On a recent trip to Maui (sorry to make that sound so casual, it certainly is rare and special), I was captivated by two distinct “ecosystems” which helped me better understand the manner in which the nuances of societal / social interaction are so significantly governed by circumstance. Before you roll your eyes and disparage this nonscientist’s ability to write a scientific study, relax and realize than I am speaking metaphorically, and based on induced observation under the influence of beautiful scenery and wonderful sunshine as can only be fully appreciated by a happy escapee from the sometimes-dreary Pacific Northwest, on the heels of a snow / ice storm which crippled the greater Portland area, and delayed my flight out of Portland by a day. Some quick thinking by my sister Allison, travelling to Maui out of San Diego, saved the day even if it meant trading my first-class seat for a middle row seat cloistered between two “above average” sized dudes in the back of the plane. Nothing quite like fighting snow and ice, stressing over Covid protocols, imitating the crème filling of an Oreo cookie for six hours, and then suddenly basking in warm Pacific breezes in a span of a mere eight hours or so. It can help one not only believe in, but in fact, expect miracles.

I was in Maui for the celebration of my parent’s 6oth wedding anniversary. We were joined by my three sisters for a wonderful stay in the Kapalua area. We have done this three times over the years and it has been a special experience for all of us. The beautiful, rented home (big thank you to my parents!) is nestled in a secluded cove that is visited by green sea turtles* throughout the day. We can almost time our day by their coming and going which includes long periods in which they beach themselves with a timing and regularity that has probably not changed much for thousands of years. No one is entirely sure why they do it; possible explanations include energy conservation, rest, and escape from predators. When you see these behemoths (an adult is approximately four feet long and can weigh more than 300 pounds), it is easy to forget that they were once small hatchlings whose survival was chancy at best. These true survivors are the exception and not the rule. Life is not easy for a hatchling sea turtle running the gauntlet of sand to sea. Once in the ocean, the threats begin anew. Hard to imagine that a decent sized crab or a predatory fish, are at one point a life and death threat. Such is life in the arcane battleground that is our breathtaking Pacific Ocean habitat as observed and interpreted by mere terrestrial human eyes. These turtles have come to be a true symbol of Maui and the special sights that abound.

In and around this idyllic spot, which includes beautiful views of the island of Molokai and the distant frolicking and journeying of grey whales in the blue green ocean beyond, lies a tide pool environment which I had not investigated in previous trips. On the last day of this leg of the trip, I decided to take a look. I felt like an unwelcome observer of a harsh and brutal word juxtaposed against the paradise which encases this unique and intriguing ecosystem.

Now it isn’t like I hadn’t explored a rocky tidepool before. The volcanic rock that forms a Maui tidal area is undeniably unique. Nevertheless, it is a prototypical tidepool with its black shelled sentinels of the neighborhood known as Rock Crabs;* it’s schools of tiny fish that move as one in their well-coordinated dance of subterfuge in shallow pools that in some way, shape, or form confuse potential predators in a way that humans will, once again, probably never fully comprehend. I also noticed the occasional, larger, colorful fish that nervously perused the vicinity opportunistically, yet with an angst which suggested to me that in hunting they knowingly subjected themselves to being hunted. I took note of tiny crabs that had somehow managed to find a shell small enough to equip them with a perfect protective refuge, allowing them to scavenge the sandy bottoms for whatever minuscule scraps the other far larger denizens of the rocky fortress wouldn’t even consider worthy of a glance. One creature’s speck is another creature’s bounty. I saw the stationary anemones and urchins which seem more plant than animal. They are the ultimate opportunists as whatever potential meal that comes their way must be ambushed and not pursued. All pretty remarkable, and yet somehow mundane. Its affairs occur constantly, yet the characters and their merciless tactics never change much. This shallow ocean habitat is indeed bountiful, and yet it is stingy and dangerous. These creatures choose a fortlike environment to call home as the never-ending rhythm of the waves and tides bring a limited yield to the countless residents. I found it interesting, and I found it enjoyable, yet I never quite made the connection as to the analogy / metaphor which only a tidal environment could make so well. Sometimes it is difficult to understand the Ying without visiting / experiencing the Yang.

Leg Two of the vacation meant saying goodbye to two of my sisters and to the west side of Maui and heading to the Wailea / Kihei area and a week’s stay at the Grand Wailea. My wife was flying in and we anticipated a great time of course. The Grand Wailea is a beautiful property and we soon fell into a nice routine which included a morning breakfast at the little on-grounds store / café. One of the perks of the hotel was a $40 per diem voucher that had to be used by 11:00 AM each day. Talk about a captive audience… At the prices they charge in Maui, this became a daily ritual for my wife and me. Rather quickly, I noticed the local bird population had opportunistically discovered the proclivity for human beings to order more than needed. It became a “bird paradise” of easy pickings unlike anything I had seen before. The food source was easy, abundant, and consistent for them; as a result, the various birds displayed uncharacteristic behavior that was, for lack of a better phrase, “orderly and polite.”

