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Vampire bats and American politics

Farah Stockman

THIS STORY APPEARED IN

February 14, 2012|By Farah Stockman

Desmodus Rotundus Vampire Bat

IN 1983, a biologist studying vampire bats in the forests of Costa Rica made a remarkable discovery: Bats that spent the night gorging on blood returned to their caves and routinely fed fellow bats that didn’t find enough to eat. The story of how well-off bats care for their hungry brethren by regurgitating into their mouths made vampire bats the darling of scientists who ponder why - in a world shaped by “survival of the fittest’’ - so many creatures help each other, even at a cost to themselves.

Lately, I have been wondering what these bats mean for American politics, at a time when the very idea of helping needy fellow Americans has come under assault. Newt Gingrich routinely attacks President Obama as a “food stamp president.’’ Rush Limbaugh calls the safety net for the poor “one of the biggest cultural problems we have got.’’ A Tea Party Express audience yells “yeah!’’ when Wolf Blitzer asks if an uninsured man in a hospital should just be left to die. As I watch all this, I can’t help but wonder: Are we are really less generous than bats that suck blood?

So I call up Gerald Wilkinson, the biologist who discovered bat altruism.

I ask: “Are vampire bats all bleeding-heart liberals? Are they socialists?’’

Wilkinson’s answer: “Not exactly. If they were not helping each other, they would not live very long.’’

Vampire bats, he explains, can only survive a couple of days without drinking blood. And it turns out that even the most hard-working bat has a relatively high chance of coming home empty-handed. So they feed each other because they know that one day they will need someone to return the favor.

So I ask: “Could a lazy bat live its life on the dole, lounging around the cave while other bats work overtime?’’

Wilkinson: “In a big group, it is conceivable that a bat could live on the dole. But I doubt it happens.’’

He tells me that even though bats give a fair bit to their needy neighbors, it is still far less than a bat would eat if it were successful on its own. Furthermore, bats seem to have developed mechanisms for limiting such cheating: They prefer to share with bats who have shared with them in the past. And they only give to bats they know. A strange bat that comes begging would probably starve.

It dawned on me that people are not so different. Many are willing to help a neighbor they know will return the favor, but are far more reluctant to give to a stranger who they are not sure will ever pay them back.

During times of economic trouble, when even the most hard-working can come home with nothing, people enthusiastically pay into a system that they can rely on for help if they are empty-handed. Look at how the Great Depression sparked the advent of Social Security.