders why it’s so damn hard to fit in.

If I ever get frustrated with Willy B, it helps to watch the home movies we have showing him in the laboratory nursery. There he is, in a set of toddler’s overalls designed to keep his diapers in place, looking around nervously for someone to hold him. It’s not that he never stood a chance—somehow, other chimps made it out with far superior social skills—but we each have our unique vulnerabilities. Maybe if Willy had been raised by his mother instead of technicians, if he had lived a life in the wild instead of a cage, he would have an easier time understanding other people. Or maybe not. We’ll never know. That he’s come this far is victory enough.

Twenty-five years ago, I began a life and career with chimpanzees with the hope of seeing what new and exciting thresholds they would cross, whether it be in art or technology, culture or cognition, in their race to join our virtuous circle. These days I am just as curious to discover how their own big brains have saddled them with inescapable bouts of sadness, anxiety, pettiness, jealousy, vengefulness, insecurity, and general confusion about how to exist in a hopelessly messy world. Because these are not qualities to be spoken of in hushed tones or swept under the rug in pursuit of discoveries more noble or virtuous. These, too, are signs of intelligent life.

And today I am even more certain of two things. First, we are most certainly not alone. And second, if big-brained aliens do ever visit us, they are sure to be carrying a lot of psychological and emotional baggage, too.

Filed Under: Chimpanzee Behavior, Intelligence, Jamie, Sanctuary, Willy B Tagged With: chimpanzee, emotion, insecurity, intelligence, northwest, rescue, Sanctuary

Mirror Mania

February 4, 2024 by Amanda Hathaway

Chimpanzee intelligence is well-known and a specific aspect of their intelligence that I find particularly fascinating is their awareness of self as separate from others, or ‘theory of mind’. A classic experiment used to test for theory of mind in animals is the mirror test whereby a mark is placed on the face or some other body part of an animals and then they are presented with a mirror. If the animal notices the mark and reaches towards their own face instead of the one in the mirror, this indicates that they are aware that the image in the mirror is themself and not another animal. This works on a number of species we all recognize to be intelligent like elephants, dolphins, and the great apes while, interestingly, other nonhuman primates like monkeys, will fail this test. Human children typically begin to pass the mirror test around the age of two.

I’ve always enjoyed watching chimpanzees look at themselves in the mirror. Some are more interested than others in their own reflections, usually picking at marks or scabs on their face and head, opening their mouths to inspect their teeth and tongue, and sometimes making faces at themselves. Are they amused? Are they curious? What’s happening in those minds?!

To celebrate this endearing behavior, I’ve decided to put together a compilation of photos and videos of the chimps at CSNW looking at their own beautiful faces. Enjoy!

Filed Under: Burrito, Chimpanzee, Chimpanzee Behavior, Dispaying, Foxie, Honey B, Intelligence, Jamie, Mave, Missy, Negra, Sanctuary, Willy B Tagged With: Burrito, Foxie, Honey B, intelligence, Jamie, Mave, mirror, mirror recognition, Missy, reflection, self-awareness, Willy B

Jamie is not “most chimpanzees”

March 26, 2021 by J.B.

This morning, I was sweeping paper and other garbage into a pile in the playroom when Jamie started gesturing towards to me. It’s typical of her to ask for drinks from the hose while we clean but we hadn’t pulled the hose out yet. I soon realized that she was gesturing towards the pile of garbage, and upon closer inspection I saw that I had swept up some torn out and crumpled pages from one of her boot books. She wasn’t done with those yet! I picked them up and she ran excitedly to the day nest she had made in the corner of one of the front rooms. As I handed the pages to her, she emitted a low moan and stuffed them into her pelvic pocket.

Later, while scrubbing the floors, Diana pointed towards Jamie in the front rooms and suggested that I come take a look. She had filled a bucket with water from the lixit fountain, dumped her primate chow into the water, and was stirring the concoction with a plastic tube. She then used to tube to sip the chow water from the bucket and emitted a low moan each time she popped a soaked chow biscuit into her mouth.

She’s definitely her own person. So it should have come as no surprise when Diana caught Jamie taking carrot-peeling matters into her own hands the other day.

Filed Under: Boots, Enrichment, Intelligence, Jamie, Latest Videos Tagged With: chimpanzee, intelligence, Jamie, northwest, rescue, Sanctuary, tool use

Cleaning Up

February 21, 2020 by J.B.

