If you’re like me, that word “noyau” may be as
unfamiliar to you as it was to me a mere six months ago, but once we understand
the word and its wider meaning we begin to recognize its explanatory importance
in global and everyday matters, not to mention conflict resolution.
Before we get to the definition of the concept
let’s first ponder this quote:
“Antagonism
must have some value to living things: why otherwise would evolution have
tolerated so much of it?”-Robert Ardrey The Territorial Imperative
Keep that thought in the back of your mind as
it underpins the noyau concept.
In 1944 a German ornithologist by the name of
Dieter Burckhardt offered up the observation that each species of bird seems to
have an “individual distance.” That is, a territorial divide within a larger
shared territory.
A beach seemingly crowded willy-nilly with swarming
emperor penguins is actually adhering to species-specific rules regarding nest position
and permitted distance between individuals; what appears to the human eye as
crowded chaos actually follows determined rules of avian society. “Individual
distances” vary per species from the tight tight quarters for some nesting
shore birds, to the miles between nesting/hunting territories for birds of
prey.
Let’s also observe that it is not only birds
that obey the “individual distance” rule. We see reptiles, amphibians, and, of course,
mammals all staking out nesting and territorial distances, and what is
intriguing about all of these is that each individual species seems to have an
upper-limit-of-toleration. Meaning that specific distances between
nests/dens/homes must be observed and…there is also an upper limit as to how
many of the same species will be permitted within a given hunting range.
Back to the emperor penguins, there is an
instinctually defined distance between nests, but there is also a somewhat
static limit as to how many emperor penguins overall will be tolerated on a
given beach.
This given permitted/allowable/tolerated load
of species in a given range is the noyau. It can loosely be defined in human
terms as a neighborhood. Once this upper-limit has been defined a curious thing
occurs. Within the noyau we may witness numerous individual spats and territorial
signaling—while these can take on an aggressive tone at times they are for the
larger part non-violent, more noise than actual physical encounter.
Now, let’s say members from another noyau
[we’ll keep consistent and say visiting emperor penguins from the other side of
the island] arrive and attempt to stake out nesting sites on this beach,
something mighty interesting occurs. Even if the out-noyau penguins obey proper
nesting distance rules, they are subject to aggressive confrontation by the
original noyau birds. These confrontations can turn physical and we often see
birds that had spatted within the noyau [and they may very well do so again tomorrow]
join forces to expel this “threat” to the noyau.
Mighty familiar, huh?
Humans, being animals and with our own complex
noyaus, seem subject to similar population pressures. We can live peacefully in
neighborhoods but allow one neighbor to start parking his car in our spot, or
to let his grass grow too high, or some other such thing that seems trivial to
the outsider, it is taken very seriously by those inside the noyau, just as the
penguins take nesting distances seriously.
Just as with the penguins, these petty slights
seldom turn violent within the neighborhood, but neither do they go unnoticed
and seldom without remark—penguins squawk, humans bitch and litigate.
Now, for a thought experiment, let’s picture a
neighborhood with all of its concomitant petty gossip, tiny “They leave their Christmas lights up too
long” beeves and picture another neighborhood two blocks away. For some
reason they decide, to show up in the original neighborhood to seize a portion
of the playground. Once this happens, just as with the penguin noyau, humans in
the “invaded” neighborhood shed the petty grievances and unite as a veritable
unit to repel the invaders, whether it be physical action or community petition
and appearances at the local city council meeting.
In a nutshell, the noyau concept states that
within a noyau individual species will be subject to petty aggressive acts that
are rarely more than territorial signaling. But anything outside of the noyau
that threatens the whole of the noyau is a spur to ally into a unified front.
Pearl Harbor, 9/11, Paris Attacks, natural
disasters make us all one. At least temporarily. Once the initial threat has
been averted or placed in the rear view mirror of time, we separate into noyaus
yet again and get back to passive-aggressive toleration of one another.
Let’s recall the opening observation from
Robert Ardrey: “Antagonism must have some
value to living things: why otherwise would evolution have tolerated so much of
it?”
Chances are this antagonistic streak in surviving
species indicates that a certain amount of combativeness is necessary to protect
the self, the brood, the noyau. In times of actual strife this penchant for
aggression is a boon, but when times are easy, as it is for most of we 21st
century pampered gods, this antagonistic streak does not bode well for good
cheer and contentment.
If it is an instinctual part of our being it
will never be quite tamed, nor would we want to tame it as it is a necessary
spur to action when the chips are truly down.
But I think we can all agree that petty
antagonisms that intrude into daily lives, “micro-aggressions” that have no real
world import do not add to the quality of life. We may never quite kick this superficial
“Hey, I saw that parking spot first!”
behavior to the curb as it is part of our make-up, but perhaps an awareness of why
it’s there in the first place can allow us to stand down just a bit in some
cases.
When we feel that twinge to bark over what is essentially
a nothing “offense”, we might call to mind “Oh,
I was getting ready to squawk loudly like a territorial penguin at someone I
consider for the most part an OK human being. Perhaps, I should take a breath
here.”
Our inborn antagonism was and is meant for
actual threats and not to continually intrude into daily bland life—but, it does.
Knowledge of how the noyau works can also
allow us to reason through how some real world confrontations might go down.
Animals that defend their noyau almost
invariably fight more aggressively and successfully than invaders. This
biological observation is important. Easy to imagine that we would fight harder
to repel an invasion on our shores than one across the pond. Food for foreign
policy thought.
The more distant from the noyau a species
travels the less investment we see. If I were a penguin [or a human] I fight
hard to protect my nest, I will come to the aid of my neighbor and fight hard
[hard but perhaps without the same investment as for my own nest], the guy’s
nest who lives in Saskatchewan, well, he’s on his own. Sorry Saskatchewan guy.
The noyau concept says we will defend our own
nest to the utmost. It also says that we might be full of petty gripes about
those in our noyau but when the chips are down we will unite to repel a threat.
It also suggests that, if we are the aggressor
for some reason, the further we can lure the target from home territory the
less defensive-alacrity we may see in the confrontation.
The problem with humans is that we also allow abstract
ideas to become noyaus. Some of us will defend the home and an abstract noun
with the same fervor—it all depends on how much we have allowed the idea/ideal
to tie into our “identities.”
In the concrete world such things as “honor,”
“patriotism,” “the best chili ever!” simply do not exist except as constructs
in our minds. And yet, these concepts and many other non-concrete “things” do
settle into human skulls and can raise ire as much as a physical brick through
a front window.
With the human penchant for creating noyaus
out of abstracts in mind, it is wise for the individual who is interested in
self-protection to keep in mind that the same proximity calibration takes place
in the abstract world as in the physical. The closer we come to
invading/encroaching on the abstract noyau the more resistance we can expect to
see.
I may simply decide to make no comment on your
prized “Star Wars” t-shirt, or offer a low-key “It’s not my thing, glad you like it” and so far so good. But if I
trip into “That shirt looks like s### and
Star Wars is for losers” well, then it just might be on.
Penguins and humans, we’re not so different.
We can’t consciously change our response to noyau encroachment, but with a bit
of self-knowledge we might mitigate it when we are in meaningless spats and
save up some of that survival energy for real-world concrete threats, and, at
the very least, get a handle on why this species can be so damn touchy at
times.
The truth, it seems, is that we have evolved
to be that way. A buncha crowded penguins on a noisy beach squatting over our
nests for dear life.
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