The top dog on the bird totem pole is definitely the Myna bird*. Perhaps it is related to the fact that they are simply larger, or possibly it has something to do with their strategy. Mynas are not native to Hawaii (native to India). As a matter of interest, these highly intelligent birds, have become a bit of a pest in Hawaii as they have become all over the world in areas where they have been introduced (either intentionally or by chance). They can be quite territorial and aggressive and are known for invading the nests of native birds rather than going to the trouble of building their own. Why build your own when you can take someone else’s handiwork. Many native species are threatened as a result. The Myna is one of only three birds listed among “The 100 Worst Invasive Species” in a 2000 published scientific study. More villainous than virtuous, they are nonetheless interesting to watch as they seem to hop along in a somewhat comical way; it is almost cartoon-like I must say.

The next level of supremacy seems to be a bit of a tie between the Red Crested Cardinal and the Zebra Dove. The former is an absolutely beautiful little bird (though not a true cardinal) which, exactly as the name suggests, sports a prominent, brilliant red head, while the former is noteworthy for its rodent-like movements along the ground and the fact that it allows close contact before flying off a short distance. Neither bird is native to the Islands though they have definitely not been associated with many of the problems attributed to their fellow resort opportunist, the Myna bird.

Last but not least on the list, the common House Finch which is found in all fifty states. What they lack in novelty they make up for in sheer numbers. They are seemingly ubiquitous on the islands and are, unquestionably, the shock troops of the scavenger battalion. Despite their common occurrence, they do possess a chirp that is uniquely beautiful and distinctive. I’m sure most of you have heard it many times.   

As mentioned, there is food enough for all and although the birds seem to innately recognize and adhere to the pecking order, they do so in an interesting way. The various tourists leave plenty of food for them in one form or another. At his point, I must confess, I’m not sure who is most interesting, the birds or the tourists, but I’ll stick to the theme and get on with the bird behavior I witnessed. Most everyone has been in a situation in which birds congregated around them while eating a meal. I believe all of us have probably tossed a crumb or two and then watched the birds scurry and compete to be the lucky recipient of the offered tidbit. That happened here as well, to an extent. There was simply so much offered in the form of bird-feeding diners, left over offerings, and the occasional dropped item, the birds were almost leisurely about the whole affair. The House Finches came and went even though more food was readily available. The Red Crested Cardinals and Zebra Doves moved around the periphery of the far more numerous House Finches and were content to let the smaller birds take what they needed and then move in when the opportunity afforded. You could tell that they were dominant and yet they seemed reticent to flaunt the fact. Off and on the Mynas would move in and take what they wanted. Their basic strategy was to find a larger morsal and then fly away with it, but again, their execution was leisurely and for the most part lacking in any overt aggression. Why? Because there was plenty for all and the various birds seemed conditioned to an utter lack of urgency in their behaviors. It was weird and kind of fascinating.

As I watched all of this, I thought back to the tidepools of west Maui. This ecosystem represented the polar opposite of what I had just observed. Scarcity led to keen competition which in turn led to tactics and behaviors which are harsh and unforgiving. Surplus, on the other hand, led to behaviors that are benevolent and decidedly tolerant of fellow food seekers. Also, and importantly, they had become dependent and seemingly slovenly in the foraging talents for which birds are known. Something was gained, and yet something was lost it seemed. Not exactly an earthshattering insight I realize, but it got me thinking about History and how the following patterns can be detected in some obvious ways and some not so obvious ways.

