The rhino analogy
September 19th, 2006When I drive my car — yes, I do occasionally drive a car, although I would not boast about my driving abilities — and an inarticulate fellow driver brakes abruptly just in front of me, passes me on the wrong side, or flashes his lights at me when I am peacefully passing a line of slowish trucks, I generally hear the non-driving driver sitting next to me utter a number of barely polite reproaches to the indelicate vehicle, while I am keeping a very cool-headed, totally non-french phlegm. One day I was trying to get the beloved one to calm down, I made up the rhino analogy.
Wrongs unrighted: my rhino analogy
‘Imagine the other vehicle was a rhinoceros. You would not be yelling at him; you would not want me to honk the horn or flash my lights; you would be begging me to gently pull away from the beast, and be glad if we ended up unscathed. I doubt anybody in his/her right mind would chase the rhino to demand an apology for such unruly behaviour. I had better leave an unrepentant rhino on the streets than take a chance in this kind of confrontation.’
What is it with humans and unrighted wrongs ? When a pack of lions eat a newborn gnu from the herd, after a short stampede the herd goes back to its grazing business, with no idea of revenge over the bloodthirsty felines. When an anthill suffers major rain damage after a storm, no ant tries to sue those ant workers who were responsible for maintaining the spillways. When a gannet has its nest looted by a seagull, that’s hard luck — even if the 20,000 gannets in the colony could easily exterminate every sea-gull in the vicinity if they could form such a concept as a retaliatory alliance.
When my car gets beaten up by a grizzly bear at night on a forest parking lot because I left sandwiches in the trunk, I will not lodge a complaint and expect the park rangers to bring the culprit to justice. But if it had been a bunch of bozos with baseball bats that had smashed my windshield, I swear I’d do what it takes to testify against such unchristian thieves and vandals. OK, enough examples, I guess you get the point.
Can’t I just move on ?
Just because my torturer is a fellow human being does not mean seeking revenge or demanding amends is always the best solution. And rather than grieving and brooding over whatever wrongs are still unrighted, why can’t I do as if the torturer was something instead of someone ? Why do I feel such hatred against people and not against animals or things ? Why can’t I forgive the man who burns my house down as I forgive a hurricane that blows my house away, even though I know the huricane will destroy other houses, and its siblings will continue to do so ? I wish I could. Not that anybody has done any harm to me lately, but because I want to be ready when that happens — and I needed to make a point for a future post.
Read on
On the price of peace (probably soon)
We do not really want to live long
An apologia of the scientific mind
I’m totally with you on the rhyno analogy for road rage — as angry as Colombian, Texan, and Utahn drivers usually make me… Baaaad drivers… There is a reason why I’ve slowly but surely come to hate highway driving.
I agree with that piece, just like I would agree with playing cool and letting an armed criminal do his thing, as opposed to seeking revenge right there. However, I can’t just move on when facing the other kinds of examples you mention.
The hurricane destroying my house is not someone I can argue wih, or expect to “behave”. The bozo trying to burn my house down (or steal my work, or hijack my flight), on the other hand, has intelligence and INTENTION… and he or she probably understands the notion of coexistence, however chooses to ruin things for others — for whatever reason… and that is not part of the “circle of life”.
We forgive animals because: 1) we believe most of their actions are driven by instinct; and 2) often times we’re no match for their strength. You can’t really argue with that… Just like you can’t argue with a crying baby. Some times, fellow humans are also driven by instinct, and I guess we also forgive them when that is clear (say a reckless “rhyno” driver trying to get her child to the Emergency Room), but when it is clear that there is an intention to do wrong, I have to say I’m a scorpio… and thank God, I’m not Supreme Judge of planet Earth.
Maria, you are right.
However, my point was (and your comment made it clearer to me) about dissociating the victim and the judge in me. As a victim, I should accept things and events as ‘hard luck’. Then as a judge, I can indeed try to condemn the intention to cause harm. But sometimes, when it is just no use trying to be judge, I’d better stick with being a victim and avoid the torments of grudge and the trap of revenge.
Ah!… Good conclusion. It does sound healthy to consider that perspective some times.