Chattering Monkeys in a Collapsing Tree
They say that people who don’t talk very much are usually more intelligent, and I happen to agree. They tend to save their words for the things that are meaningful, and when they do finally say something, it can be quite deep and profound. They tend to be men and women of action, not words, and there is a simple reason for this: all this time that everyone else was talking, they were listening. They were learning. They were synthesising an answer and a solution, taking in different points of view into consideration. The quiet people are the thinkers of our world.
The loud people on the other hand, tend to be the ones who are more likely to listen to themselves only. They are much less concerned with exploring whatever topic they are “discussing”, and more preoccupied with subjecting others to their verbal violence. This is why I was never fond of debate clubs, and I find that some people in the legal profession are in it for the wrong reasons. A conversation is not a contest, it is not a sport. It is meant to enlighten and bring people together. And you are meant to grow and learn from it, not “win”.
Then there are those who suffer from the “chattering monkey” syndrome: they are not actually thinking but ruminating, going over the same thoughts again and again in their head, without actually processing them. And they are not really interested in finding a solution to what is going on in their head. They are just looking for an audience, someone that will make them feel important, perhaps calm them down. Many untalented psychotherapists know this well, and have found out that simply nodding in agreement for an hour and repeating back what they’ve heard is more than enough to earn them accolades from their patients, and keep both their appointment book and their wallet full.
A notch or two above monkeys in terms of IQ, humans are indeed, the ultimate chattering monkey of this planet. Jumping from branch to branch, talking over each other, we are the animal that everyone else in the jungle just wants to shut the fuck up. Birds listen intently for a response from the other edge of the valley, before replaying their song. Whales roam the oceans for a mating partner patiently, responding to signals that they can receive from as far as 4,000 miles away. Plants and fungi quietly send chemical messages, being as clearcut and succinct as they possibly can, whether it is a warning, an invitation, or a lethal trojan horse. Humans on the other hand, use communication mostly to confuse each other: polluting communication channels with half-truths, fake news, targeted propaganda and false advertising. This is not a treetop symphony but an asynchronous cacophony of shitposting. It is yet another sign of a race on its way to self-destruction. As the bickering continues during the pandemic over zoom calls and fake mortality data, nature stays mostly silent. Because it knows it will have the last word anyway.
If only we could shut up, we could tune into the most important sound that exists: the rustling of leaves as they collectively quiver against the wind of change that is sweeping the planet’s climate system. It is almost the same sound that the ocean makes. In fact, if your close your eyes you’ll see that the message is the same: whether it is a million waves or a million leafs, it is an omen that the Earth’s forces are getting more restless. The rustling, or psithurism, which in Greek means whisper, is only the beginning. The Earth’s voices are getting louder, getting ready to produce their last response, and their only response in this conversation. Only if we learn to listen will we be able to hear it.
To be continued…(or not)
George is a chemist, molecular biologist and food scientist. You can follow him on Twitter @99blackbaloons , read his books or join his mailing list
