Like
the rest of the internet, I’ve been thinking a lot about Cecil the lion the last week or two. Lured from the safety of his wilderness sanctuary and shot with a bow and arrow, his majestic head paraded on Facebook by a dentist who should have been back home harmlessly drilling someone’s cavities, Cecil’s death has prompted grief and outrage on a scale we may not have seen since Lady Di. There were calls for the American dentist to be hanged. His practise was picketed by furious protestors. Petitions jammed Change.org and talkback in the US went ballistic.
Meanwhile, a Zimbabwean student in the US, Goodwell Nzou, wrote an article for the New York Times that caught my eye.
“My mind was absorbed by the biochemistry of gene editing when the text messages and Facebook posts distracted me.
“So sorry about Cecil.”
“Did Cecil live near your place in Zimbabwe?”
(Only natural. Zimbabwean. Must have lived near the lion.)
Nzou went on to explain that Zimbabweans do not cry for lions. Lions menace villagers, he wrote, sucking the joy out of life for those who can no longer sit beside their fires, walk safely to school or protect their crops. While animals are sacred to many Africans, they tend not to romanticize them the way we westerners do. His conclusion?
“We Zimbabweans are left shaking our heads, wondering why Americans care more about African animals than about African people… please, don’t offer me condolences about Cecil unless you’re also willing to offer me condolences for villagers killed or left hungry by his brethren, by political violence, or by hunger.”
Bam. Nzou nailed a thought that had been niggling away at me for days.
How is it possible for us to tweet our thumbs raw about one lion when every single day thousands of actual people die? Surely many of the children are just as “cute” as Cecil? Why do we appear to care more about African animals than people?
I thought about having a rant on this topic and then I decided it might be just as productive to explore some other things we learn from the Cecil experience.
One of the first things I think Cecil highlights is that we’re emotional creatures (duh!), and this often triumphs – at least initially – over reason. Deep down we know that African animals aren’t as important as African people. At least some of us probably also realize that on the same day as Cecil died, 21,000 flesh and blood people died from hunger. It’s just that on that particular day, none of them were wearing a majestic mane, had soulful eyes or were paraded on Facebook slumped at the feet of a fat, grinning tooth-torturer.
A huge number of our reactions in this life aren’t purely rational. They’re emotional – or at least a messy mix of both head and heart. But here is a simple case of a ‘beloved’ and innocent creature killed by a bad man – the stuff of fairy tales – and the emotions are uncomplicated. Nobody but the dentist is responsible for this evil. (And we never liked dentists anyway.) Later on, sure, we probably realized we all got it a tiny bit out of perspective but at the time… emotional.
And we’re like that. It reminds me that no matter what the situation, emotion plays a huge part in our reactions. We not only have to adjust for this at the time, it’s useful for us to think about it beforehand, particularly if we’re tackling something unpleasant.
Mornings, for example, are never particularly easy at our place (well… for half of us). We moderate with upbeat music to enhance mood. Similarly there’s no way we’d attempt piano practise without a soothing episode of H20 beforehand; we don’t dive into Maths Tutoring without a cup of tea and a humorous debrief of the day to sweeten the entry point. We cuddle cats (except Doug…. Doug. Doesn’t. Do. Cats.) Emotional stability is important for everything from getting homework done to talking about why things aren’t going quite so well at school. And I’m a fan of sniffing the wind constantly to figure out where the emotional socks whiff so that we can execute a quick change. When our emotions are off, so is our thinking.
It’s pretty much impossible to overestimate the centrality of emotion as a determinant of behaviour in everything from children in classrooms to spouses in arguments to entire populations reacting to the murder of lions. I’m not by any means saying the emotion isn’t justified. I’m saying we ignore emotional environments – and the opportunity to be pro-active about controlling them – at our own peril. There’s a lot we can do to help set the mood to make things easier for everyone – so that good decisions are made and harmony prevails. In our homes, relationships, offices – what creates the best environment for goodwill and productivity and how do we help create it?
The other thing I think Cecil demonstrates is that big issues need small focus points. Cecil’s death was so powerful because he was one lion with a name. Many people don’t care about the widespread extinction of whole species. It’s too big. They care about Cecil – a lion with a name and a face.
It’s the same with anything, really. Ring me up and ask me to donate to help the 34,000 sufferers of cerebral palsy in Australia and you’ll probably get a polite hang up. Phone me to ask for $105 to customize a wheelchair for Max, who lives in my area and wants to go to school but can’t because his parents can’t afford to make the alterations needed to his chair, and I’m likely to shell out the hundred plus a bit extra for Max’s friend Pip. Suddenly CP has a name and a face. And Max could be my son.
Or try telling your nine year old they really need to “learn their times tables”. Fail. Suggest you’re going to completely nail the eights from one to seven in under thirty seconds tonight and give a demonstration performance when Mum gets home: Win. The huge monster of the Times Table just became a minor beast with an archilles heel – and what’s more, the showdown will have an audience.
Big issue – single focus. One step at a time.
One other thing. Cecil’s defenders gave his champions something really concrete to do with their fury. At worst – hang the dentist (ahem). At best – sign a petition online. And this is pretty vital to any venture involving getting people engaged. Give people something concrete and achievable to do. “This is my problem. I want you to do this. It’s quite specific.”
I can’t help but think here of arguments between spouses or parents and teenagers where one person has a wide ranging complaint – you don’t help enough around the house, you don’t communicate enough, you’re lazy, we don’t spend enough time together, whatever – but there’s no specific directive about what should happen as a result of this outpouring of emotion. What next? People inherently need to take action in response to emotion, I reckon. Online petition for couples? “Sign Colleen’s Change.org petition: Wants Dave to leave toilet seat down in bathroom as a practical expression of love.”
Sometimes I think we’re too afraid to set specific targets in our relationships – with our children or significant others – and really go for them, attempting to improve things. Yet we all thrive on having something specific to aim for, something concrete to do in response to a problem. Otherwise it’s all just emotion and no action. Some of the most successful charities, similarly, are fantastic at engaging their supporters specifically because they give people things to do other than simply give cash. People feel powerful because they can visit the children they sponsor, climb Mt Kilimanjaro to raise money or become an ambassador for refugees.
Don’t just rant at me. Give me something practical to do to create change. And help me measure my progress and stay accountable.
So all up… Cecil, your life and death wasn’t in vain. Hundreds of thousands of people around the world are taking action in various thoughtful ways – for both animals and humans. And hopefully not only in the ways you might expect.
Vale, Cecil.
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