My book of choice for the trip was a book titled Andersonville by Mackinlay Kantor (1955). The book has been described by some reviewers as one of the greatest Civil War (1861-1865) novels of all-time. It is a fictionalized account of the infamous Andersonville prisoner of war camp* in southwestern Georgia that housed over 45,000 union prisoners during the war (Andersonville National Historic Site – Wikipedia). Nearly 13,000 died and many more barely survived. The conditions were utterly horrific. Malnutrition, lack of sanitary drinking water, lack of shelter, horrific filth, and unspeakable atrocities and murder perpetrated by fellow prisoners, were all a part of the story. Survival often came down to one’s ability to benefit from the misery / misfortune of others. Survivors looked like Jewish WWII Holocaust prisoners when Andersonville was ultimately liberated. Scarcity brings out the worst in people as one might expect. The people in the South were starving and in dire straits late in the war (Generals U.S. Grant’s and William Tecumseh Sherman’s tactic to take the war to the civilian population was achieved with devastating effectiveness).  Whether the conditions in the camp derived from this factor alone or a general hatred of one’s enemy in a bitter, hard-fought war, no one can say for sure and perhaps it was a little of each. Henry Wirtz, the commander of Andersonville became the only person to be prosecuted, found guilty, and executed for war crimes after the war. Interestingly, six Union prisoners were tried by Union prisoners, found guilty of capital crimes, and executed with the approval of the Confederate authorities running the prison in 1864. Kind of astounding… My wife and I actually visited the place (which is now a national historic site) several years ago and it remains the most eerie historic site I have ever visited / experienced.

In The American Heritage Book of Indians (a true classic in the work of American Indian studies- first published in 1961 with a foreword by John F. Kennedy), the author, William Brandon speaks of California coastal Indians* and their simplicity when it came to warfare-  

“But in the main the myth shrouded world of the California coast people, idle and merry, collapsed almost at the first toll of the mission bell; there were a few armed revolts; but none of any consequence- these people were hopelessly simple when it came to making war.”

They lived in an environment of plenty with no need to migrate in order to seek out the best hunter / gatherer areas for survival. Food and water were almost always plentiful, and the climate was temperate; there was enough for all, and as a result, keen competition and/or conflict with one’s neighbors was rare. Instead, they traded and generally got along quite well. Consequently, the art of war / the ability to wage war was simplistic at best.

Eastern pioneers who headed West were absolutely amazed by the docility of the indigenous tribes inhabiting the West Coast of California. They and their not-so-distant relatives were used to tangling with the nomadic, fierce, warlike people of the Great Plains who had been clashing over the life-sustaining, best hunting, and grazing grounds for centuries before they ever beheld an American. The Sioux, Cheyenne, Arapaho, Crow, Kiowa, Commanche, and countless other tribes were warrior societies (out of necessity) who gave as good as they got, and in many cases better, when it came to armed conflict with the Americans. If not for technological advantages and a lack of immunity to European diseases, the final outcome would have been far bloodier and more protracted. The mostly unfamiliar tribes of the coastal regions of Southern California are now largely anonymous outside of scholarship on the subject (and Indian casinos which incidentally often market the tribal ancestors in such a manner as to resemble the stereotypical tribes of the Great Plains).

Surplus and scarcity are certainly complex behavior modifiers as seen through the annals of History. Interestingly, these modifications are observed in all forms of life. Humans, equipped with our superior intelligence, have certainly not exhibited behavior in which we act markedly differently than lesser creatures. External stimuli lead to remarkably similar behavior I would suggest. My two historical examples are a bit random I realize. They are the product of a lifelong interest in American West history and the natural world and its creatures; hopefully, these examples capture the essence of the observation. The prisoners at Andersonville could have chosen to work together in order to cope with the scarcity of resources. They did, for example, band together and cooperate in order to eliminate an internal scourge / threat within the prison. The Indian people on the west coast of California could have decided to make a commitment to defense in the face of a surplus of resources with the rationale that it might be wise to prepare for an unknown future threat. Unfortunately, current reality seems to trump the ability to reason, cooperate, and contemplate a future sea change threat. This seems to be an eternal truth rather an interesting observation.

Perhaps Maslow’s well-known Hierarchy of Needs (see below) * comes into play more than we realize. Food, Water, Warmth, and Rest (Psychological Needs) form the bottom (largest segment) of the pyramid; without this foundational baseline need being met, higher, more enlightened ways of thinking and behaving are impossible. Safety and Security needs form the next level; in other words, without the former, the latter doesn’t even matter! Conversely, in an environment in which these basic foundational needs require no real effort to attain, something vital is lost in terms of more complex cognitive development (even though the “rainy day” ALWAYS comes- ALWAYS). Too much of a good thing is almost always a bad thing as counterintuitive as that may seem. Our God given “divine spark” which separates us from other living creatures can be lost from time to time when the scales of scarcity and surplus tilt too far in one direction. I suppose I am saying that the Andersonville saga shares much with a tide pool environment; and the study of California Indian people during the time before the arrival of white people can intriguingly look to the birds of the Grand Wailea for an insight into tendencies derived of surplus and ease. Moreover, I would suggest that there should be a true humility borne of these collective insights. Yet, this is rarely the case. The march of folly continues unabated.

“I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me, you can do nothing.”

Mathwew 15:5

Thomas M. Cook 4/1/21