Of Wolves and Sheep

For a large portion of our lives, too large a portion, the virtues of being a sheep we extolled by the Society. So much so that we snidely referred to people who rejected the Good News as 'goats'. Sheep were meek, teachable, and gentle in spirit. Stuffed lambs were often gifted to newly baptized persons as a heartfelt "welcome to the flock". We accepted our place under shepherds as good sheep were supposed to do.

It was a warm and safe place to be, among the sheepfold. We were surrounded by people who understood us, and whom we understood. But there are things that we may have forgotten about what it meant to be a sheep, if in fact we ever realized it at all.

Sheep are a herd animal, the purpose of which is to gain safety in numbers. Primarily because a member is also what we typically call a prey-animal, it's common for them to become food for something larger and meaner. Such as it is, being a sheep grants you the boon of the eyes and ears of the herd. What could have slipped by the attention of one rarely escapes the attention of all. With that also goes herd-mentality. Individuality does not exist (unless the wolves are out), and what the herd does, the individual must also do for maximum benefit.

But wait... those all sound like positive benefits, do they not? That really depends on your point of view, Obi. The sheep is ultimately a self-serving animal. It's commitment to community is based on its ability to be comfortably away from the vulnerable fringe; not because they actually care about the welfare of the others in the herd. They don't gain any special access to food, shelter is unaffected, and being a sheep requires no industry.

The hum-drum of this existence is a little difficult to overstate. However, it works for some. Where sheep become really interesting is when you apply Selfish Herd Theory. Along the lines of self-service mentioned before, being part of a herd also increases the chance of subordinating a less capable member in the event of an emergency, or herd panic. First proposed by W.D. Hamilton in 1971, the theory was used to explain activities in which social groups will aggregate in stressful situations.

We've seen it happen many times. There is a mob movement where a majority of the members flee in a uniform direction. While there are a minority who flee elsewhere, the larger body of the group includes weak or infirm members who are either outrun by the majority, or trampled and left behind (presumably to their demise). The uniform flight response offers any one individual the increased probability that they can surpass a subordinate member, thus gaining an advantage in the flight towards safety.

For some of you, the light bulb may be starting to flicker.  I've written before that the goal of most active Witnesses is not to be the holiest of the holy. Rather, they aim to be be holier than the other guy. In that respect, the least capable members are run over and left behind, being allowed to drop by the wayside as the more attuned Witnesses huddle for warmth and community, thanking God for their blessings. They weren't looking out for each other at all... They only needed someone else to run a little slower, or have a little less faith.

I suddenly have a lot less respect for sheep.

Wolves are the most common predator that sheep face. They are also about as diametrically opposed to the paradigm of herd mentality as they can be. Packs of wolves have a common interest - success through cooperation.

Wolves rarely operate alone. Where only one may be visible, more wait in the wings. Yes, they have their own pecking order, but wolves are without a doubt social animals (not to be confused with herd animals). The common good can only be served through the health and vitality of the individual. Sick and weak members are a detriment to the others, so it behooves all to promote strength rather than to exploit weakness, as we see in sheep.

Packs operate under their hierarchy to successfully hunt, raise young, and maintain order. This is starkly different than a herd which simply mimics behaviors of their nearest neighbor, wherein one flees and the others follow suit. Wolves instead operate under deliberate direction, with specific goals, and discrete metrics of success. As one retreats, another advances. As one tires, another gives chase. As one group hunts, the rest guard the den.

I don't mean to undercut the importance of community. It's nice to have people with similar interests and complimentary skills. However, it's important that we not confuse community with cooperation. When it's time to face danger, being a sheep will just get you run over by the younger, stronger, faster members.

In becoming an apostate, I had to examine the nature of what I aspired to be. No matter what role a person serves in the congregation, they will always remain a sheep. Women are the least fortunate in that they are subjugated by virtue of gender. Men have opportunities to attain responsibilities, but no matter how high they climb, there is no summit. Success can only be measured by how far from the bottom one has traveled. Like sheep and other herd animals, the safest place to be is in the middle. Only the strongest and most dedicated ever get there, because you win at being a sheep by not being the slowest or the weakest.

I'm quite certain that this is the type of person I don't want to be. There are times when that mentality is appropriate to survival, but our humanity is not measured by how efficiently we flee danger. It's measured by what we do to help others who are in danger, and what we are willing to do to avert it.

The Society considers me a wolf. I think I shall thank them for the compliment.