Field Study

The zoologist sat back, watching their screen intently as they worked, as had been their routine for some time now. They were observing an interesting group of apes and noting down the various complexities, contradictions and eccentricities of the species’ behaviour. In some ways, they had noted, the apes were very similar to them - albeit, far more primitive. In others, they found their behaviour simply baffling. The apes were a puzzle to be observed and slowly solved until a more complete understanding was put together and submitted to the database. Hence, the zoologist's current routine. 

As best they could tell, the apes were divided into several large colonies. These colonies were, for the most part, very similar to each other with very few real outliers. Appearance varied slightly from colony to colony and there were small differences in typical behaviour between them as well, but mostly the colonies acted very similarly to one another. At least, the zoologist thought so. They theorised that the small differences that were lost on them likely mattered a lot more to the apes themselves. After all, even though the colonies interacted and sometimes even absorbed each other or traded members, they still kept their territories rigidly (and frequently arbitrarily) defined and maintained.

One of the biggest differences or, more accurately, the smallest difference that the apes seemed to view as a matter of great import, was how they distributed food and resources. In just about every colony, the vast majority of their resources were hoarded by a select few members who typically passed on those resources to their own offspring or confidants as they aged. This helped maintain a strong social hierarchy where some members of the colony had a lot more power and room for bartering than those who didn’t fall into that elite circle from birth. Some colonies were a lot fairer with how they distributed their resources, although none were entirely immune to this issue. To the zoologist, it seemed that the fairer colonies and the more exclusionist ones held a degree of quiet contempt for each other, but they would still frequently interact and even trade.

In fact, there was a lot of interaction between the colonies, especially when it came to matters of trade. Different colonies were settled in different locations. This naturally meant that each had easier access to various resources that others didn’t. To obtain what they lacked, colonies would trade things they possessed that others did not. The end result was an extensive network of colonies trading with each other. It was quite the remarkable feat of cooperation for a species that could also be so cruel.

Of course, sometimes that cruelty would raise its ugly head in matters of trade as well. The zoologist had already noted that the apes had a tendency towards greed. They always wanted more, regardless of how much they had. This could easily result in what started as equal trade quickly turning into something much more violent. One moment, colonies would be at peace. The next, one would turn on the other and attempt to eradicate them if they didn’t part with food and materials that were rightfully theirs. From the outside looking in, it was obvious to the zoologist that this incessant greed wasn’t helpful to the species. The most violent colonies lost the most lives and frequently suffered great losses of resources they would otherwise possess in their eternal quest for more. Meanwhile, the more peaceful colonies were typically the ones that thrived. They didn’t necessarily experience the same highs or golden ages, but stability was certainly a more important factor for a colony’s survival. The violent ones seemed poised to war their way into oblivion.

It wasn’t just food, water and materials that turned the apes violent either. It wasn’t even always expanding their territories - although that too also frequently caused them to turn to violence that looked borderline suicidal in its folly. Even things that held no tangible benefit often led to different colonies fighting viciously. Many of the colonies seemed to have developed some sort of worship for various idols, engaging in various ritualistic practices to appease their deities. Should colonies disagree on which idol to worship and how, lethal violence could also easily arise.

The zoologist almost found it tragic. The apes were clearly a reasonably intelligent species. They had vast colonies and complex power structures and relationships. They were evolved enough to create rudimentary art, to worship and even to trade. But they were also too primitive to have the foresight to see how many of their behaviours were actually very detrimental to their survival.

They certainly lacked any understanding of the complexities of food chains and environmental balance. If their greed and violent tendencies didn’t cause them to drive themselves to extinction, their endless growth and expansion would. The expansive colonies that the apes built were impressive, certainly. However, they tore down everything around them to build them. They damaged their own ability to access essential resources like food and clean water and even poisoned the air itself. As best the zoologist could tell, the apes weren’t aware of how close they were to a tipping point. The zoologist had actually mistaken the apes for an invasive species themself at first, a vestige left behind by another species who didn’t have the forethought not to interfere as theirs did. It was only observing how similar the apes were to other species on the planet that they realised that this wasn’t the case. The apes were simply a species with some very self-destructive tendencies.

It was a shame, the zoologist decided. In many ways the apes showed that they had the potential to one day evolve to the point of a high intelligence. They showed most of the signs in the complicated social structures their societies had developed. They were using tools and developing basic technologies. They had even experimented with rudimentary spacecraft. Ultimately though, the zoologist couldn’t formally classify them as a species with high potential.

Despite all their positive traits, they were too much of a danger to themselves. They were far too violent with each other. Too expansionist and greedy. Unless they could develop empathy and forethought, they would inevitably continue their headlong rush into extinction and be gone in less than a hundred more cycles around their sun. To the zoologist they would have to remain a curious blip on the radar in the grand scheme of the cosmos. Another species that might well never be ready to learn they weren’t alone. It was pitiable really.