Honey B, like many other sanctuary chimpanzees, enjoys cleaning. Last week, we did a “deep clean” of one of her indoor enclosures and spent time scrubbing the track to the door that leads to the upstairs play area. Honey B watched us intently and later decided that the door track needed just a bit more work.

Filed Under: Enrichment, Honey B, Intelligence, Latest Videos Tagged With: chimpanzee, cleaning, intelligence, northwest, rescue, Sanctuary, tool use

Grape Thief

November 29, 2019 by J.B.

The girls have been so sweet towards Burrito during his recovery. You know things are returning to normal when they stop doting on him and start trying to take advantage of him.

Filed Under: Burrito, Intelligence, Jamie, Latest Videos Tagged With: Burrito, chimpanzee, intelligence, Jamie, northwest, rescue, Sanctuary, tool use

Progress

October 4, 2019 by J.B.

Have I told you how much I like Mave?

Today, as I was cleaning, I watched Honey B and Annie start to play. At this point in the process we are thrilled when previously unfamiliar chimps engage in play, but this made my heart stop. Annie is extremely insecure and she has a tendency to overreact at the slightest provocation, real or imagined. Long-time blog readers may remember some early difficulties between Annie and Foxie for just this reason. Honey B, on the other hand, is very confident – so confident, in fact, that she doesn’t bother to think about how others might perceive her actions. Add to the mix the fact that she shows her top teeth when playing and has already gone out of her way to assert her dominance over Annie already and you could see where this was going to end up. The game turned from a slow-motion chase to a raucous tickle fight, and before long Honey B had wrestled Annie into a corner.

We have a policy of not interacting with the chimps during critical periods of the introduction process because the chimps may see us as a source of support when in fact we are of no help at all on the other side of the caging if and when things go south. But as I watched Honey B hover over Annie, I involuntarily whispered, “OK, Honey B, that’s enough,” perhaps hoping that if I just put it out there into the universe it would manifest. And at that moment, Mave walked all the way across the room and wiggled her way between the two without engaging either. Mave plays everything close to the vest, and she made it appear as if she had somewhere to be and was just shuffling though. But I know that she saw the train wreck coming, too.

That kind of social intelligence is invaluable for this group right now. And when it comes wrapped in a such a big, fuzzy package, how can you not fall in love?

OK, enough about Mave (for now).

We saw a lot of progress today. There were fewer arguments and no injuries. And the arguments they did have seemed less related to interpersonal dominance struggles and more to do with overall anxiety and misinterpreted behavior. Just as importantly, we saw a lot of affiliative interactions. Chimps from different families reassured each other during moments of tension. Missy and Annie even spent some time grooming Willy B in the greenhouse.

The girls are both scared of and awed by him and they greet him with elaborate submissive gestures. He has largely avoided them but he is beginning to accept their submission more readily. He even went out of his way to groom Jody this afternoon (until Annie started screaming).

The group has been getting more comfortable at mealtime, which requires them to be in closer proximity with the potential for competition over food, though we definitely bring enough for everyone. Jody seemed pleased to get a spot next to the big man at lunch.

The big man, however, is a little more focused on food right now.

Overall, the new three seem to be incredibly comfortable while Missy, Annie, and to some extent Jody, continue to show signs of anxiety. And that’s understandable – they have been separated from many of the chimps that they have always relied on for support. Missy is always Jamie’s Number 2 and Annie always relies on Missy’s steadiness when things get tough. Now that we’ve tinkered with the group, the dynamics have changed.

But this was done to protect Honey B, Willy B, and Mave and so far it seems like a wise choice. That’s the thing about introductions, though – you can always make a plausible argument for doing it differently. Should chimps meet one-on-one or in groups? Should they first spend time with each other separated by mesh or does that only lead to frustration? Should introductions be done over the course of a week or over six months to a year? Should dominant chimps be integrated first, last, or in the middle? Should overly anxious chimps be medicated to help calm them? How severe does an injury need to be to stop the process? While there is some science to inform our decisions, there are simply too many facility designs and too many chimpanzee personalities in this world to be able to rely on a formula.

So we’ll continue to take this one day at a time and rely on Mave to lead the way.

Filed Under: Intelligence, Introductions, Introductions Tagged With: chimpanzee, intelligence, introductions, northwest, rescue, Sanctuary

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