Can Chimpanzees Be Heroes?

What is heroic?

Many sources define “heroism” as acting with great courage or bravery—persevering despite risk and fear. Merriam-Webster adds that the bravery is shown “in fulfilling a high purpose or attaining a noble end.” So, it's not solely self-interested. Altruism, acting unselfishly on behalf of others, is similar but needn’t involve an obvious cost to the self, nor courage.

Some people question whether such a thing as altruism even exists among humans—whether behavior is always self-interested at heart (either for our own genes, or our own future benefit). Less often do we talk about altruism in animals, though chimpanzees make strong candidates for potential heroes, with their deep and lifelong connections to friends and family. Could we think of the chimpanzees Sigourney, Garrison, and Hicks as heroes?

Mother Sigourney

One early September morning, our field radios crackled to life with the bad news that 15-year-old Cannon had been cornered high in a fig tree by hostile chimpanzees from a neighboring group. It was a life-threatening situation for him. The other grown males who’d been with Cannon in the tree had silently descended and disappeared moments earlier; only Cannon’s mother Sigourney and his pre-adolescent sister Fricka remained. The attackers began to climb. Females are rarely seriously hurt in these confrontations if they remain peripheral, but rather than flee, Cannon’s mother and little sister thwarted the attackers by blocking main trunk access mid-tree and screaming. When they were overwhelmed by numbers, Cannon was forced into a reckless leap to the ground and was immediately caught and surrounded by a mob, which attacked furiously with the intent to kill.

Sigourney and Fricka hurled themselves into the chaos. They wrapped themselves into a protective shell, with Sigourney hugging him tight from behind and Fricka hugging his front. Both females were attacked and dragged and thrown, but both hung on for long minutes and Cannon’s ribs, neck, abdomen, and testicles were protected from the worst as the others raged on. Despite serious wounds on his thighs and bicep, Cannon barely managed to escape into the dense and thorny grassland, and torrential overnight rains erased the trail. After many weeks of absence, all three returned, to much celebration among chimps and humans. Cannon continues to be a target, and Sigourney, thus far, continues to intercede successfully.

But why?

In a thought-provoking parallel several years earlier, a terrible smell led researchers to what was left of Rahsaan, who had been killed by other chimpanzees. The body was in such a state that identification was only possible by noting its size, its color, and the elderly female who kept a three-day vigil nearby when all others had moved on: his mother, Kanawa. Stories like these speak to the deep emotional connection chimpanzees have to each other; that's not necessarily heroism, though. It could be argued that Sigourney’s vigorous defense of Cannon served the selfish function of perpetuating her own genes (through her son). This would be unconscious, of course, and does not negate the existence of a strong emotional bond, though motivation under conditions of close relation could be evolutionarily selected for. Similar behavior from those not closely related could be telling.

Garrison the Defender

When the enormous Ngogo chimpanzee community descended into civil war and divided, males who had been friends and brothers became lethal enemies. Those who had groomed and shared meat together for years now violently killed each other when they had the chance. Still, though, when the Western group attacked young Fleck (East), Garrison (West) defended him. He rushed between Fleck and his attackers, screaming and charging and throwing his arms in an unprecedented display of temporary defection. Fleck was not his son (not that he’d know in any case; chimpanzees are highly promiscuous), but Garrison had been friendly with Fleck’s mother for a long time before the split. When an adult female attacked 5-year-old Septima, leaving her with a head wound, Garrison again interceded to prevent escalation. (Interestingly, Septima is his daughter, though he cannot know this.)

When the juvenile Bergl managed to catch and kill a little forest deer on his own but powerful males immediately tried to take it from him—as is usually the case in these situations—Garrison chased off the would-be thieves. Bergl then contentedly ate his whole kill himself, without sharing. For an older, high-ranking male to step in to defend three juveniles to whom he is not knowingly related is unusual. Might Garrison have been aware of the possibility that these were his children, given his other friendships? In our evolutionary account, explicit awareness of relatedness is not necessary, as long as kinship can be recognized at some level—if chimps are able to do this outside of their mothers and maternal siblings, we don’t know.

Source: Kevin Lee, used with permission

Hicks the Rescuer

One terrible day in 2019, the much-loved chimpanzee Kidman was speared to death by human poachers as she traveled with her two small children. While chimps, men, and poachers’ dogs screamed and fought, adult male chimp Hicks plunged in, grabbed Kidman’s tiny infant from her body, and fled, saving its life. Hicks then carried the infant for three days until it died, too young to be without its mother. For a non-sibling male to care for an infant is extremely rare, and Hicks’ behavior greatly impressed researchers. They were not related, though Kidman had been a close companion of Hicks’ own mother, so he had grown up with her; Kidman was a kind of (non-genetic) auntie. Does this explain his impulse to rescue a tiny life?

The Question of Heroes

How far shall we go to explain the willingness of Sigourney, Garrison, and Hicks to risk themselves in the aid of defenseless others? Are they heroes, are they unthinking pawns for gene preservation, or something in between? Whichever side we argue, it’s worth a good hard think about the same behaviors in ourselves.